The Misadventures of Naina Dholakia

Move-in Day

Naina

Have you ever swallowed your tears? I give it my best shot and fail as I bid goodbye to my dad who is not able to make it to college with me on my move-in day. Although it is an emotional moment, I can't help but await a predictable piece of advice next.

"Remember what we came this far for. Work hard and always give your best in anything that you do. We are always here for you," my dad gives me a variation of the same fundamental advice I have been getting from him since I got admitted to university. I feel another variation of "remember your roots" coming my way.

"Also: Don't become like these Americans. Make friendships with the people of our community and reserve our values. Always remember what we taught you growing up back in India." The advising session comes to an end as I touch his feet and hug him a final time before getting in the car with my sister and mom. 

When I came to the US two years ago at the age of 17, I always imagined if my life would be like what I saw in American shows and read in novels. My knowledge of college life here is limited to frat parties, sororities, underage drinking, red cups, something called a 'keg stand' and at least one teacher-student relationship. While this sounds incredible in itself, I hope I'm wrong and college life is nothing but normal. No drinks. No sex. No drugs. No White boys. No Boys, period.

As if you're interesting enough for any of that, my inner-truth teller gives me a reality check.

She's not wrong.

My sister settles in the driver's seat and waves a finger in my face to put on my seat belt. At 25, she's like a second, cooler mom to me. She agrees with me on that and says that I'm her experiment child for when she has children of her own someday. Speaking of...

"Are you sure you want to drop the bomb today?" I ask her in a low voice as mom is still outside talking to my dad about doing the dishes after he's done with his morning tea. Boy, that'll be a while.

"I'm not overthinking anymore. I can't keep this in any longer. It's been over a year with Ben now and mama's starting to talk to me about seeing guys for marriage. I'm gonna scream if I hear "the right age for marriage" one more time," She rants as we talk about whether to tell mom about her White boyfriend of 1.5 years that she met online. On a dating app. And I was the one who made her profile. In my defense, I didn't think she'd actually find someone worthy on Hinge but she truly found a tiny diamond in a giant heap of hay on there. I couldn't be happier for her but telling mom and dad that she has a boyfriend, let alone an American boyfriend is like telling me Taylor Swift retired from music. I'd be thunderstruck and lying on the cold hard ground, and I imagine my parents would react the same.

"Look, I don't want to give you any false hope because even though mom might understand some of it, dad will set you up with a 26-year old gujju mamma's boy the second he hears you like someone else. I don't even know what he'll do when he finds out he's White. We've been hiding it pretty good so far so why not keep it that way until your job is finalized and you can stand up for yourself?" I advise my big sister with all the wisdom I have gathered from romance books, indian tv soaps and my grandmother's gossip sessions.

"Because, he deserves to be with someone who can take a stand for him. I've met his mom, dad and even his grandfather who have been nothing but nice to me and I can't even tell mom-" 

"Tell me what, Priya?" My mom settles in the back seat and asks my sister about the lovely conversation we've been having about her secret boyfriend.

"Tell you that now that I'm going, she will wash all the dishes after every meal, you don't need to tell dad to do it. Right, didi?" I smile innocently at my sister whose face is redder than usual. I know she hates doing dishes. 

"Right." She says gritting her teeth and starting the car.

"Oh please. Your dad needs to participate sometimes in household activities too. Does he not live here? It'll not throw the Earth off its axis if he took a couple less rounds of this five-star resort looking after the housekeepers," My mom speaks to her heart's fullest as we drive away from the motel which my mom and dad manage during the day. Yeah, it's a two-star place at best but the job pays them decent for now and also gives us a big apartment to live in. Plus, it's just an hour away from my university. 

"No comment. I'm driving." My sister says adjusting her rear-view mirror.

"Same. I'm directing." I say as I pretend to study the map in my phone taking us to my university which consists of driving straight on a freeway for 40 miles. 

This is going to be an interesting ride, my inner voice tells me. So I brace for impact.

________________________________________________________________________________

Gujarati-to-English translations:

Mama: Uncle (usually means mom's brother)

Didi: Older sister

Gujju: A shorter word for 'Gujarati' which can refer to language as well as the caste of people living in a state called 'Gujarat' in West India.