My Sister's Big Fat Indian Wedding by Sajni Patel

Author:Sajni Patel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2022-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

(Wednesday Morning: Four Days Until the Wedding)

#AnotherDamPatel

Another Dam(ani) Patel. Some cousins were married to Patels, Urvi had married a Patel, Maitri was marrying a Patel. And if Mummie had it her way, I’d be the next in line to get Patel-inated.

The giant and expanding contingent of Patels was invading our backyard.

Even though Pranit wasn’t supposed to cross our threshold, there was no rule about him going straight to the backyard and circumventing the entire system. My parents immediately showered him with hugs and pinched his cheeks and, of course, forced food galore upon him. I mean, why not feed your own starving children, Mummie? Just kidding. There was enough food to feed . . . well, to feed a wedding!

Mummie and aunts and aunties, including Pranit’s and Naveen’s moms, cooked away in the kitchen, preparing numerous sweets, from the nontraditional but cult fave baklava to the expected condensed balls of laddoo and barfi squares sprinkled with almond slivers and kesar kaju katli diamonds covered in edible silver foil.

Then the inevitable happened. Mummie cocked her chin at me. I dragged Neha with me to water down the awkwardness of finally meeting Naveen’s mom.

“My youngest daughters,” Mummie proudly introduced us. “The baby, Neha. She’s a freshman in high school. Very smart, top of her class. And this is Zurika. She’s a senior in high school. Very talented and smart. She’s starting college in the fall.”

I swallowed. Was I, though?

“My Naveen is starting college next year, too. Which school are you attending?” his mom asked, her focus homing in on me, the most eligible girl, while Neha wagged her brows at me and slunk away. I wanted to grab her by the shirt and force her to stay, but she’d already made it to the back door. Past her, Naveen raised his brows at us through the open windows before turning away.

Deserters!

“We haven’t decided yet,” Mummie answered.

“What will your studies be?” his mom asked.

“I hope music,” I replied, but Mummie tsked at my response.

Naveen’s mom looked from Mummie to me, like maybe I was kidding and she couldn’t tell why I’d make such a joke. She quirked a brow, that very muted yet clear and condescending response that most gave when someone wanted to major in things like music or art or writing. She didn’t say anything, but I knew that perched on her tongue was a tirade about how such degrees were a waste of time and money, were never put to use, and how those who received them nearly always ended up in jobs in other fields and often had to settle for low-paying ones.

Well, good. Maybe she’d change her mind about trying to prearrange my marriage to Naveen. But also, wow. I totally got where Naveen’s sadness came from whenever he mentioned his parents not approving of his ambitions.

Mummie chimed in, “As you know, my eldest two are lawyers. While Zurika plays the violin—she’s going to play during the reception—she will hopefully go to law school. Her interests seem to point that way.

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