2 States The Story Of My Marriage (37 page)

My father returned at midnight.

‘You think this is a hotel?’ I said as I opened the door. I hadn’t fought with him
for weeks, so it was about time anyway.

My father didn’t respond.

‘Here are your printouts. I didn’t know how many copies you’d need.’

‘Thanks,’ my father said.

‘Where do you go so late? Your real estate agency work can’t take this long,’ I
said.

‘I am not answerable to you,’ my father said.

‘And that is why we are an officially fucked-up family,’ I said.

I came back to my room. I slammed the door shut as I prepared for another

night with the devils in my head. I promised myself to call Dr Iyer in the morning

and get a prescription for those happy drugs. Fuck the side effects, I couldn’t

take the mind monsters anymore.

I fell semi-asleep at three in the night. Persistent rings woke me up. I checked
my watch; 5 a.m. Who the hell was calling at this hour?

I woke up groggy with a headache already in place. I reached the living room. I
picked up the phone, ready to scream at the milkman or whoever else felt it was

OK to call now.

‘Hello,’ a female voice said.

‘Ananya?’ I said. I knew that voice too well.

‘Thanks sweetie, thank you so much,’ Ananya said. Had she dialed the right

number?

‘What?’ I said, still not fully in my senses.

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‘You fixed everything. Thank you so much,’ she said, her voice super-excited.

‘What did I do?’ I blinked sleepily.

‘Don’t pretend! You should have at least told me.’

‘Told you what?’

‘That your dad is coming up to Chennai,’ Ananya said.

‘What?’ I said and woke up in an instant.

‘Stop behaving like a dumbo. He spent seven hours with my parents yesterday.

He assured them that I would be treated like a daughter and apologised for any

past misgivings.’

‘My dad?’ I tried for clarification.

‘Yeah, my parents feel so much better after meeting him. In fact, they asked me
if I have a date in mind. Can you imagine?’ Ananya spoke so fast, it was hard to

catch her words.

‘Huh, really?’ I said.

‘Oh wake up properly and call me. I love you, baby. Sorry about the day before,
I’d been so disturbed.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

‘What? You too love me or you too are disturbed.’

‘Both,’ I said, ‘but wait, my dad came to your house?’

‘You seriously didn’t know.’

‘No,’ I said.

‘Wow,’ she said, ‘please thank him from my side.’

I went to my parents’ room. They were still asleep. I don’t know why, but I did a
totally sappy thing. I slid right into the middle and put an arm around them both.

In a minute, I was fast asleep.

I woke up five hours later, at ten. My parents were not in the room. I sprang out
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of bed, panicking at how late I was for office. I came outside.

‘Where’s dad?’ I said as I saw my mother.

‘In the balcony,’ my mother said.

My father sat on a chair, digging up mud in one of the flower pots. He saw me

but kept quiet. I wondered what I should say to him. I picked up another spade

and started digging with him.

‘Dad, you went to Chennai?’

‘News travels fast,’ he said. He didn’t look up from the flower pot.

‘Why? I mean, how come?’

‘My son needed help,’ my father said as he pulled out the weeds from the soil.

His voice had been plain, yet I felt a lump in my throat.

He placed a sapling in the pot and put freshly dug mud around it. I came and

sat next to him and pressed the soil with my thumb.

‘How did you know?’ I said.

His eyes met mine, he said, ‘Because I am your father. A bad father, but I am

still your father.’

He continued, ‘And even though you feel I have let you down in the past, I felt I
should do my bit this time. A life partner is important. Ananya is a nice girl. You

shouldn’t lose her.’

‘Thanks, dad,’ I said, fighting back tears.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said. He gave me a hug. ‘I’m not perfect. But don’t deprive
me of my son in my final years,’ he said.

I hugged him back. Tears slipped out as I let go of any self-control. The world
celebrates children and their mother, but we need fathers too.

I closed my eyes. I remembered Guruji. I stood on top of a green mountain,

watching a beautiful sunrise. As I held my father, the heavy cloak fell off, making

me feel light again.

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‘I won’t come for the wedding though,’ my father said.

‘Why?’ I said surprised.

‘Your mother won’t go without her relatives. I don’t know what I will do there if
they are there.’

‘You won’t come for your own son’s wedding?’ I said.

‘Ananya is coming to our home only,’ my father said.

I felt too much gratitude towards him at that moment to be mad at him.

‘You have to come. I’m late for work, but I’ll convince you later,’ I said.

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59

‘Like I said, much simpler for us if you get your relatives to Chennai,’ Ananya

said.

‘How do I get them all? I can’t afford so many air tickets,’ I said.

We were on our countless pre-nuptial calls.

‘They won’t fly down themselves?’ Ananya said.

‘Are you crazy? We have to take care of the baraat, until they reach you, of

course.’

‘Only you understand these Punjabi customs,’ Ananya said.

‘You’d better too,’ I said.

‘It’s a Tamil style wedding,’ Ananya said.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Yeah, what else do you expect in Chennai? Anyway, won’t your relatives like

to see something different?’

‘Actually, no,’ I said.

‘We’ll see, and you can take the train to Chennai. The Rajdhani Express takes

twenty-eight hours.’

‘That’s a long ride with relatives,’ I said.

‘You’ve waited so long for this, what’s another day?’ Ananya said and ended

the call.

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‘You really won’t come? I have your tickets.’

My father kept silent. My mother sat next to me at the dining table.

