Sonali's Suitors - Bharati Rose (best books to read for self development .txt) 📗

Sonali’s Suitors: Chapter Two

I returned home at 10:00 p.m after an exhausting day at the campus. There was so much to study I wasn’t sure that I could keep up with the amount of work that I had to do. As soon as I walked through the front door I could hear my mom calling out to me.

“Sona, come into the living room for a second,” she yelled. With a deep sigh I made my way to her. She and my father were seated in front of the computer once again.

“What’s up mom? Can we make this quick? I need to start reviewing my class lectures,” I complained.

“Oh Sona! Just take a short break love. You’ve haven’t even eaten anything yet. I have vegetable biriyani kept aside for you in a hot packet. One sec, I’ll go and get it for you. Your father’s been waiting all evening to speak with you.”

“Well dad, what’s the occasion. It’s not every day mom makes biriyani for only three people.”
“You’re not happy your mom is in a good mood? I certainly am!”

“It’s not that, it’s just that when she’s in such a good mood, it usually concerns discussing my future.”

“You’re a clever child,” he remarked.

“Anyways, what did you want to talk to me about? Shoot.”

“Oh it’s just that the matrimonial bureau has some potential matches for you lined up. There were a couple of responses to your profile. Your mother and I went through them already and short-listed them to around 10 guys from all the responses we received. She just wants you to take a look and give us your opinion.”

“Right now dad? I have so much to do though. I couldn’t possibly go through them properly. Give me some time, ok?”

“Of course Sona. Take all the time you need. We wouldn’t ever want to pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”

I nodded, yet my heart told me there was little truth to that claim. Yes, my parents had no intention of forcing me into wedlock with someone, but then again they do pressure me into yielding to their requests time and time again, however unknowingly, especially mom. It’s really hard to refuse to do something for a mom and dad that have sacrificed so much in raising me, for whom I alone am the centre of the universe, and whom shed tears and smile just for my sake. Theirs is an unconditional love, and hence how can one not want to give them something in return. For most daughters like me, to honour their love the only token we can give them is accepting their guidance wholeheartedly throughout our lives.

My mom came back into the room with the biriyani. I took the plate from her hand and scurried away to my room.


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It was Saturday morning. I awoke to the sound of devotional hymns. I closed my ears with two of the many small pillows I had lying across the head of my bed. Rolling over on my side I attempted to go back to sleep. No use, I was up. Yawning I pushed back the covers and went to shower. When I returned I found my mom was tidying up my room.

“Sona, it’s about time you began to organize your things better child. Your in-laws will bite off my head if you keep your household in this state.”

“Ammi, please don’t lecture me in the morning. You do enough of that when I’m fully awake throughout the day.”

“You just watch, they will definitely chide me.”

“Mom...”

“Yes, Sona.”

“I have a very important question to ask that has been gnawing at me for a while now.”

She arched her brow as if to ask what the question was.

“Are these people you’re referring to looking for a maid or a daughter-in-law? If it’s a maid, I’m sorry mom but I’m already employed.”

“Don’t act cheeky with me Sona. I’ve told your father countless times not spoil you with his lenience but where does he listen to me. Have you looked at the profiles I narrowed down for you on the matrimonial site yet?”

“I’ll do it some other time.”

“You’re free now right? Do it now. You’re always putting things off and never getting anything done.”

“Alright, Alright! You win, I lose! I surrender. I’ll look at the stupid profiles.”

I walked towards my desk and opened up my laptop. I logged into the matrimonial site using my userid and password and pulled up my profile. Wow! I was quite surprised by the magnitude of responses. There were some pretty desperate people out there. Just to find out how my parents were intending on selling me, I read through the various sections of the profile. It read:


Sonali Venkatramanan Iyer
Age: 24
Education: Bachelor’s in Business Administration (in the process of completing MBA degree)
Qualities: Fun-loving, educated, intelligent, goal-oriented, excellent cook, friendly
Hobbies: Traditional Indian Classical dance, carnatic music, and sewing
Cast: Dīkshitar Brahmin
Country: Canada
City: Toronto

Description of desired groom:

Seeking a good-looking young man who has completed his post-secondary education and is employed in a full-time, permanent, high-paying job. Grooms that are between the age group of 24 to 28 are sought. They should reside in Ontario, Canada. Please contact us through the site if you are interested and have met these expectations.

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I couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter. My parents were serious about this shit. How much luck did they think they were going to have in finding me a sane guy, I was actually willing to marry, through this crappy website? For all they knew some guy could be lying about himself, saying he was a teetotaller, someone with not one bad habit, when really he was some psychotically deranged druggie.

The proof of that were all the lies that my parents had put in about me. The education and age sections were filled in properly but since when was I an excellent cook. Unless of course my mom was referring to the Kraft macaroni and cheese I whipped up. That would hardly constitute as excellent cooking. If that did, all those cordon bleu chefs might as well forget the art of cooking as people like mom hardly notice.

The other descriptors of me were very vague. I didn’t know how much you could understand about a person from just those qualifiers. The mention of cast really bugged me, but I never argued on the subject with my parents before, so I thought nothing more of it.

It was the last part about hobbies that was amusing. The list had some truth to it, and some embellishing. I am a properly trained bharatanatyam dancer, but it is not one of my interests. It was more of an obligation to my mom who loved dance but never got to dance herself as a result of her father. She thought that I should learn and I did learn for her sake. I liked dance though, and Kathak is pretty cool, which I have started taking lessons for, but salsa is what interests me. I like the briskness of the movements. It nearly takes my breath away. Not that my mom would share that feeling. I learned carnatic music at the same time as I did bharatanatyam. I was pretty good, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. I preferred Hindustani music. I absolutely loved ghazals and was mesmerized by those who could sing them. I was a diehard fan of Ghulam Ali, Hariharan, Asha bosle, and Lata Mangeshkar. The songs they sang just transported me into a magical place.

If only my life could be as soothingly sweet. Although many ghazals carry do have heart break and sorrow etched in the lyrics, melody and soul of the song. I guess everything has a flipside.

Mom cried out from the kitchen to come have lunch. That was enough of an excuse for me to escape momentarily from this junk. I would return after lunch to see which misers were short-listed.

Publication Date: 11-05-2011

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