The white Ford Endeavour screeched to a halt on the porch of the Ramamurthys. Parking it
aesthetically, Priya Venkatesh stepped out of the driver’s seat, much to the awe of the two
ladies of the Ramamurthy household. They exchanged acerbic glances. Ramamurthy’s
mother, whom people addressed as Rukmani Paati*, pursed her lips disapprovingly. Not only
was the girl driving a car, which, according to her, was predominantly a man’s right, but she
was also clad in a salwar kameez for this occasion.
Rukmani Paati nudged her daughter-in-law, Rajalakshmi, “Who on earth wears a Salwar
Kameez for a wedding proposal? This girl will not be suitable for our family.”
Rajalakshmi pouted her lips in exasperation. “Yes, it is evident that the family nurtures
modern ideas and is audacious, but it is challenging to find a girl like her for Aaditya. His
average height being a serious impediment trouncing his academic achievements and high
status at work. This girl’s physique matches with our Aaditya. Let us decide amicably
anyway.”
Half-willingly but with a selfish motive, the duo ushered in the guests: Priya, her parents,
Venkatesh and Mangala, and Priya’s younger brother, Piyush.
Contrary to the tradition wherein the boy’s party goes to the girl’s house for the official ‘girl
seeing,’ Venkatesh’s family came to the boy’s house. This arrangement was made with mutual
consent since Ramamurthy was recuperating from appendicitis surgery.
“Appa*, why do we even have this formality of girl-seeing in the first place? It is an outdated
practice. My friends will laugh at me.” Priya had protested the week before. “Can’t I meet
Aaditya in a restaurant near his office or mine?”
“Even I feel this is an old-fashioned arrangement. All my colleagues speak about their son or
daughter meeting their prospective better halves somewhere outside the house. But it looks
like that family is not very comfortable with it.” Venkatesh asserted. “They have not even
asked for an exchange of photographs. It seems the age of the girl and the boy will reduce by
doing so. Blind beliefs!” he laughed. “I agree to this arrangement solely because your Ramani
Mama* has got the proposal, and I respect him.” Venkatesh sternly spoke to his wife.
“Then my ideologies would not be compatible with Aaditya if he could not retaliate against
this arrangement.” Priya exclaimed dolefully.
Mangala made sincere efforts to convince everyone. As a mother of a twenty-seven-year-old
daughter, Mangala was only eager to fix Priya’s marriage soon.
“Let us not jump to conclusions. I understand from Ramani Mama that the boy holds a good
position. He is not only an auditor with a reputed bank but is also pursuing law.”
Debates lay to rest, and the family called on the Ramamurthys as scheduled.
“Don’t you wear sarees on occasions?” Rukmani Paati’s enforced sweet tone betrayed her
disapproval of Priya’s attire.
“Well, I do, but what is the occasion today for me to take the trouble of wrapping myself in a
saree?” Priya’s reply was far from being termed as innocuous. She was already upset.
Having encountered a stern look from her son, Rukmani Patti stopped playing with the
conversation while Mangala nudged her daughter from behind.
“Do you drive to work every day?” Rajalakshmi was the next in the interview panel.
“No, I don’t drive; I ride to work daily.”
The ladies rolled their eyeballs, bemused by Priya’s reply. Mangala intervened, “Priya goes
to work on a scooty since her father takes the car to the office.”
“She goes on a motorbike?” Rukmani Paati almost shrieked “No, it is called a scooty.” Priya
tried to conceal her amusing smile behind an enforced severe look.
Now Priya was getting bored. The prospective bridegroom had yet to make his appearance,
and she was being subjected to questions that shot out like bullets from a crude rifle with a
trajectory concentrated towards her.
‘Wonder what all queries that moron has to clear upon showing his presence?’ Priya waited.
The boy’s father, Ramamurthy tried his best to keep up a lively conversation. He spoke to
Venkatesh about his work culture. Ramamurthy then spoke to Piyush about his studies and
gave some valuable tips when the boy expressed his wish to go abroad for an MBA. He did
ask Priya about her work, but Priya felt it was more like a formality. It genuinely did not look
like Ramamurthy was keen to know about her job.
Priya was an acclaimed interior designer who worked with an established firm. Her work
demanded some travel, which Ramani Mama conveyed to the Ramamurthy, but the ladies
had to ask her where she travelled? how she travelled? and, most importantly, with whom she
travelled?
“Touring job suits only men. My husband used to tour very often while I took care of
Ramamurthy and my daughter.” Rukmani Paati’s face lit with pride. “He held a responsible
job in a pharmaceutical company.” She spoke highly of her husband, who would have been at
the threshold of being termed an octogenarian if he had been alive.
