The Unsuitable Suitors

Chapter Twenty Seven

I told my parents about Praan. I explained it was serious. They had been sitting on a bench on the outside patio, enjoying the early summer sun. Both my parents had their legs outstretched and were wearing Mexican sombreros to protect their faces from getting too tanned. They were looking out across the long British garden like two Mexican gringos. I expected them to be ecstatic, open a bottle of champagne or sangria in their own way, which was brewing a good pot of tea and cutting a nice Victoria Sponge. Their thirty-something daughter had found someone to marry. Miracles could happen!

But after the initial happiness, and learning more details about their future son-in-law, they were cautious.

"We are not sure about your choice of partner," they said almost in unison, after they had prized all the details about my future partner.

"He lives at home with his mum!" Mum had said loudly and incredulously. "Okay, so you want a mummy's boy. Why hasn't he bought himself a house yet? At his age?"

Dad had tried to hush her, reminding her that the neighbour liked to tend to his flowers that were right by the fence where we were sitting.

I pointed to myself and Daman, who had come out to swing his new driver. "Look at us, Mum, it's expensive round here."

"Don't you dare mess up the lawn!" said Mum when she saw him about to practise a swing.

Daman stopped. "You should be happy she has finally found someone."

"Thanks, bro."

My father was moping like a lost sheep that I had not married a partner from the exact sub group of Indians he wanted, and he would not be able to hold his head up high with the relatives and talk about common Punjabi village landmarks and corrupt Punjabi politicians with my new in-laws.

"Nimmee, he is not from our community and not even from Punjab! I just don't know how our culture will match with theirs!" he said, shaking his head sadly. "What will people say?"

"So his family has Hindu blood and his great-uncle's side are all Muslim, and his sister's converted to Church of England! Oh my God! What will people say!"

You could never win with these two. Well. Now he'll have a Sikh in the family. too!

"And from Bombay, we've never even been there! We heard Bombay people are very crafty!"

"Bombay is still in India. They are way more advanced than us lot!" The anticipation of a celebratory cup of tea and cake was dashed, though it might still be wheeled out as comfort food.

When we were sitting in the lounge, I showed my parents a photo of Praan on my mobile phone. My mother took off her glasses to have a closer look, and my dad, who was long sighted held the phone away from himself.

"So?" asked Daman. "Like the look of Prawn?"

"Praan," I corrected.

"Looks like a baboon to me!" said my mother unhappily in Punjabi.

"Baboon?" Had I misheard her?

"Yes."

"Don't say that about your future son-in-law!" said my father. "He looks all right."

I felt a little relieved and tried to mouth 'thank you' to my Dad but he was looking out to the garden for signs of the snooping neighbour.

"We will have to spruce him up if we are going to introduce him to the family. Go upstairs. I think I have a skin-lightening cream. Encourage him to use it!" my mum said.