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The Matchmakers

“I don’t want to listen to another word,” shouted Anju. “I just won’t do it.” She covered her ears with both her hands and ran into our room.
“Get out, Priya,” she ordered.
“I want to be alone.” I reluctantly got up from the bed and walked out of the room wishing I didn’t have such a bossy sister.
“I don’t know what to do with this girl!” Amma was saying unhappily. “She refuses to even see the boy. This is such a good proposal. And the boy lives so close-by, at Kailash Apartments, two roads away.
He is very well-qualified and works in the US. The horoscopes too match perfectly…”
But Anju was nowhere to be seen.
My father sighed, “In our times, our parents never even asked for our opinion. These days, we give our children so much freedom and then they get all sorts of ideas in their heads.”
It was the usual marriage discussion. Normally, I never pay any attention to these things but Amma had mentioned Kailash Apartments’. And that was where my best friend Kavita lived. Maybe she would know who this potential brother-in-law might be.
The problem with Anju, according to our parents, was that she had read too many Mills & Boon novels. Her head was in the clouds most of the time, and she dreamt of a rich, handsome Prince Charming who’d sweep her off her feet.
“If I marry,” she had declared, “it will be to a man I love. I can’t be paraded like a goat or buffalo and sold off to someone I don’t even know.” She had made it sound terrible and I secretly sympathised with her.
But Anju was becoming very difficult to live with, because of her mood swings. If she got married, I would also have the room to myself, I would think often. Of course, she was my only sister and I want her
to live happily ever after as well.
Kavita had come home the next day and I told her about the latest ‘boy’.
“My building is full of old people,” she said thoughtfully. “There is nobody eligible for marriage.”
“I heard he works in the US,”
I added.
“It must be Ashok,” said Kavita suddenly.
“Who is this Ashok?” I asked.
“Didn’t I tell you? He is my cousin who has been staying with us for the past two weeks. He is waiting for his visa. And I heard someone mention the name Anjana…”
We were both excited. It seemed like a great idea. If Anju got married to Ashok, Kavita and I would be related. We would spend our vacations together. We could even visit Anju in the US and go to Disneyland together!
We had already decided that this was the best match for Anju. But how were we to make this happen?
Kavita had reported that even her cousin Ashok was unwilling to get married. He was not at all interested in seeing any potential matches and her aunt was scared he would come back with an American wife.
“No,” I said firmly. “He has to marry Anju. It is up to us to see everything works out.”
“How?” Kavita asked, anxiously, “Your sister is not going to get married just so that we can go to Disneyland together.” I agreed.
We decided that they had to fall in love. It happened all the time in movies and books. Anju and Ashok just needed some help.
We drew up a plan of action. We had to get them to meet first. This required some careful planning from our side. We had decided that the first meeting had to be dramatic to create a lasting impact. I would stay back late and call up Anju to escort me back home. I was for once thankful for Amma’s stern instruction that I shouldn’t walk home alone after dark.
The opportunity arrived three days later, and we had set the scene. Kavita and I were huddled in her room and Ashok was watching TV in the sitting room. The bell rang. Anju had arrived promptly at 7.45 p.m. Of course, Ashok had to open the main door. Kavita and I peeped from behind the partially open door to her room. Anju was quite surprised to see a stranger open the door.
“Is Kavita around…”, she spluttered.
“Please come in,” he said with ease, “She is inside”. He called Kavita. We pretended not to have heard anything. They needed some more time. I hoped Anju would make brilliant conversation and dazzle him with her smile and wit. But she just stood there looking quite dazed.
“Please sit down,” he said. “They should be here any minute.”
Anju stared at her nails while Ashok walked across the room looking for us. It was time to make an entrance. Kavita and I barged out of the room. It didn’t help that we started giggling the moment we saw them. Anju stood up and quite curtly announced it was time to make a move. There was no time for introductions; she almost dragged me out of the house scolding me for staying back so long.
So, did anything happen at all during that brief instant, I wondered. It certainly did not look like love at first sight.
“Who is he, Priya?” Anju asked me, casually on the way home. Great, I thought, there must have been some impact!
I gave her all the details. “He is very nice,” I added.

