Marriages Are Made In India

By Lakshmi Raj Sharma

Travel to India from the comfort of your ebook with this delightful collection of stories. Mr. Sharma’s stories combine subtle humor with deep empathy for the human condition, where his rich cast of characters rarely get what they seek but push forward as they necessarily must. Witty, fun, and full of the wonderful imagery of India, these stories are sure to entertain and inform readers looking to escape via the literary imagination of a master storyteller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9780985050443

Book preview

me.

A Passage to Sri Lanka

I can hardly believe now that I had accompanied Vikram Parmar to Sri Lanka. Nor would you. I would normally never have taken the risk, but Vikram possessed the art of drawing you out. A trip with Vikram even up to the Civil Lines of our town, Allahabad, was not free from danger. And I had had the misfortune of going to another country with him. But then we were in a university hostel, and examinations were just over. We had to do something to revive ourselves.

I often wonder why Vikram had chosen me for the horrendous trip. Perhaps because he had already annoyed most of our batchmates by making them the butt of his very unusual practical jokes. I can never forget that tug-of-war scene when Vikram and Shantanu were pulling each other’s … and how Shantanu had yelled out for help in agony. The only reason that Vikram had given me for this rather odd behavior was that Shantanu had refused to let him drink up his tonic. Other batchmates were annoyed with Vikram for other reasons. A common one was that he often changed the settings of their alarm clocks and hence made it difficult for them to wake up at the desired time. Tarun Chaturvedi couldn’t tolerate Vikram because of the manner in which he pronounced Tarun’s surname, making Chatur sound like the Hindi equivalent of bum.

Vikram came to my room that morning with a sheepish face, half expecting that I would turn down his offer. He wore nothing above his shorts and I noticed that his chest didn’t have a single hair on it. It was this that had made me coin the simile, As spick and span as Parmar’s chest.

Yes? I enquired.

I know, he said, that I’ve come to a person who’ll reject my proposal. And yet there’s an iota of hope in my heart. You’re the only one who just might agree.

Sit down, I said, and tell me what trick you’re up to this time.

Come on Anoop! You know you are the one person I can never trick or joke around with. For some reason, you’re the one I’ve always wanted to be good to. You’re not like the rest.

Why? I inquired anxiously. What’s so different about me?

When everyone else is annoyed with me, yours is the only room I can enter. You’re so loving!

All right, all right, I said trying to stop him from coming too close. Out with your business. Do you need some money?

You take some from me, Anoop. Have I ever asked you for money? You ought to know that I have enough in the bank to purchase a bungalow.

I suddenly remembered that his parents had died, leaving him a great deal of wealth. I changed the topic lest he become maudlin about his misfortunes.

Like some tea? I asked.

Anoop, you make the tea while I tell you about the most wonderful adventure we are heading for.

I began to make the tea with my ears wide open. I was worried that I was moving towards some embarrassing situation or the other.

Yaar, my limbs feel rusted after the exams. My soul craves for an adventure and this time you’ll be my partner-in-greatness.

I see Don Quixote needs a Sancho Panza, I said, little realizing that my words would soon come true.

Call me what you will, but don’t say no.

I don’t know why I decided to take the risk without knowing what the entire thing was about. I never made that kind of mistake either before or after that. Was it because I had started imagining that I was growing into a mollycoddle and had to prove that no such thing was happening to me?

I promise, I said.

Then we’re off to Ceylon. I’ll be an Indian prince from Ranipur State and you’ll be my private secretary. We’ll fly to Colombo.

It took me some time to finally accept his proposal. My first reaction was to go back on my word. But then he used all his skills of persuasion. (If you saw him persuading me you’d think there was something gay about our relationship.) Besides, he even had a logical point to convince me with.

Anoop, you’re a stage actor but you actually don’t have any faith in drama. When you have to act out a part in real life you’re gone. This is where I never fail and you theatre people always do. Isn’t acting on stage a pointless sham?

Okay, suppose we go to Sri Lanka, as Prince and Secretary, what do we gain?

There’s a thrill in such an impersonation. We read so much crime fiction and see films where all this happens. Don’t you admire the hero for his daring? I assure you the world would love you for it.

Whether the world loved me for it or not, I had decided that I’d plunge into this unique experience. I had always been correct to the point of a fault, and perhaps this was the reason why I had never been in the limelight.

Done, I said shaking hands with the Prince who seemed amazed at my decision. He got up and hugged me tightly. We sat on my bed and decided the date and other details.

My other batchmates warned me of the disaster I was heading for. But I had sealed myself off from all good advice. I began to believe that it was only their jealousy (due to my free trip) that made them talk thus.

In accordance with Vikram’s plans I wrote to my parents that I’d be reaching home ten days later, for vacation, as I was accompanying a friend to his farm. Without waiting for the reply, we flew off to Sri Lanka.

