‘Because it takes two to clap,’ she says, dropping her make-up brush and bringing her hands together in a clap.
‘A relationship should be effortless.’
‘Aadi,’ Alia says, using one of the newer nicknames she has for me, the most obvious one I would think, ‘an arranged marriage doesn’t work like that. You need to make an effort. Both parties should.’
I want to say,And where did that get you? but that would be cruel.
‘Anyway,’ I say, exhaling, ‘I’m going to tell Appa and Amma that I want out. I told Appa once already…’
‘And?’
‘You know how Appa is. He wasn’t honest with me about stuff in the beginning; you know that.’
‘Hmm… Those things don’t mean anything. It’s Appa. It’s not a deal breaker,’ Alia says.
Not for you.
‘When do you plan to tell them?’
‘Tonight. Appa is already home.’
I slip the ring on my ring finger before I walk into my parents’ bedroom. They’ve just finished dinner and are getting ready to retire for the night. I make a show of relieving myself of the sizable emerald and give it to Amma, who starts turning it over, examining it like I may have lost a part of it.
‘Edu chennagide…’ It’s fine, she says, wearing a perplexed expression.
Appa is rarely rattled, but this time, he is genuinely nonplussed.
He chalked up our last conversation about the engagement to a mood, something he believed would blow over. He clearly hasn’t mentioned it to Amma. Even Alia didn’t know.
‘This engagement is over,’ I say.
‘Why? What happened suddenly?’ Amma asks.
‘I’m not comfortable in this relationship; this is not something I want for myself.’
‘You can’t just break off an engagement without giving us a good reason,’ Amma says, her eyes sparking fire. ‘What is uncomfortable about it?’
The last time I had seen Amma this angry was when I got 18 out of 100 for algebra in fourth grade.
Appa rescued me then.
‘Yes,’ Appa asks, sitting down on a single-seater sofa. ‘What exactly do you mean by “not comfortable”?’
This is when I should tell them about Vedveer’s visit, that he’s the one who called off the engagement, but I don’t say it. He wants to apologize. He sent a couple of texts saying so. I can’t tell them half the story, and if I admit he wants to apologize, they’ll be jumping through hoops for the prince all over again, with Alia cheering them on!
‘You haven’t been entirely honest with me about this proposal,’ I say, looking at Appa, who is leaning back, arms folded across his chest in a stubborn posture.
‘Is that what’s making you uncomfortable?’ Appa asks.
Amma glares at me while refusing to ask her husband what this is all about.
‘Did I deceive you?’ Appa asks.
Just like that, Appa turns the tables on me, playing the emotional card.
‘I wouldn’t do anything that isn’t good for this family, youknow that, right?’ Appa says.
Amma nods.
