The next day, the girl and I met at the park. My sister Santosh, Vijay, and the girl’s mother accompanied us. We sat on a sheet beneath a large shade tree, and this time I felt more comfortable to look at her closely. As I asked basic questions about her education, I could see that one of her eyes was indeed crossed.
How would I settle this matter? I felt great pressure to please both her father, who was a close friend to my father, and Vijay, who acted as the matchmaker. The relationship between my family and my brother-in-law was a delicate one. We must keep him happy, so in return, he would keep my sister happy. I decided to prolong my decision and discuss it further with my parents. Once back in Malaudh, I still did not know what to do.
One evening, my father and I traveled to Mandi Gobind-Garh to visit my uncle. We were having a drink and pakoras when a knock sounded on the door at around 8:30 p.m.
“Who could that be this late?” my uncle wondered as he went to the door.
Moments later, he returned. “Krishan, there is a man here to see you,” he said. “It is urgent.”
Taken aback, I went outside. The man introduced himself as Yash Verma. He had ridden his scooter forty miles from Nabha to Malaudh, and when he learned I was at my uncle’s home, he rode another forty-five miles to Mandi Gobind-Garh. Altogether, it was a three-hour journey. He had learned from a relative of Vijay Kaura that I was back from the US for a short stay and was looking for a girl to marry. “I want you to meet my niece,” he said. “She is very qualified and well-suited for this relationship.”
“What are her qualifications?” I asked.
“She has a master’s in zoology, which she has completed with honors at Punjab University in Chandigarh,” he replied.
Yash saw the confused look on my face. “It is the study of animals,” he explained.
I raised my eyebrows, impressed and intrigued by this girl who completed her studies with honors in such a unique subject.
“We are interested in discussing further a marriage between you and my niece,” Yash said. “Would you like to come to Nabha to meet her and the family?”
I agreed to go to Nabha the next day. Happy, Yash got on his scooter and rode off into the dark.
The next day, my father and I rode a bus twenty-four miles to Nabha. As soon as my father and I stepped off the bus, Yash Verma and several other relatives came forward to greet us. They had been waiting at their family-owned petrol pump which happened to be right next to the bus station. They ushered us into their car, and the chauffeur drove us to Yash’s house, where the rest of the family was waiting to meet me.
As soon as my father and I entered the house, the girl’s parents, her brother, and her grandmother crowded around us, offering warm greetings and friendly smiles. When they introduced me to the grandmother, I immediately bowed my head and made a gesture to touch her feet, a customary practice to show respect to the elderly and get their blessings. Later, I learned she approved of me just from this gesture, thinking, This boy has come from America after so many years and still remembers the Indian culture.
The family watched us closely as we sat in the drawing room, drinking tea and warm milk, and chatting politely. At two o’clock, we gathered around the table for lunch. The women of the house served a large meal of vegetables, rice pilaf, yogurt, and chapatis. The girl’s name was Raj, and she joined us at the table, sitting several places away from me. I tried to talk to her in the presence of her mother, brother, and aunt, but whenever I asked her a question, someone else answered for her. She looked at me a couple of times without much expression, and while I didn’t want to stare in front of her mother, I felt pleased with her overall appearance and demeanor.
After about ten minutes, Raj left the table, and everyone else returned to the drawing room. Her father and uncle wanted to know my decision.
“My father and I will discuss the matter with my mother, and we will let you know,” I replied.
We shook hands, and her other uncle gave me a big hug, once again impressing me with how friendly and sociable this family was.
When we returned to Malaudh, I told my mother about Raj and her family in Nabha. She was so overjoyed to hear about the girl from Nabha that she couldn’t stop smiling and exclaiming how wonderful it was. I did not find out until much later why she was so joyful about the meeting with Raj.
It turned out that my mother already knew about the Nabha family. One day, a customer from the village of Kheri had stopped by my father’s shop. He was well-known to our family, and my mother had invited him in for a cup of tea. They got to talking, and the man told her about the Vermas, saying that they had four or five daughters. “This family is well-respected in Nabha,” he told her. “And their daughters are well-educated and eligible to be married.”
“Oh,” my mother had exclaimed. “Why don’t you tell this family in Nabha about my son Krishan who will be coming from the States.”
“Oh, Mrs. Bedi, that will not be possible,” the man said. “This family is too good for your family. Socially and financially, they are better known in the community than your family. It would not be
