Page 14 of Knot So Romantic

“Do you have a boy you’re interested in?” Dad laughs, serving another large dollop of aam ras into his bowl, while Mom eyes him to limit his sugar intake.

“As though she’s going to have time to like a boy with her head buried in designs she keeps working on and never leaving her boutique. He’s not going to appear out of thin air,” Mom scoffs.

“Maybe you should date,” Dad says, and I let out a snort. “I would have loved to date your mother if only her parents would let me anywhere near their house. Parents were so strict back in those days.”

It’s not that I haven’t dated in the past or considered settling down. But I’ve had no time with my focus on my business these last few years, and eligible bachelors are hard to meet.

“She makes lovely dresses for people getting married. Where is she going to meet anyone to date?” Mom asks vehemently.

“If you don’t like using matrimonial services, then go for...what do they call it? Dating apps?” Dad chuckles.

“Those are generally more for hookups,” I tell him. “Not if you’re interested in an actual relationship.”

“Hookups! Wow! What’s that?” Dad’s eyes go wide at the unfamiliar term.

I stifle a giggle as Mom frowns at him.

“Forget hookups and all that! Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good. That’s why we have matrimonial services,” Mom insists. “When both parties are ready to settle down properly.”

“Maybe I’m just not ready to settle down yet,” I consider out loud. “And I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I don’t want my age to dictate when I have to settle down. I want to take my time.”

Mom places another hot, fluffy puri onto my plate and ladles a generous serving of aam ras into my bowl. Beaming, she says, “But you know what’s even better than the matrimonial services.”

“What?” I ask around a mouthful.

“Word of mouth.”

“Yes, yes,” Dad concurs. “That’s the best way to find a man if you haven’t found one already.”

I frown at Dad. He’s supposed to be on my side. I give him a pleading look to stop making matters worse.

“When I was your age, I was already a mother,” Mom says.

I’ve heard that a million times!

After lunch, she brings out the latest photographs of eligible bachelors she’s collected and spreads them out on the table. “Here, like any of them? Look at this one.” She rattles off a few names and qualifications. Engineer, Doctor, Accountant, and so on.

I scan through them cursorily and push them aside. “I don’t like any of them.”

Mom huffs as she gathers them up. “None?”

Finally, as I’m at the door, ready to leave, she says, “Then maybe at the Dandiya dance night this year, you’ll meet some new boys.”

She looks so hopeful, and once again, I feel a pinch in my heart. I know my mother is just concerned. I get it.

“Wear something nice for it,” Mom instructs. “All the other mothers will be eyeing you too. Right, Moorthy?” she asks Dad.

“You’re right, Shalu.” Dad gazes at my mother with adoring eyes. “Our daughter will meet the right man.”

My eyes mist over as I watch my parents smile at each other, love shining in their eyes even after all these years.

I want what they have.

I want to meet the right man.

I want to be in love.

But it just feels so damn impossible!