One - Payal

When the alarm rang, Payal almost fell off her bed, trying to find her phone to shut it off. Glaring at the screen with bleary eyes, she angrily dismissed the alarm, wishing it never rang. Why did it have to ring so early in the morning?

Why do you sleep so late? Her half-awake brain asked right back.

"Payal!" came her mother's voice. The door cracked open, and her mother peeked in. "Oh, you're awake, good." She closed the door then, and Payal heard her mom bustle away toward the kitchen. She fell back to the pillows, groaning her lack of sleep, when her phone rang.

Rohan (Office), the caller id stated.

"If this is about work, I swear I'm going to reach your ear through the mobile handset and pull it hard enough to make you deaf." Payal greeted her best friend and colleague.

"I'm surprised you can be this creative without having your first cup of tea yet." Rohan said on the other side. "Have some mercy. I pulled an all-nighter in the office, so you could go home."

"Haan. To mai konsa ghode bech kar so gayi thi (It's not like I had a very deep and relaxing sleep)" Payal snapped, irritated at Rohan for being logical this early in the morning. "I went to sleep only four hours ago. And now I need to come to office again."

"You got your own bed for the night. And Aunty's breakfast too. If I were you, I wouldn't argue." Rohan shot back. "Anyway, get to office earlier than you plan to. I can't find the final list of annexures, can't arrange the documents without it."

"It should be in my folder on the drive." Payal yawned, getting up and making her way to the closet to get her work clothes out. "Is the MS Software matter listed today?" she asked. "I'll have to go get another date, because Sherman can't make it to court today."

"Still can't find the list in your folder." said Rohan. "And yes, it's been listed."

Payal groaned, putting the maroon kurti she had pulled out back in, and taking out a white formal shirt in its place.

"Chuck it. I'll come by 9. We'll align together. See you then." She told him.

"See you." The line clicked dead.

The call had woken her up a bit, but the hot shower woke her up fully and she felt much better by the time she was dressed. Payal left her room and went to the kitchen to find her mom making tea. She moved to the refrigerator to pull out the dough for paratha. Her mom's eyebrows shot up in question.

"I'm leaving earlier today. Rohan called." She said, tying an apron, and getting the belan out, along with flour. "Can't eat with the others, I'll be gone by the time they come to the table."

"Payal, this schedule of yours is really irritating and unpredictable!" her mother protested as Payal started to roll out her parathas, while the stove warmed the tawa her mother set on it.

"Mom, it's really not my fault. You can talk to my senior at work. At least I come home. Rohan pulls all-nighters at office half the time." Payal argued, as she put the first paratha on the tawa.

"Don't compare yourself with your colleagues on these things! It is not an achievement!" her mother admonished. "Just look at your eyes! You have dark circles underneath from improper sleep, and your face is getting paler by the day! Beta, you know we are looking for suitable marriage proposals for you; at least for that, take better care of yourself!" Her mother complained.

Payal scoffed. "If the 'proposal' doesn't like my dark circles, I won't marry him anyway." She teased, finishing applying chutney on both parathas and rolling them up before wrapping it a foil and putting them in her 'emergency breakfast box'. She strained the tea into her cup straight from the stove where it was boiling. "My dark circles are not because I like staying up late, it's because I can't help them, Ma. If he or his family can't put up with them and what they represent, I can't marry into their house." She said, serious now.

"But a less stressful job -

"Doesn't warrant any growth in career." Payal cut her mother midsentence. "You know this field, Ma. And you know me. I'm not going to rehash this one right now." She gulped the last of the tea and put her cup for wash in the sink. Leaning in, she kissed her mother's cheeks in goodbye, before rushing out toward the station to catch the 8.32 am local train to office.

***

The office was empty except for the peons and the cleaners when she arrived, and of course, Rohan was passed out on his desk. Payal sighed, not wanting to wake him up, but the office hours would start soon.

"Rohan." She shook him gently. He awoke with a start, focusing on her after a moment. Rohan could pull off a sleep deprived look as 'cute', with his dark hair falling messily on his forehead, and his dark brown eyes enhanced by his fair skin automatically. He had quite the 'player' image back in college and now in the office too. Payal was tired of answering why they never dated despite being such good friends. And the jealous looks she got from her female coworkers when Rohan sat with her to work or to eat were now to be expected.

Rohan didn't mind the attention. He ate it all up, loving being a ladies' man and flirting with them every chance he got. Even if he was droopy-eyed from sleep deprivation when the chance was presented.

"Wow. Don't you look extra pretty today." He commented, making Payal slap his shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?" he complained.

"False compliments and flattery will get you nowhere with me, remember?" Payal asked.

He yawned. "Yes, you told me that approximately five seconds after we first met in law school six years ago." He replied.