‘Why does it have to be a choice? Why can’t mom get her relatives and you

come as well?’ I said. Why can’t we be a normal family for once? I thought. I

guess there are no normal families in the world. Everyone is a psycho, and the

average of all psychos is what we call normal.

‘He feels they have insulted him in the past,’ my mother said.

‘And he hasn’t insulted them?’ I said, ‘Anyway, what does it have to do with my
wedding? Dad, say something.’

‘You have my blessings. Don’t expect my presence,’ my father said.

‘His drama never ends,’ my mother said. ‘He himself went to Chennai and said

yes to Madrasis. This wouldn’t even have happened otherwise. Now when

everyone in my family is waiting for the wedding, he stops them. Why? Because

he can’t see them happy. Most of all, he doesn’t want to see me happy.’ She then

broke into tears.

‘Is that the case, dad?’

‘No, I’ve given you a choice,’ he said.

‘Which son will not want his father to come?’ my mother said, ‘This is not a

choice. This is blackmail.’

‘Whatever you want to call it. If this wedding is happening because of me, then
I should get to choose the guests.’

‘No dad,’ I said, ‘Mom has equal rights, too. Unfortunately, I belong to both of
you.’

‘So, you decide’ my father said.

My mother and dad looked at me. I paced up and down the room for ten

minutes.

‘Dad, mom’s family has to come. You do what you have to do,’ I said and left the

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room.

Rajji mama had arranged a two-man dholak band at the Hazrat Nizamuddin

station. I helped locate the thirty-seven II-tier AC berths reserved for my relatives
in the Rajdhani Express compartment. Two of my mother’s cousins had decided

to join at the last minute and we had to accommodate them as well. My mother

made up a wonderful story about my father’s viral fever that would be malaria.

Everyone knew the reality, and apart from the awkwardness of fibbing to

Ananya’s parents again, people were relieved, as my dad equaled to no fun.

‘You can’t talk half the things when your husband is here,’ as Shipra masi told
my mother.

I stood inside the bogie, matching everyone’s ticket to their berth. Rajji mama
dragged me out. ‘You have to dance a little, no? This is that baraat leaving,’ he

said.

At four in the afternoon, hundreds of bored passengers on the platform

watched the free entertainment provided by our family. The dholak men jogged

along the train and argued with mama over the payment. They couldn’t squeeze

much out of him as the train has picked up speed.

I came inside my compartment, which the ladies had turned into a sari shop.

The entire lower berths were filled with the dresses everyone planned to wear for

each of the functions.

‘This is beautiful,’ my seventy-year-old distant aunt said as she fondled a

magenta sari with real gold-work. Women never get too old for admiring saris.

My younger cousins had taken over the next compartment. The girls had their

make-up kits open. They discussed sharing the mascaras. I see why whole

families get excited about a wedding; there’s something in it for everyone.

I came outside to stand at the compartment door. The train whizzed past Agra,

Gwalior and Jhansi over the next few hours. I still had a day to go as the train

traversed through this huge country, cutting through states I had battled for the

last year. These states make up our nation. These states also divide our nation.

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And in some cases, these states play havoc in our love lives.

I came inside when the train reached Bhopal at dinnertime. My relatives

couldn’t contain their excitement that Rajdhani Express offered free meals.

‘Take non-veg, the Madrasis won’t give you any,’ Shipra masi advised

everyone.

‘OK aunty, for the next three days, there are no Madrasis, only Tamilians,’ I

said.

Shipra masi separated the foil from her chicken. ‘Yes, yes, I know. Tamil Nadu

is a state. But we are going to Madras only, no? Why does the ticket say

Chennai?’

‘It’s the same. Like Delhi and Dilli,’ Kamla mami said as she slurped her

chicken sweet corn soup.

‘Is it true their chief minister is an ex-film heroine?’ my mother’s cousin said.

‘Yes-ji,’ another aunt said, ‘these South Indian women are quite clever.’

‘God has given them a brain, nothing else,’ came another loose comment and I

considered jumping off the train.

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60

Ananya’s father checked my clan into twenty rooms at the Sangeetha Residency

in Mylapore. The rooms were basic, but clean and air-conditioned. ‘What

happened to your father? We just met him,’ he asked.

‘It’s a viral fever that could become malaria,’ I said.

‘Is that possible?’

‘It happens in Delhi. Anyway, what’s the schedule?’ I regulated the

conversation.

‘We have a puja tomorrow afternoon and another one in the evening. The

wedding muhurtam will be in the morning day after tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Uncle, what about a DJ? There is no party?’ I was aghast for my kith and kin.

‘We have a reception party day after evening. Have your fun there,’ he said and
turned to my mother, ‘Kavita jee, Shipra jee, can I talk to you for a second?’

My mother, Shipra masi and Ananya’s father stepped away from me and other

relatives. They spoke for five minutes. My mother rejoined me. Shipra masi went

to the reception to collect her keys.

‘What?’ I said as we climbed up the steps towards our hotel rooms.

‘Nothing,’ my mother said.

‘It’s my marriage. I deserve to know.’

‘They asked me if I wanted a special gift,’ my mother said. Perhaps, Ananya

had recounted Minti’s wedding to her parents.

‘And? What did you say?’ I said, eyeing my mother with suspicision.

‘Don’t talk to me in that voice,’ my mother said.

‘What exactly did you say, mom?’ I said, my tone worse, ‘what? Did you send

him to buy a car or split ACs or what ?’

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‘That’s what you think of me. Don’t you?’ my mother said as we reached the