The Taste of Ginger(89)
Virag Mama wagged his finger. “Not arranged. We do not approve of this.” He swept his arm wide around the room. “Any of this.”
Tushar whispered to me, “Do not confuse your past with your future. Think about what I said. I’m willing to take the risk if you are.” Then, louder, he called out, “We are leaving.”
He ushered his parents out the door and, before closing it behind him, cast me a small smile. One that had the hope and possibility of a life I had never before wanted and had never even considered. A life that was not part of my plan, my mother’s plan, or anyone else’s.
41
The next morning, I texted Tushar and asked him to meet me at Happy Snaps before it opened so we could talk. I had spent the night talking to Carrie about his proposal, and then when she had fallen asleep, I had stared at the ceiling thinking some more about it. He was asking me to do what my parents had done, Virag Mama and Indira Mami, their parents before them, Biren. What would have seemed completely crazy a couple months ago seemed less so now. I understood better that a Hollywood romance wasn’t the only path to marriage or even happiness. There were many paths, and it was a matter of choice.
When I opened the door to Happy Snaps and heard the familiar chimes, I realized how much this place, and Tushar, had given me. Tushar was behind the counter, bags under his eyes, and I knew he had not slept either.
“Hi,” I said, shy for the first time around him.
“Hi,” he said, running his fingers through his hair nervously.
“How were your parents?” I said.
He shook his head. “As expected.”
I nodded, making my way toward him. “What you did yesterday . . .”
He met my gaze, his eyes searching mine.
“It was really brave,” I said. “I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “You would fight the same for something you want, no?”
I nodded. “I’ve spent my whole life fighting for the things I want. The truth is that fighting all the time is exhausting.” I went closer to him, until we were just a couple feet apart from each other. “I don’t want you to have to go through that.”
His face fell as he realized what my answer was.
“Tushar, you have taught me so much about myself in these weeks we have spent together. And I have loved getting to know you. But what I’ve learned most is that I’m still trying to figure out who I am and what I want. You’ve already done that work, and it’s not fair of me to pull you along while I go through this process.”
“But that’s what the marriage is for, no? A partner to help you with those things?”
I smiled at him wistfully. “Some things need to be done on my own. I don’t know if I can give up the type of love I grew up dreaming about. That part of me is still very Western. It might change—I’ve seen how differently people think about marriage here—but it also might not. If we lived in a different time and place, maybe we would date and see how we feel about each other after a year. But we don’t. And that is not possible. For me, if we get to know each other after getting engaged, and if it isn’t what I want, I don’t think I can go through with it out of a sense of duty or familial love. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And a broken engagement will have a more lasting impact on you than it will for me. I can go back to Los Angeles and pretend it never happened. But you . . . this is your home. I cannot be responsible for taking that away from you.”
“You don’t think you can love me that way?” he asked.
My eyes glistened. “I don’t know. But I’m not ready to agree to marry someone before I know if I am in love with him. And that’s just not the order in which things are done here. You shouldn’t have to change for me.”
He let my words sink in. “So, your answer is no.”
Softly, I said, “It has to be. If I don’t know who I am yet, then there’s no way you could know who you are marrying.”
We weren’t together, and had never dated, but it was a breakup all the same. Emotions had been on the line. For him, more than they ever had before.
“So, that’s it now? You will go back home?”
That was another thing I had thought about while lying awake last night. My time in India wasn’t done yet. I needed to understand India today and continue to update the memories I had from my youth. I couldn’t escape the parts of me that were Indian any more than I could the parts of me that were American, and I needed to be in India to find those missing pieces.
“I’m actually going to stay a little while longer after my family leaves.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“Anand Uncle has been asking me to help him with the foundation. He needs an American lawyer, and I think it would be good for me to do some legal work that is meaningful and see how that feels.”
“How long will you stay?” he said.
“I’m not sure, but at least a few months. Certainly through Biren’s wedding so I can help him with anything he needs. I don’t think India will be my permanent home, but I’d like to understand that part of myself better before I go back. And it sounds like the work with Anand Uncle can be done from both places, so I can be trained here and then continue it when I go back. Working a job with reasonable hours will also give me the chance to continue with photography. I want to do more with everything I’ve learned from you.”