"Very impressive memory." Teased Payal. "Now why don't you make yourself presentable while I get coffee for you, so that when you meet Sherman, you don't look like a zombie?" Payal suggested. The next moment she was wrapped up in a hug by Rohan semi-yelling the words "You be the best-est, Payal!"

"Okay, enough. You're gonna give everyone the wrong idea!" Payal struggled to release his hold, laughing as he grumbled about her being a 'spoilsport'. She got to work as more people began coming in, opening her folder on the desktop to look for the annexures.

It was lunch time when the call came.

"Hello" she picked up the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Haan beta" her mother's voice greeted her on the other side. "Are you free this Sunday?" she asked.

"Free to do what?" Payal asked.

"I've sent a photo to you. Just see it once. If you like him, we will go meet him and his family." said her mother.

Payal sighed. "And if I don't?" she asked.

"Well, we won't agree to meet him then." said her mother, in a slightly disappointed tone.

"Ma" Payal said. "Do you and papa like the guy?"

"Payal..."

"Ma, it's a simple query. Do you both like him?" asked Payal.

"Yes, we think he's a suitable match. Not Gujarati, but they also live here in Mumbai, and are based in Udaipur." said her mother.

That got Payal's attention. "How did this alliance come by?"

"Theirs is a Marwari joint family" answered her mother. "A little orthodox, but they have a good name in the society. They were looking for alliances for the eldest son, who is a doctor. Mr. Mehta, the family head and the boy's father himself called your father."

"But why us? We aren't even Marwari, and we don't live in a joint family either." asked Payal, confused.

"Their son has really strict preferences, it seems." answered her mother.

"Ma, this seems... odd. I don't understand. An orthodox Marwari family decided to meet a girl who isn't even from the same community? And what does 'strict' preferences mean?" Payal asked.

"Payal, beta now you don't start with your cross examination. Your father knows them. Mr. Mehta is a very affluent businessman. Him and his brother are very cordial and accommodating. The family also seems very well-mannered from what we heard." Said Payal's mother. "We think their son is a good match for you. You see the photo and tell us what you think."

"I'm not seeing any photo." snapped Payal, suddenly irritated. "If you and papa like him, I agree to meet him once. You can say yes from my side for this." she continued, as Rohan came over with the meal box that he ordered.

"But Payal -

"Ma, please. Seeing a photo will make an impression and I'd rather do that when I meet him. I don't want to see his photo." said Payal. "Okay, I need to eat now, bye." She cut the call before her mother could protest any further.

Rohan laughed. "Alliance?"

Payal nodded. "This time both Ma and Papa think he's a good match. But the weird part is that they aren't Gujarati."

"Woah. Where are they from?" asked Rohan.

"Udaipur. But based in Mumbai due to business. It's an orthodox Marwari joint family." Payal absentmindedly drew patterns on the plate with her spoon. "The alliance is for their elder son. But they made the first move, which is surprising."

"See I get your parents. They are really progressive in their ways. So, they wouldn't disagree just because it is a non-Gujarati family. But for the other side to agree and make a first move, I agree, it's very surprising." said Rohan. "What does he do? The boy?"

"He's a doctor, as per what mom said." answered Payal. "See, that's also weird. It's a family business, but the elder son chose a service profession instead of joining the family business, and his 'orthodox' family agreed." She observed.

"Sounds odd. But I think if you're going to meet him, then all these questions will be answered that day." said Rohan. "So, you shouldn't micro-analyze so much. Tension bhagao aur Matar Paneer khao (let the tension go and enjoy the Matar Paneer.)" He joked, making Payal mock-slap his arm in retaliation, but understanding what he meant.

Pushing the unsettling feelings aside, she opened her mother's chat on her phone and deleted the picture sent without downloading it. "Okay, time to get back to work."

***

Sunday arrived faster than Payal expected.

Her family pretended to be normal and calm, but she could see the anxiety in the rushed preparations being made to welcome their guests. Her father and elder brother were supervising the cleaning of their apartment and setting up the drawing room. Meanwhile, her mother and sister-in-law were bustling around in the kitchen, ensuring that the lunch spread was as per their expectations.

Payal had tried to help in both areas, but her mother told her to prepare for the meeting and get ready instead. Unfortunately, that task gave Payal a lot of time alone with her thoughts. In the last few days, she had heard a lot about the eldest son of the Mehtas. His name was Vivaan, and he was in the first year of residency in Cardiothoracic surgery at SNG Hospital in Mumbai. He was two years older than her, and the eldest child in his family. The Mehta family was affluent and rich. And to top it off a joint Hindu family business, with every male including Vivaan being a coparcenary to the business. He had a younger sister, who was still studying, and another younger cousin, his kaka's son. The cousin was married, which was another surprise. Orthodox families staunchly believed in the marriage of their eldest child first. But here, that too was reversed.

