Chapter 4: chapter 4

CHAPTER-2GOWRIMy phone ringtone wakes me up. Who is calling me so early on Sunday?  It takes me a few seconds to focus. The screen shows it is my father calling. Seriously, why is my dad calling from downstairs? “Hello pa,” I mumble in a sleepy tone.“Good Morning sleeping beauty,” he teases me.“Morning! Why are you calling from downstairs?”“Gowri, I am not in the house. We are in the temple. I called you to tell you that you have to buy milk,” replies my father. I could hear the background noises of the chanting of God's name. The ringing of bells and noises of people chattering.“Fine, how many litres should I buy?” I ask sitting up on my bed and stretching myself. He asks the same question to my mom. My mom gets the phone from him.“Gowri, buy two litres,” my mother replies.“Two litres; that is a big amount of milk for three people ma,” I tell wondering why this sudden increase in the milk consumption amount.“Gowri, we are expecting guests today,” answers my mother.“Guests? Who is–” before I could complete my sentence, she disconnects the call. I get up from the bed. After brushing my teeth, I go downstairs. I tie my braided hair in a messy bun and look down at my clothes. I am wearing a full sleeve yellow t-shirt that says ‘Damn it’ and a green pyjamas pant with flower designs. I know not a great combination but I am in my home and who cares what I wear. “Anna, today two litres,” I tell the milkman.“Any special?” he asks his eyes curious. I shrug.“When are you getting married?” he asks.The most annoying question that people ask me. Why do people care about my marital status? “Maybe after ten decades,” I joke.The milkman laughs and answers, “Young lady, marriage is something that you should do when you are young.”“Okay, old man. Thank you for your wise advice,” I counter back. He laughs and starts his motorcycle. Using both hands I  slowly carry the vessel full of milk to the kitchen. Opening the fridge with my right leg, I very carefully place the vessel inside and frown at the overflowing supplies in the fridge. With nothing else left to do on a Sunday morning, I sit down to read the newspaper. When I am halfway through the divorce case of a celebrity couple, the doorbell rings. I open the door expecting to see my parents but I am in for a surprise. Three people are standing. One is an elderly woman about my mother's age. The second is a woman of my age or some years elder. The other is a girl in her late teens. The elderly woman gives me a sincere smile. I rack my brain for some familiarity but nowhere I have seen these people. “You must be Gowri,” exclaims the teen girl. I nod my head though I have no idea who she is. How do they know me? ‘Gowri, we are expecting guests today.’So, these are the people my mother told me about. Without any further hesitation, I welcome them inside the house. As they get comfortably seated in the hall, I go to the kitchen and bring them water in three glasses. “You want tea or coffee?” I ask as soon as they finish taking a sip of water.“Coffee,” answers the younger woman. I excuse myself for five minutes. As I am making coffee, I try calling my parents but they aren’t answering the calls. Fine, now I have to deal with people whom I don’t even know. I serve the coffee. For some reason, I feel the three of them carefully judging every activity of mine. My mind goes into panic mode. Usually, I converse easily with people but today I don’t know what to say. But thank God, the elderly woman breaks the silence.“Where are your parents?” she asks in a polite tone and not in a why-aren't-they-at-home-when-they-are-expecting-guests tone.“Aunty, they both have gone to the temple. They will be here at any moment. Maybe the temple is crowded that is why it is taking them a long time. Or else they would have been here to receive you. My sincere apologies for them not being here,” I clarify.“No, the mistake is on our side. We have come earlier than the timing we mentioned,” replies the woman with a genuine smile.“So, why didn’t you go to the temple?” asks the younger woman.“Well, it is Sunday and it is the only day I get off. So, I was sleeping,” I tell her the truth.  The three of them glance at each other and it is like they know something that I don’t know.The doorbell rings again. I open the door and am relieved to see my mother standing. She is looking at the slippers of the guests and then glances at me with a question in her eyes.“Your guests have arrived. They are waiting for you. I had served them coffee. You take care of them, I am going to my room,” I whisper.That is what I usually do when strangers also known as distant relatives arrive. I say hi and go to my room and carry on my work but my mother frowns and she looks nervous. Without waiting for her answer, I start towards my room.