But that was it. There were no more questions from Anju. Actually, Anju is known to be quite an introvert. All our relatives say I am the noisy one, who talks back to elders and keeps getting into trouble. Anju is the quiet, good sister who is only bossy towards me. Getting Anju to take any kind of initiative in this venture seemed next to impossible. What gave me hope was she blushed every time I mentioned Ashok’s name. After three days, I realised that Ashok too was not going to make a move, although Kavita mentioned that he had inquired after Anju. I was sure they liked, if not loved each other at first sight.
Now was the time to marshal our resources. We turned to some of Amma’s old magazines. Anju had once read out some letter from some girl asking about the best way to get rid of pimples; we thought there might be something about love as well.
“Listen to this,” said Kavita, reading out, “Find out his likes and dislikes and try to strike up a conversation regarding his favourite hobbies. This will make him interested in you and he will see you as an ideal partner.”
“It is worth trying, but how will they know each other’s likes and dislikes?”
“From us, of course,” said Kavita impatiently. “We’ll draw up a list.”
After some extensive research, we sat down to compare our findings. Ashok played cricket and tennis; Anju wrote poetry. He read the occasional thriller, she avidly devoured romantic novels. She loved Chinese food, he loved tandoori.
She listened to classical music, he was a hard rock fan; her favourite movie was Pretty Woman, his was
The Terminator.
“It’s hopeless,” moaned Kavita.
“I don’t see any possibility of their tying the knot!”
I was rather optimistic. “Opposites attract,” I reminded Kavita. “They just have to start getting interested in what the other person likes.”
We decided that I would start off by getting Anju to watch Star Sports and Kavita would try to get Ashok to start reading poetry so they would have something to discuss the next time they met.
“Ashok plays tennis very well,”
I remarked, while Anju and I were fighting for the remote that evening. I had insisted on watching the US Open and Anju wanted to see one of her favourite cookery shows. “His favourite player is Federer,”
I declared. “He is playing now.”
“So what?” retorted Anju. “I don’t like watching this boring game.”
“But, Anju, it’s very exciting. Ashok said so.”
Anju sat through one game and kept asking me ‘What happened?’ and ‘Why are they clapping?’ Well, at least she was trying to learn.
Kavita reported that she had some success in getting him to listen to her reciting some poetry. It was time for the second meeting.
After much cajoling and crying, we managed to get our charges to escort us to see a film. I had to insist that my whole life would be wasted if I wasn’t able to watch Fantastic Beasts. We would meet ‘accidentally’ at the ticket counter and would buy our tickets together. It was a good idea. Anju and Ashok looked delighted to see each other.
“What a pleasant surprise!” Ashok exclaimed. Anju simpered.
When we came out to buy popcorn during the interval, Anju and Ashok had already struck up a conversation.
“Did you watch the tennis match yesterday?” inquired Ashok.
“It was really exciting… and I am a big fan of Federer…” said Anju enthusiastically.
They actually seemed pretty friendly and completely ignored Kavita and me. Not that we minded. Before we went back into the theatre, I actually heard Ashok exclaim, “She was a phantom of delight,” much to Anju’s delight.
It worked!
This was very encouraging and Kavita and I kept dropping those vital words and phrases to Anju and Ashok. Strangely, Anju never seemed to tire of listening to anything I said about Ashok. She looked cheerful and went about the house humming her favourite filmi tunes. Two more accidental meetings on the road went off very well and we were quite sure that they had fallen in love. I had even seen Anju get startled when I caught her speaking on the phone once, late into the night. She snapped, “Why do you want to know?” when I asked her about it, but flushed guiltily and turned away.
It was two weeks since we had commenced our campaign and we were satisfied with the progress. But somehow, nothing concrete seemed to be happening. Well, Kavita and I had got them quite far, surely, one of them would ‘pop the question’ soon. Meanwhile, Amma was getting more and more frantic and Anju was getting more vehement in her denial. Add to that, Ashok’s visa had come through. He was due to leave in two weeks.
“Why can’t they say something to each other?” asked Kavita desperately.
“Maybe they are not yet sure of each other’s feelings.” By now, Kavita and I seemed to have become experts on the subject of romance, thanks to all the novels we had researched. “Maybe, she is in love with someone else, maybe he has a terrible disease and does not want to burden her…” There were after all so many things we had not considered.

It was Sunday morning and our parents were making attempts to get an okay from Anju on the proposal. I was definitely curious this time. I hung around trying to see the pictures of prospective grooms my father held in his hand.
“I’d rather remain unmarried all my life,” Anju declared, shutting her ears again.
“At least look at this photo, even if you won’t meet him. Such a smart boy,” Appa insisted.
“We can go across to Kailash Apartments today, if you say yes.”
Suddenly, I was more than curious. My parents had not given up on the ‘good proposal’ yet.
I snatched the photo out of my father’s hand. It was Ashok, in a casual pose, looking away from the camera. He obviously didn’t know that this picture would be used to ‘bride-hunt’.
“Hey,” I said loudly, “He looks just like Kavita’s brother Ashok.”
That got Anju’s attention. She stopped on the way as she was marching off to the room.
“His name is Ashok,” my mother butted in. “He is going to the
US in a couple of weeks… A very well-qualified boy, also plays state level tennis…”
“Oh,” murmured Anju. She glanced at the photo just to make sure that it was really him.
“Anju, there is a very auspicious date next week. We all want a simple wedding only,” Amma and Appa said hopefully. This was the first time Anju had actually listened.
Anju shrugged her shoulders. “I give up,” she said, unconvincingly. “Do whatever you want.” Her face was averted, but I could visualise a secret smile playing about her lips.
After that, the elders took care of it all. Ashok made no protest when he was told of the news. Kavita told me that he in fact looked gleeful when shown Anju’s picture.

The wedding was held a week later. Kavita and I wore Kanjeevaram sarees for the first time and bustled about importantly.
“Was it a love marriage?” asked Anju’s friends.
She blushed and murmured, “A whirlwind romance.”
Amma confided to a close relative, “I am so glad we got such a good proposal for Anju. At last, she did agree to an arranged marriage!”
Kavita and I smiled at each other—only we knew the truth.

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