Payal's family was higher middle class, so there was no match in income level. Her family was small, just her parents, her older brother and her sister-in-law. All of them working in service class. So, there was a professional divide as well. Her family was progressive, believing that perspective mattered most. Her parents had no issue with their son being an atheist by faith (even if Payal and her mother were religious), their daughter-in-law being from Karnataka (a love marriage) and that Payal worked outside the house for long hours. Payal had grown up with free thinking, and with her parents always encouraging her to gauge her decision and take it herself. They only supported and gave their opinion. The final choice was always hers.

With such a wide cultural difference between the two families, how did this alliance even come into existence? Then there was her own image of a life partner. She had her own idea and desires with this relationship, which would occupy the foremost position in her life. Payal did not want any dominance in her relationship. She wanted someone who was her equal in the sense that he completed her. Someone who would treat her as his partner in everything, who would place the trust between them as foremost in their relationship. Would Vivaan agree to these ideas? Would he think differently on this? In either case, how could she determine this from just one meeting?

Payal struggled with these thoughts while she draped her sari. She was finished with getting ready when the doorbell rang outside. Without her permission, her heart raced. She had seen (and rejected) several proposals at the 'look at the photo' step, but this was the first time that the next step was taking place. The Mehta family even had a name for this meeting, calling it dekha-dikhai.

Payal waited until it was absolutely necessary to go out in the hall. She stepped out then, folding her hands in a namaste. The hall was filled with people. Vivaan's family was huge.

Her father beckoned. "Meet our guests, Payal."

He pointed toward the five elder people sitting on the sofas opposite to Payal's parents. "This is Mr. Prakash Mehta, the head of the Mehta family. Beside him on one side is his wife Alka Mehta, and on the other side is his mother Sarita Mehta. On the other sofa, are Mr. Mehta's younger brother and his wife, Hiten and Gauri Mehta." Prakash Mehta appeared every bit the strict father-in-law character, with his crisp ironed clothes and rimless glasses on an angular face. He was regal and dignified but he smiled in greeting at Payal. The smile softened the angular features. Beside him, on the left, sat Alka Mehta, a smaller petite woman, wearing a (thankfully) simple sari, but with the pallu draped respectfully around her shoulders. She had softer features and a motherly smile. Hiten Mehta was a dressed less formally than his brother, but he too had a hard angular businessman face. His wife was dressed just like her sister-in-law, but she had a calculative face. The most disturbing was the elderly grandmother, who had a frown on her face. Sarita Mehta was clearly not happy to be here.

Payal bowed respectfully to each elder. And received the first strike from Sarita Mehta.

"See Alka, if this girl was from our community, she would know that youngsters in our family always greet the elders by touching their feet." She said this with a glare at Payal's parents. "These progressive families spoil their children with their free thinking."

"Ma-sa!" Mr. Mehta admonished his mother.

Payal bristled at the barb thrown at her parents. But she held in her irritation, instead bowing a little lower to the old lady.

"I apologize for speaking out of turn." She spoke quietly. "But my parents have taught me that we come from a civilization of humility, which is why we always bow with folded hands to anyone we meet, as a mark of respect. So, I was upholding the tradition of ages old, by greeting the guests with respect." she refused to look away from the old woman as she said this.

"As for touching someone's feet, I have a different viewpoint." She continued in the same quiet voice. "Touching someone's feet is either a mark of utmost respect, where we seek blessings from a person; or a gesture of affection among loved ones. I don't consider it a greeting. Neither do I know anyone in this family to the extent that I would touch their feet out of respect or affection. That gesture, I reserve only for my family and my parents. To everyone else, I bow with respect, as has been taught by my parents." She concluded.

The old lady flushed in anger. Beside her father, Payal saw her mother's expression - she was not happy with the way Payal had spoken. Always non-confrontational. Payal's father wore a poker face. Then Prakash Mehta broke the ice by chuckling. Payal looked up at him in surprise.

"I admire your ability to take a stance, but more than that, I admire how you explained, calmly and in a soft tone to remove the accusation from it." He smiled. "I apologize on behalf of my mother; she is a little traditional but didn't mean to insult anyone." He folded his hands, looking at Payal's father.

Payal's father immediately took hold of Mr. Mehta's hands, dismissing any need of apology. Payal smiled as warmly as she could to reduce the tension. The expression on dadi's face was priceless.

"Chori ki zubaan to churi se bhi tez chale hai. Par bina awaz uthaye samne baat ki, isliye maaf karu hu thare ko (This girl's tongue is sharper than the blade of a knife. But since she didn't raise her voice, I will forgive her.)" she said, and Payal smiled graciously, bowing in humility. But she knew she had won the battle. She had subtly let them know that she won't stand down just because they were potentially the bride side.