Whatever Vikram may have been, he was large-hearted. He took me to the five-star Viceroy Hotel. I had never known such luxury. We had a suite of rooms to ourselves. I was beginning to fear that Vikram was planning to make this a kind of honeymoon trip with me. He was capable of anything. But fortunately that never occurred to him. He had more ambitious schemes in mind. The manager and staff of the hotel were taking pains to keep His Royal Highness, and the Secretary, comfortable. Vikram never forgot to point out to them, at every step, that their hotel was not good enough. From his complaints you’d think he was living in a cowshed. The manager was at his wit’s end trying to make amends for whatever was unsatisfactory. Due to Vikram’s fastidious behavior, we got a grand treatment at the Viceroy. But for two young men of our age was that luxury sufficient in itself? Certainly not. It only made us, particularly Vikram, conscious that our lives needed romance.

Fortune seemed to smile on Vikram when during dinner, in the dazzling Victoria Dining Hall, the manager made the following announcement:

Ladies and gentlemen. We have amidst us, this evening, a very distinguished personality. I feel honored in introducing to you a prince from India, His Royal Highness, Vikram Parmar of Ranipur State. At that moment the orchestra resounded with, He’s a jolly good fellow, and the other guests gave Vikram a big hand.

Winking at me, Vikram gave a wicked smile, which I only half returned. I feared that we were getting a little more attention than was ideal for us. Just then, people got up to dance and Vikram looked around for a partner. I couldn’t show any such desire because my only business was to attend to His Royal Highness. Then, Vikram and I noticed that a stunningly beautiful girl was looking towards us in a meaningful way. Vikram smiled at her and she immediately returned the smile. Vikram took the second step forward. He lifted his hand towards his forehead as a raja would to salute a superior. The girl made an inviting gesture. Vikram got up smartly and, forgetting my existence, sailed across towards her table. I could see that the next step would be the beginning of a dance, which it was. I didn’t know that Vikram could dance so well. They seemed to be the only ones on the floor. Vikram forgot everyone else apart from his Sri Lankan beauty. I tried to enjoy the scene for some time, but being a mere spectator could be tiring. Real drama proved to be so much like stage drama. It was aimed only to promote the hero. The others were there just to help the situation to boil to a crisis.

I began to think of India, our hostel, and my parents. I wondered how my parents would have reacted if they got to know of my new role. But, then, my earlier uneventful existence had needed this change. Till when could I lag behind? Perhaps in our next adventure I’d be the prince and he my secretary. No, I corrected myself, Vikram was not the type who’d play second fiddle. So long as I was with him, I had to dance to his tunes. It was wiser to return to my previous detached relationship with him. Such a friend was bound to put you to some loss or the other in ultimate terms, even if the terms of loss were not financial.

When I came out of my reverie, I found that Vikram was dancing with the girl pressed hard to himself. She seemed to have already become his princess. Was she so gullible, I wondered. Before long a tall man, who was the girl’s father, entered with three or four others. The girl introduced Vikram to him and he seemed pleased with his daughter’s prize catch. There was much hand-shaking and then the girl and the men went out, Vikram following close behind. Vikram returned to me soon after and told me that this girl, Alice, was the daughter of a political leader, named Andrew Goonewardene. Goonewardene was an M.P. with a promising future in the politics of Sri Lanka.

You mustn’t let this affair go any further, I said to Vikram.

This is only the beginning. Now we’ll see Sri Lanka like VIPs, he said, not fearing the consequences.

True enough, the next week passed off in great luxury and excitement. I began to believe that my erstwhile near-ascetic way of life had been quite unavailing. I began to see sense in what Epicurus had preached.

Andrew Goonewardene was truly delighted. Vikram seemed a handsome and befitting match for Alice. He encouraged his daughter to go around with us and introduced Vikram to several distinguished people. He even gave out that his daughter was getting engaged to Vikram, the prince from India. Due to increasing political assassinations and vendetta, it would be safer for members of his family to go out of his country and live safely. And Alice had been a favorite child. This prince was God sent.

All good things must come to an end. Our Sri Lankan pleasures could be no exception. Goonewardene’s political wisdom came to his aid. He contacted someone in India to find out about Vikram and Ranipur State. Goonewardene was informed that there was neither such a state nor such a prince. The prince had turned out to be a picaro. Goonewardene was politically too astute to allow himself to be made an ass. Before we realized what had happened, we found ourselves in jail. It was a real comedown from the five-star hospitality we had received thus far. I felt like pulling out Vikram’s hair. But what was the use. I had decided to accompany Vikram myself; I too was guilty of succumbing to temptation. What would my parents think when they got to know what their son had been up to, or where he was currently residing? It was all so distressing.

The guards outside our cell walked up and down all the time. One of them had a strange habit. He would call Vikram towards himself and slap him hard saying, Prince from India? Ha! Come I’ll give you a royal treatment.

Vikram was not one to swallow all this for too long. He had an idea and it did not take him long to act upon it. He gave the guard a letter for Goonewardene, saying that if Goonewardene didn’t pay heed to the letter he’d be the loser.

Next morning the shrewd Goonewardene arrived at the prison to meet Vikram.

Yes, now what is it that you would tell me? he asked never