Day one

It was stragely familiar yet vastly different. My first day in a south Indian household allowed me a sneak peek into a different culture. The decor of the drawing room seemed to have jumped out of some R.K Narayan novel. The room was adorned with many photogaraphs and idols of dieties. All of them, almost all, were known to me. The difference was that they now looked more tamillian with heavy necks and godesses wore nose pins on the right. There was a south Indian air about the house. The way elderly talked and joked in tamil, the way coffee was relished instead of tea. The threshold of the house bore a plastic sticker of a rangoli pattern. The way some of my prospective south indian relatives drank water from small glasses with turned brim. I drank water and then I remembered the custom of not touching the glass with one's mouth. Anyway, the deed was done and nobody seemed to notice.

Soon, Gayatri opened up her bridal trousseau and displayed the silk sarees she had purchased from Kumaran after much debate and deliberation between groups of uncles and aunties. Some jokes were shared about funny usage of tamil by some urbane cousin. Poor chap! atleast he knew something. May be he was a little like me, confusing Perima with Terima.