"I'll take over the introductions from Karsan bhai." Said Mr. Mehta. "The most important person who wasn't introduced is my son, Vivaan."

Payal finally focused on the other side of the room, which was in the periphery so far. The chair on the far right was occupied by a man in his late twenties, with dark hair, fair skin and brown eyes so light, that his eyes seemed to shimmer subtly in the bright light from the living room windows. His face glowed, but not because of his fair skin tone. This was the shine of knowledge and maturity. He was dressed in dark blue shirt and cream trousers, which fit him well and showed off (modestly) his well-built figure. Sub - consciously, Payal realized that her hands had dropped to her side. She quickly raised them in a namaste and looked up to greet him in the eye.

He stared right back. His shimmering eyes trapped her, his gaze analytical, as though trying to figure something out. Payal couldn't look anywhere else, she couldn't even blink. Then someone coughed, loudly.

He released her from his stare. Payal looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. This was not fair! How could she be so affected by his stare?

The person who coughed was another man sitting beside Vivaan. He was obviously younger than Vivaan, with dark eyes and dark hair, but dressed similarly. Beside him sat a woman, wearing a modern patterned sari, but with the pallu draped respectfully around her shoulders; with long flowing hair all the way to her waist.

"Hello." Said the man, who was probably Vivaan's cousin. "I'm Aryan,  Vivaan bhai-sa's cousin brother. And this is my wife, Avika" He said. Payal greeted them with a smile.

"And this" continued Aryan, gesturing to the girl on Vivaan's other side, "is our younger sister, Mansi."

Mansi was the most cheerful person in the whole family. She was the only individual apart from Payal's sister-in-law who was not wearing a sari and was wearing a colorful Anarkali suit instead. Her hair was shorter than Avika's reaching mid-back, and styled more tastefully than anyone else's in the room. Her dark brown eyes were filled with mischief as she waved a hi toward Payal. Payal automatically smiled in greeting, choosing to use the same informal greeting as Mansi.

"Well then, now that everyone knows everyone" Payal's father spoke up. "Why don't you sit, Payal?"

And so Payal sat beside her parents on the sofa. She answered the questions of the elders and even participated in the conversation of the younger generation. They were old-fashioned, yes, but they had also kept with the times, that much was evident. The family was much like her in thinking, except that they were very closely knit as a family and happy as a whole. There was no trace of any orthodox thinking, despite the seeming appearances, just willing humbleness and belief in principles. Payal gradually relaxed within the discussion. As they served the starters before lunch, Payal discovered that no one was forbidden to air their views, even if they were opposite to what the elders thought. The family was indeed unique. The only exceptions were Vivaan's grandmother, who stayed quiet and barely contributed; and Vivaan himself, who was staring at Payal most of the time.

It wasn't unabashed, but intense. All through the meal he didn't speak except answer a question directed at him and subtly glanced at Payal when he thought no one was looking at him. Payal carefully avoided his gaze, aware of it, but not wanting a repeat of earlier.

When the plates were cleared, it was time to address the obvious elephant in the room.

"Ah, it appears that the children might want to talk to one another for some time." Said Payal's father, a little hesitantly. And that was all it took for her heart to run a relay race. Just the thought of being alone with him filled Payal with anxiety. What should she talk to him about? How was this meeting supposed to proceed?

"Of course." Said Mr. Mehta. "Vivaan, Payal, why don't you both go out for a walk?" he asked.

"Yes, that's a good idea." Said Payal's father. "Payal, you can show him the park that recently opened up here."

Payal took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She looked at him then, and found him looking at his father. His father nodded encouragingly.

Vivaan then looked at her. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice a deep baritone.

Payal nodded, slowly getting up and following him to the door.

What would she ask him?

Glossary:

Kurti - a type of top worn over leggings or jeans.

Paratha - an Indian bread. Commonly eaten as part of meals by majority Indians.

Belan - a rolling pin, used to roll out the dough into shape.

Tawa - a vessel used to make flat breads.

Beta - an endearment used to address the child. Unisex term.

Chutney - a type of sauce/curry. Eaten as accompaniment with a choice of bread.

Ma - mother.

Papa - father.

Matar Paneer  - a dish commonly eaten in India.

Kaka - uncle.

Sari - a style of clothing worn usually by Indian women. It is a single piece of decorated/embroidered cloth, draped around the body.

Pallu - the end of a Sari. It is usually heavily decorated/embroidered and is often worn in a way to be seen and admired. Different draping styles require the pallu to be draped differently.

Bhai - brother. a term used to address both the biological brother, as well as another man affectionately.

Namaste - a salute. Form of greeting in India.

The suffix -sa - Traditional Marwari families sometimes use a suffix "sa" at the end, as a form of respect, while addressing an elder or another person of repute.