With due respect to the departed soul, Venkatesh couldn’t help but snub the lady. “In those
days, women did not go to work, so the debate on whether girls could tour was unnecessary.
Things are different today with women rubbing shoulders with men in almost all fields.”
Rukmani Paati was about to retaliate when the person most sought after for the evening
emerged from his room, Aaditya!
His superciliousness needed no introduction. Aaditya’s look alone was sufficient to let people
know that his personality reeked of arrogance.
Priya noticed the silent conversation between the grandmother and the grandson. It was like,
‘Look, this girl has to be shown her place before she comes to our family. SHE TOURS,
DRIVES, RIDES A BIKE AND WEARS SALWAR KAMEEZ FOR A GIRL-SEEING.’
At that juncture, Aaditya looked at Priya to assess her dress sense. And then this is what Priya
thought, Aaditya said silently: ‘Yes, you are right. The girl looks too modern. I know her job
involves touring, but we can see that later. She is pretty. Oh, and she drives and rides a
scooty, eh? I will take care of all that post-wedding.’
Since Aaditya still stood as if he needed a formal introduction, Priya took the initiative and
extended her hand, “Hi, I am Priya Venkatesh; I lead design projects team for Cozy Homes.”
Aaditya did not react. It looked like she was talking to the walls. It became evident that he
considered her profession worthless.
Aaditya had to turn towards his mother and granny for permission to shake hands with Priya.
Their incandescence discouraged the boy from giving the cordial handshake.
‘Height of embarrassment!’ Priya twitched her lips.
He spoke very few words. Piyush, the talkative guy, failed to elicit some response from this
stubborn fellow.
The family stuck like glue to their seats even after Venkatesh indicated that the girl and the
boy needed privacy to talk.
Priya discerned that Aaditya had all the airs of an auditor accompanied by the vanity that he
was pursuing law.
“We have a driver,” he said abruptly. “Dad doesn’t drive through congested streets.” The
information looked out of context, but Priya realized he was hinting at her driving the car that
day.
Priya interrupted him, “And how do you go to the office? ”
He shrugged as if this was an unnecessary question, “I Uber it.”
“Now that Mr. Ramamurthy is recuperating from surgery, you can take the car as well,”
Venkatesh said, adding, “These vehicles need to be used to keep them in good condition. I
see you have a Ford Endeavour, too.”
“The driver has gone to his native place for a month. Aaditya doesn’t drive. He never felt the
inclination to learn driving.” Ramamurthy said.
“So what? Our Priya drives well.” Words spilled out of Mangala’s lips without
contemplation. Priya glared at her mother.
Mangala bit her tongue in self-remorse. She hadn’t meant to say that. She knew it was too
early to conclude a proposal, but it was a knee-jerk reaction.
“Oh, no. What will people say about the wife driving the car while her husband sits beside
her?” Rajalakshmi bellowed..
Now, the conversation was steering without any traffic signal or rules.
Priya respected Ramani Mama and had therefore agreed to this girl-seeing, but that didn’t
imply that the marriage was fixed. She had yet to speak to the boy. She respected all elders
but not those who weren’t worthy of respect.
Something in her prompted Priya to speak.
“I need to talk to Aaditya alone. Can we move to the adjoining room or elsewhere?”
The elderly ladies gasped as if this was an act of blasphemy.
Aaditya looked at his mother and granny, much to Priya’s vexation. They used cryptic
language. Aaditya seemed to understand what the two ladies conveyed through their reaction.
“Yes, of course, let us go to my room.” He said getting up from his seat.
Mangala immediately stepped in. “Why don’t we all move to the porch? Let both of them talk
here.” She got up, giving no room for speculations. The others arose and rather unwillingly
walked away.
“What is the notice period in your office?” Aaditya asked nonchalantly, scrolling his mobile.
“Notice, period! For what?” Priya almost shrieked.
“To put down your resignation. It should be well before the marriage date,” Aaditya spoke as
if this was the obvious thing going to happen.
Priya tried to stifle the seething anger.
“I am sorry, but whose marriage are you talking about, and why should I resign before that
marriage?” She put up an innocent face. The daft expression only evoked a disgusting
response from Aaditya.
“I am talking about our marriage. You need not continue working after we are married. We
do not encourage ladies to establish themselves in professional fields. My sister, Aishwarya,
is a postgraduate in Economics but has settled to be a housewife. Her husband earns enough,
like me, to support the family.”
Whatever Aaditya spoke after that diluted into Priya’s ears. Her mind was racing faster than a
tornado. After a while, Priya stood up even as Aaditya continued with his monologue. Her
impassivity became palpable.