🍀🍀🍀🍀Two hours later, my father knocks on my room door. “Yeah, come in,” I say. My father is a real gentleman. He doesn’t barge into the room without my permission like my mother. He is having a file in his hand. He looks a bit agitated and uneasy. What is with my parents suddenly? They both are acting as if they are going to write an examination.“Gowri, actually do you know who were the guests?” he ask. I shake my head no and I honestly don’t want to know about those distant relatives or the reason why they were here. “Well, they are your future in-laws,” he replies slowly waiting for my face to register surprise and then slowly change to anger. “What? But–” I start but my father interrupts me.“Gowri, listen, I know your feelings about marriage and I am sorry that my marriage was the one that created a bad opinion about marriage. There are a lot of successful couples out in the world. Just because I and your mother don’t get along well doesn’t mean there is no love in the world. I never force you to do anything and you know that. But something about this boy has impressed me. He is a good guy. He will be perfect for you. Here, this file contains his details. Go through it and tell me your decision. The groom's house is very much impressed with your coffee and attitude. So, it all depends on your decision,” my father tells. Before leaving my room he gives me a meaningful look and walks out.I sit there staring at the file. The groom's house was impressed with my attitude. FREAKING HELL! Are they insane? I was not even dressed properly. I didn’t even receive them properly. What things about me impressed them? No one in their proper mind would accept a bride giving coffee to her in-laws in a t-shirt and a messy bun. Alright! If they were my would-be in-laws, then where was the groom? My thoughts were put to a pause by my phone ringtone.It is my sister Aishwaryaa. I frown at the screen. I don’t usually get calls from my sister. My sister and I are not that close. We both have a poor bonding and I am not sure why we were never close.“Hello, Aishu,” I answer.“Gowri, I am so happy for you,” she tells excitedly. My mother must have told her about the visit of the guests.“Thank you,” I say in a bored voice.“So, tell me what is your darling's name is,” she asks. I cringe at her words. Darling? How could you suddenly call a stranger Darling?“I don’t know,” I reply honestly.“Oh come on Gowri, don’t be old school. You know these days it is perfectly fine to say your fiancée's name,” she teases. I take the file and open it. There is a photo and the details of the groom.“Shiva Subramanian,” I read the name given in the file. My sister gets very excited hearing the name and is telling something about the match made in heaven or stuff like that as I go through the file. I stare at the photo. The man in the photo has a brown complexion matching mine. He is six feet says the file. His hair is jet black and has facial hair. To be truthful, I don’t feel any butterflies in my stomach or heart. The groom is good looking but that doesn't make my heart race fast or colour my cheeks. He is working in Chennai. That is when I realize something important.“Aishu, call you later,” I say to my sister and hang up my phone. I rush downstairs. My father is as usual watching a cricket match and my mother is in the kitchen. “Ma and Pa, I have to speak to you immediately,” I call out to both of them. It takes a few seconds for them to settle.“The groom is working in Chennai. Does this mean that I have to move to Chennai after I marry him?” I ask the question and realize another thing at the same time. When did I decide to marry him? My parents must have realized the same thing because they smile at each other.“So, you are ready to marry him?” asks my father.“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I just–” I begin but my mother cuts me off.“Sundar, why do you ask silly questions? Gowri is ready for it. That is why she is asking about the groom's residence. You can’t ask a girl directly if she likes a boy or not. Sometimes, you should understand it through little things like that,” my mother explains. I groan inwardly. Who the hell told these things to my mother? I don't get a chance to object as both my parents start arguing. I stare at the file. There is only one way to get peace in the world. That is to leave my house.“Ma and Pa, can you both answer my question?” I ask them again.“You are fine with this groom?” my father asks again. My mother opens her mouth to argue but I precede her in speaking.“I am fine with this boy. I am ready for the marriage,” I tell them and to a small part of me that is still hoping to live a single life. “Yes, Gowri. The boy works in Chennai. That means you would shift there, after your marriage to him. You better apply for transfer now,” my mother tells in a pleased tone. But I am not.🍀🍀🍀🍀