MARRY ME, MARRY ME, MARRY ME. . .
Our deepest instinct tells us that joys are increased and pains diminished when we meet them two by two. . .like geese, like penguins we seem to be pair-bonding creatures. it takes four wings for us to fly.\” – Erica Jong
My friend who has two daughters in successful marriages gives me dating advice for my niece who at age 24, is considered of \’marriageable age\”. My friend is Gujarati but an emancipated one because one of her daughters is married to a Punjabi boy. Nearly two years into the marriage, the couple couldn\’t be happier, she says.
\”I tell all my Gujju friends, \’let your daughters dare men of all ethnicities. How else will they decide who they want to settle down with?\’ \”
My (mis)adventure in a convertible!
Growing up middle class in New Delhi, I lived on a diet of old-time Hollywood movies and English magazines borrowed from the bookstore in the alleyway down my house at 12 Rajouri Garden Lane. The dim-lit bookstore, barely bigger than the 500-feet walk-in closet I now call my own had wire-strung Hindi dailies, romance novels […]
DANCING…
In the first year of my marriage I discovered my husband, the dancer. It was an arranged marriage; hastily hatched over cups of tea and samosas in a family friend\’s drawing room—so we were still discovering facets of each other hitherto unknown.