“I am feeling a bit indisposed. Can we talk some other time? Please give me your phone
number if you are fine with it; I will get back to you in a day or two.” Priya feigned a
headache. Though she had a sound mind to let Aaditya know her opinion about him, she
refrained from being rude, for she revered Ramani Mama a lot and didn’t want the
Ramamurthys to point fingers at him for her behaviour.
Priya told her father to drive back home, and sat in a reflective mood. Cautiously, Venkatesh
asked her the reason for her tumultuous state.
“I think Aaditya’s sister Aishwarya is the same girl about whom my friend Shirisha had
spoken to me earlier. Aishwarya stays in Shirisha’s neighbourhood and lives a compromised
life. Shirisha often tells me that Aishwarya has expressed her anguish about having to live
within the four walls despite being a postgraduate in Economics. Her ambition was teaching,
but the family she was wedded to is strictly against ladies pursuing a job.”
After a long pause, Priya affirmed that she was not interested in proceeding with this
proposal.
Venkatesh conceded to her decision, but Mangala thought it was made in a rush.
“Let us take time to consider this proposal. The boy earns well, and his only sister is married
and settled. They have two flats here in Chennai. What else do we want?”
“I want just one thing, Amma*,” Priya said clearly. “I ask only for self-respect. Didn’t Appa
allow you to keep up your self-respect by encouraging you to pursue music and take classes
in Carnatic music?” She looked at her mother, who now realized what was going through her
daughter’s mind. “That family assumes women have no right to have an identity. They want
me to live as Aaditya’s wife and daughter-in-law of the Ramamurthy household with no other
distinctiveness. They may want me to give the house a grandchild very soon. After all, these
are the designations and expectations of women in society. Do you want me to spend the rest
of my life hating you for pushing me into an abyss ?”
“Priya, it is your life; I respect your decision. I shall convey it to the Ramamurthys or ask
Ramani Mama to do so.” Her father touched her shoulders warmly.
At that moment, Mangala’s phone buzzed. It was Ramani Mama. Mangala’s face turned pale
upon hearing what Ramani Mama had to say. She hung up and informed the others that just
then, Mama had received the news that Ramamurthy’s daughter had ended her life by hanging
herself. Aaditya’s family, therefore, considers Priya to be an ill-omened girl and rejects the
proposal.
Priya wanted to scream, stomp her feet, and protest, but the tears made her weak. Tears
cascaded down her cheeks for a girl whom she had never met, but her heart reached out to
many such Aishwaryas, who, in an attempt to please near and dear ones, fell into the chasm
of death.
The following days were indeed agonizing. Priya couldn’t come to terms with the fact that a
well-educated girl had ended her life just like that.
Priya waited for a fortnight and wrote a message to Aaditya.
Mr. Aaditya,
It wasn’t exactly a pleasure meeting you. While I was composing myself to let you know that I
wouldn’t wish to proceed with this proposal, we got the heart breaking news of your sister’s
death, or should I call it suicide?
Instead of blaming themselves for her demise, your family ludicrously passes the buck on me.
That doesn’t anyway hamper my life, but your sister’s death has jolted me.
As an elder brother, have you even once sincerely tried to ascertain her position?
Whatever I say now may reflect as awry, but it is the truth. You may find a girl, another
Aishwarya, as your better half, but remember that by throttling the individuality of a woman,
you are only driving a poor soul towards insanity.
If only you had heard Aishwarya’s predicament! If only you had stood by her and spoken for
her then today you may not have lost your only sibling.
It is profoundly disheartening to know that in these days of the modern era, you and your
family still nurture gender bias.
While I convey my heartfelt condolences on the death of your sister and pray for the departed
soul to find solace, I also pray to the Lord to bring a drastic transformation in your family’s
perspective regarding the status of a woman in society. This sad incident should be the
ultimate eye-opener for your family.
May your family amass the necessary insight to accept a daughter-in-law with all her
hallmark qualities and features rather than putting fetters on her soaring ambitions.
Do not cut the wings of a bird that helps it to soar high in the sky. Don’t you know it will fall
on the earth and die?
Sincerely wishing you all the best!
Priya Venkatesh,
Lead project manager,
Cozy Homes.
‘Cling,’ the message reached Aaditya. He read it and gulped what seemed like a massive lump
of saliva. A lot had changed in the last few days. Maybe a lot more would change. Just that it
was a little too late.
Glossary
Paati——- Grandmother
Appa——-Father
Amma——Mother
Mama—–A term for Uncle
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
NAMES OF INDIVIDUALS AND FIRM USED IN THIS STORY ARE FICTITUOUS.
ANY RESEMBLANCES TO PEOPLE ALIVE OR DEAD OR ANY RESEMBLANCE
TO THE NAME OF THE FIRM MENTIONED IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL AND
NOT INTENTIONAL.
This Story was published in Tell Me Your Story project 13 Anthology and won the strong character award.