“I’ll go there and sit and talk like a normal human being but if you want me to demurely carry food around for them while they look me up like I’m cattle for sale, you’re both very mistaken,” I said in a soft, ominous voice. I realized that even at this late stage, I wanted them to protest, say something that would make it justifiable for me to walk away from this. Because if this didn’t happen there would be nothing I would not have to tell Nick about.
“Okay,” Ma sighed. “Sowmya, you just put the ladoos and bajjis on the center table along with tea. This maharani here can just sit there like a big lazy blob.”
I refused to be paraded around like meat for sale, so I casually walked into the hall as if I didn’t know who was there and why.
This time, I had to admit, Ma had pulled out all the stops. The boy—the man—was very handsome and if I were single, I would’ve probably agreed to an arranged marriage to this hunk without even speaking with him. Where were these handsome men when I was going to college in India? But as things were, he didn’t compare to the hunk I was already engaged to.
“My daughter, Priya,” my father introduced me. “Priya, this is Adarsh, Mr. Sarma, and his wife.”
“Namaskaram,” I said, folding my hands. “Hi,” I said to Adarsh. He smiled back. He had a dimple on his right cheek. Nick had a dimple on his left.
“How are you finding everything?” Mr. Sarma asked conversationally once I was seated by Ma in a lighted spot where everyone could see me, my sari, and all my jewelry to the best advantage. “It has been seven years, I hear, since you came back to India.”
“Everything is the same . . . but not the same,” I said enigmatically.
“Our son Adarsh feels the same way,” Mr. Sarma said enthusiastically, and smiled broadly. “He says how nothing has changed and then he says that everything has changed. Looks like both of you cannot make up your mind.”
“Have you ever thought about moving to Tek-saas?” Mrs. Sarma asked.
“I like living in San Francisco,” I replied, now very uneasy with this whole bride-seeing business. I avoided looking at Ma who was glaring at me and smiling at our guests alternately. Telling them that I was not ready to move was an obvious sign of reluctance on my part.
“Adarsh is planning to move to the Bay Area,” Mrs. Sarma said. “We have lots of family there and he is starting a business, too.”
“Actually . . . I’m not,” Adarsh corrected his mother uncomfortably. “I’m joining a friend’s start up . . . or, rather I’m thinking about it.”
“Really, what does your friend’s company do?” I asked.
“They make—” Adarsh began.
“Oh, all this business gup-shup,” Ma interrupted. “Why don’t you kids sit outside on the veranda and talk while we old people eat some ladoos and bajjis.”
Oh, what I wouldn’t give for Ma to be just, just a teeny-weeny bit subtle.
“What, no ladoos and bajjis for us?” Adarsh asked mischievously.
“Of course.” Ma flushed and held up a plate of bajjis .
Adarsh picked up a bajji and we both sauntered out to the veranda. I sat down on the swing and he sat across from me on a chair eating his bajji.
“I just got back from Dallas yesterday evening,” Adarsh said. “So maybe I’m jet-lagged, but you don’t seem all that eager to be married.”
The bluntness of his question, imparted in a casual manner, instantly put me at ease. “I didn’t come back home for seven years to avoid this,” I said frankly.
“I know the feeling. I’d managed to stay away for almost six years . . . but now, my grandmother’s health is failing, so I thought, what the hell, how bad can it be,” he said with a shrug. “My friends who got married like this seem happy enough.”
“Doesn’t it seem a little barbaric to come and see a bunch of girls while you’re in India and pick one to marry?” I asked.
Adarsh shrugged again. “Not really . . . Well, it did early on, but now, the girls looks at the guys, too, you know. It works both ways.”
“You’re right,” I conceded, now fidgeting with Ammamma’s sapphire necklace.
We both fell silent. This was awkward. Did this happen with everyone who sat through one of these bride-seeing ceremonies? Or did things change for a veteran