75. DESI PSYCHIC cont.

As silence fills the space between New York and Bangalore, I remember how close I came to settling.

And it scares me.

Would I really have married someone, anyone just to put my parents out of their misery? So my parents no longer carried the scarlet letter of “S” for spinster on their desi foreheads? So they were no longer burdened with an unmarried desi daughter rotting away in their metaphorical basement? Would I have married without love and lived miserably, just to register for Waterford Crystal (that I don’t even like) and then subsequently have the right to say “I am married.”

Thank God for the goddess Durga’s (Post 39)  divine intervention. If I can’t or don’t get out of a bad relationship due to blind lust on my part or asshole tendencies on his, she intervenes. When the PETA wielding, vegetarian Cat Boy ((Post 5) suddenly developed an issue to my carnivore ways, Durga removed him from my life. Or emotionally stunned Kehar Singh (Post 4),  who I was so attracted to that I would have engaged in criminal activity to please him (I am not joking). Durga must be the one who sent Kehar Singh on a two-month walk and me to India. The jury is out on what is Kehar Singh’s issue was. However, I think the problem with Cat Boy was his insecurity. He claimed to enjoy my intelligence and independent spirit. But once in a relationship he wanted me to change, to fit his mold of a desi wife. But it’s not possible to control a control freak.

So now that I am enjoying this blossoming Reindeer relationship, my cousin says, “This is what I need you to. Date at least five men at all times.” Okaaaaay, she is not raining on my parade, she is hurling a hurricane at me. “I can’t do that,” I reply sternly. “Why not? Men do it. I am sure Reindeer is dating two other women at least,” she rebuts. This is when I realize it is not possible to explain the za za zoom Reindeer feeling I have, to a woman who was arranged to her husband. So I try the rational approach. “I really don’t think he has the time to date several women as he travels five days a week.” “I see,” she says.

Then I say, “And I want to treat others the way I want to be treated.” “Now you’re just naïve. I’m going to the website and review profiles. I’ll send some for you to contact tomorrow,” she says and hangs-up.

See. I’m psychic. I knew something, someone, would deflate my Reindeer high.