inside, trying to
make sense of it.
‘It’s a shawl,’ I said. I didn’t have much money to afford a big gift.
With winter coining, I thought this would be a nice present. Besides, it
was within my budget of five hundred bucks.
‘So thoughtful. This will keep me warm.’ Riya said with a big
smile on her face.
'I hear you play good basketball. Can you beat her?’Yammi said.
‘I try,' I said.
‘He’s being modest. He plays state level. Going to be college
captain soon.’
‘Handsome college captain,’ Yamini chuckled.
A waiter brought over a tray of snacks.
‘What’s that?' I said.
‘Sushi,’ the waiter said.
I had never heard that word before. I looked puzzled,
'It’s fish on rice.’ Yamini said.
I extended my hand to pick up a piece.
‘Raw fish,’ Riya said.
‘What?’ I said and recoiled from the tray.
The girls burst into laughter,
‘It’s okay, Japanese food. Even I don’t eat it,’ Riva said.
‘Your family is vegetarian, right?’ I said.
‘Yes, but our guests are not. It’s for them. Come, let me introduce
you to some people.’ Riya grabbed my arm.
‘Hey, Riya, one second,’ Ayesha called from behind.
Riya excused herself and went back. I saw the five girls chat with
each other in an animated manner. At one point, everyone apart from
Riya laughed; she didn't seem to find the joke as funny as the others.
'Sorry,’ Riya said as she rejoined me.‘Are you having a good time?’
‘Fancy house you have,’ I said as we walked to the other end of the
garden.
‘My dad’s and uncles’ house, you mean.’
‘Still, great place.’
‘Thanks,’she said.‘Are you having a good time?’
'I'm with you.That’s how I define a good time.’
She smacked my back with her hand and smiled.
‘So, who am I meeting?’ I said.
‘Dad, Mom and some of their friends.’
‘Dad and Mom?’ I said.
Every guy has a fear of meeting his girl’s parents. Apparently, there
is a scientific term for it—soceraphobia.
We reached the bar. A distinguished-looking couple in their early
fifties stood with guests.
Riya’s parents held a glass of champagne each. They looked like
those people in the Titan watch ads. They wore well-ironed clothes
with immaculate accessories. Everything they had on was designer,
including their smiles. Riya’s father wore a black bandhgala and gold-
rimmed glasses. Riya's mother wore a gold coloured silk saree.
‘Riya, there you are,’ Mr Somani said. He put his arm around his
daughter. ‘Rohan’s been asking for you.’
Riya extracted herself from her father’s embrace and moved aside
one step.
‘Hi, Rohan,’ she said. ‘When did you arrive?’
Rohan was a handsome man in his mid-twenties with gelled hair.
He wore a black formal suit.
‘Two minutes ago.The parlour took so bloody long to finish my
facial,’ Rohan said with a heavy British accent.
Rohan Chandak, I learnt, had come from London three days ago.
He and his mother were staying at Riya’s house for the duration of
their one-week trip. The Chandaks and the Somanis both hailed from
Jaipur, family friends for three generations. The Chandaks had a
hospitality business in London. I presumed, like the Somanis, they
were rich.
‘Never mind, young man,’ Riya’s father said and patted Rohan’s
back. ‘We are so proud of you, beta.'
Mr Somani recited the story of Rohan’s father who had died two
years ago. Rohan had taken over the hotel business at a young age and
was doing extremely well. Riya and Rohan seemed to have heard the
story too many times before and looked embarrassed. Mr Somani went
on for three minutes. I checked it against my watch.
‘It’s okay, uncle,’ Rohan said.‘I just do it to make my mum happy
and proud.That’s all.’
Riya’s mother stood next to her husband throughout. Like me, she
had not said a word.
‘So, at just twenty-four, running six hotels in London with four
hundred rooms, and planning the seventh. So proud
make sense of it.
‘It’s a shawl,’ I said. I didn’t have much money to afford a big gift.
With winter coining, I thought this would be a nice present. Besides, it
was within my budget of five hundred bucks.
‘So thoughtful. This will keep me warm.’ Riya said with a big
smile on her face.
'I hear you play good basketball. Can you beat her?’Yammi said.
‘I try,' I said.
‘He’s being modest. He plays state level. Going to be college
captain soon.’
‘Handsome college captain,’ Yamini chuckled.
A waiter brought over a tray of snacks.
‘What’s that?' I said.
‘Sushi,’ the waiter said.
I had never heard that word before. I looked puzzled,
'It’s fish on rice.’ Yamini said.
I extended my hand to pick up a piece.
‘Raw fish,’ Riya said.
‘What?’ I said and recoiled from the tray.
The girls burst into laughter,
‘It’s okay, Japanese food. Even I don’t eat it,’ Riva said.
‘Your family is vegetarian, right?’ I said.
‘Yes, but our guests are not. It’s for them. Come, let me introduce
you to some people.’ Riya grabbed my arm.
‘Hey, Riya, one second,’ Ayesha called from behind.
Riya excused herself and went back. I saw the five girls chat with
each other in an animated manner. At one point, everyone apart from
Riya laughed; she didn't seem to find the joke as funny as the others.
'Sorry,’ Riya said as she rejoined me.‘Are you having a good time?’
‘Fancy house you have,’ I said as we walked to the other end of the
garden.
‘My dad’s and uncles’ house, you mean.’
‘Still, great place.’
‘Thanks,’she said.‘Are you having a good time?’
'I'm with you.That’s how I define a good time.’
She smacked my back with her hand and smiled.
‘So, who am I meeting?’ I said.
‘Dad, Mom and some of their friends.’
‘Dad and Mom?’ I said.
Every guy has a fear of meeting his girl’s parents. Apparently, there
is a scientific term for it—soceraphobia.
We reached the bar. A distinguished-looking couple in their early
fifties stood with guests.
Riya’s parents held a glass of champagne each. They looked like
those people in the Titan watch ads. They wore well-ironed clothes
with immaculate accessories. Everything they had on was designer,
including their smiles. Riya’s father wore a black bandhgala and gold-
rimmed glasses. Riya's mother wore a gold coloured silk saree.
‘Riya, there you are,’ Mr Somani said. He put his arm around his
daughter. ‘Rohan’s been asking for you.’
Riya extracted herself from her father’s embrace and moved aside
one step.
‘Hi, Rohan,’ she said. ‘When did you arrive?’
Rohan was a handsome man in his mid-twenties with gelled hair.
He wore a black formal suit.
‘Two minutes ago.The parlour took so bloody long to finish my
facial,’ Rohan said with a heavy British accent.
Rohan Chandak, I learnt, had come from London three days ago.
He and his mother were staying at Riya’s house for the duration of
their one-week trip. The Chandaks and the Somanis both hailed from
Jaipur, family friends for three generations. The Chandaks had a
hospitality business in London. I presumed, like the Somanis, they
were rich.
‘Never mind, young man,’ Riya’s father said and patted Rohan’s
back. ‘We are so proud of you, beta.'
Mr Somani recited the story of Rohan’s father who had died two
years ago. Rohan had taken over the hotel business at a young age and
was doing extremely well. Riya and Rohan seemed to have heard the
story too many times before and looked embarrassed. Mr Somani went
on for three minutes. I checked it against my watch.
‘It’s okay, uncle,’ Rohan said.‘I just do it to make my mum happy
and proud.That’s all.’
Riya’s mother stood next to her husband throughout. Like me, she
had not said a word.
‘So, at just twenty-four, running six hotels in London with four
hundred rooms, and planning the seventh. So proud
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