Chapter 27

Sharini stares at the pile of clothes slumped on an armchair with a broken handle still held together with yellowing tape. She grabs armfuls of clothes and shoves them into a travel bag, pressing the crumpled fabric into every corner she can reach.

Her mother lifts her eyes from the phone for a brief moment. Her daughter crosses the room in long strides, just like her father, pushing things that are in her way, picking things up, dropping them again.

Then Nirmala looks back at the screen displaying another call that didn’t go through.

A hundred and twelve missed calls.

To the same number.

The same recorded voice response.

She switches to the message app, checking to see if there had been any response to her copy-pasted pleas she had been sending her husband.

“Just tell me where you are, and I won’t call or disturb you.”
14:32

“Just tell me where you are, and I won’t call or disturb you.”
22:01

“Just tell me where you are, and I won’t call or disturb you.”
05:00

“Just tell me where you are, and I won’t call or disturb you.”
18:28

She tries calling him on WhatsApp again. The screen stays stuck on Calling. No profile picture. Messages get delivered with a single grey tick.

Sharini fetches an old plastic juice bottle and fills it with water. She slides it into the side pocket of her shoulder bag.

“Are you packing, my dear?” her grandmother inquires as she stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Sharini ignores the voice and continues picking up some soaps.

“Did your mother tell you what she is going to make for dinner? I don’t think I can eat chapatis. You know, I can’t chew like before, can you buy me some idlis before you leave?”

Sharini just stares at the old lady. She looked at the wrinkles in her face, the hunched back, the trembling hands, and felt nothing but rage.

All she could see was an insensitive old woman who demanded things from her mother. Someone who seemed to have no concern whatsoever for what was happening, or where her own son had disappeared to. Someone who simply expected to be served.

Sharini wondered how God had blessed this woman with her mother as a daughter-in-law.

Nirmala could never not do what this woman wanted.

Even if she saw them for what they were.

Her brain was simply wired to care anyway.

“Naa idli dhaan vaaka poren. Ponga. Poi maathra podunga.” Nirmala bites out the words before Sharini could say anything.

Sharini just stares at her mother in question, but moves on quickly and quietly when the latter just stares back in silence.

She boxes up some of the sweets she had made with her mother and places them with the rest of the luggage.

Sharini then fills her plate with the leftover rice from the afternoon and the unattended vegetables, all that was prepared for a house of four people.

Expecting.

Waiting.

She takes a seat right in front of her mother and starts eating. Nirmala looks up and gently smiles at her daughter. “Let me know if you need anything.”

And then she’s back at her phone again. The robotic lady’s voice keeps echoing in the living room.

“The number you have dialed is currently switched off. Please try again later. Thaangal azhaitha en tharpodhu…”

Sharini swallowed hard. “Amma, can you please stop this nonsense? What do you think you will achieve out of this? You are only giving him exactly what he wants. Your fear.”

Nirmala looks at her daughter with the most vulnerable pained smile. “I understand that Sharini. Trust me, I do. But I can’t stop myself from trying. What do you want me to do? Just sit here simply like nothing? I can’t do that.”

“This is not new, ma. We have been through this enough times for you to realise that he is always going to come back. This man is all bark no bite. After twenty five years of marriage, what makes you still be this gullible and stupid?”

Sharini heard herself speaking and did not stop. She wanted to hurt her mother. To shake her. She wanted to somehow bring some sense into this woman and make her see.

But she knows.

This is their ritual.

This is their cycle.

And she takes another big morsel of the food, loudly chewing, the robotic voice coming back to life in the background.

“Will you come with me?”

“To Chennai?”

“He will come back, Sharini.”

“So what if he does? Do you even like being here, ma?”

“It is not like that. I don’t know how I can tell you. You know your father, right? He isn’t just what he is doing now. He is still a good person, Sharini. I’m trying my best to make him change this one aspect.”

“Do you even hear yourself, ma? Aren’t you tired of this? I am. I am so tired of being this punching wall for the both of you.”

“And just because I am angry with him doesn’t mean I think you’re right.”

“You know how he reacts when you say certain things about certain people.You know very well that nobody can make him see what he doesn’t want to see.”

“He already knows. He just refuses to accept it.”

“And you know that. You can wake someone who is sleeping. You cannot wake someone who is pretending to sleep. You know this. You know all this better than me.”

“Then why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep digging on the same wound? What do you even get from this? Why do you keep saying things that you know will trigger him?”

Nirmala just tsks, sighing in resignation. “You think I’m not trying? For the whole day I kept my mouth shut. Why is it that he is never going to accept this one simple fact about his family in his life, but it is me who should shut up? It is not like he doesn’t see it. But why is it so difficult to listen to his own wife for once? One day you’ll understand. You have already packed, right? You do what you have to do.”

Sharini just stares at her mother for a long minute.

Her bus leaves in an hour.

She has to go.

Whatever happens next would have to happen without her.

“Vaanga vaanga. Please come inside. Ulla vaa ma. Please take a seat. Enga, andha chair eduthutu vaanga.” Regina taps her husband’s shoulder while welcoming the guests with a wide smile.

Samuel merely glances at Stephen, passing the task along while remaining beside her at the doorway.

A grey-haired man in his early fifties, about as tall as her husband, removes his slippers outside the door before stepping in.

A short and stout woman follows him, her eyes immediately scanning the living room from corner to corner.

The cobwebs around an old pendulum on the wall.

A family photo with six smiling faces.

The government television on a wooden stand.

The cracks spreading on the walls, the chipped paint.

Finally, they land on the old woman sitting on the floor with a Bible in her hand.

She forces a smile out when their eyes meet, before turning her attention to the boy that brought out a chair for her.

A younger woman entered carrying a bag of fruits, greeting everyone with an easy smile.

The wooden teapoy held the good dabara tumblers brimming with hot coffee, covered in little bubbles of froth. There were also three ceramic plates filled with kaju katli, fresh bajjis, and some chips. Regina and Stephen offered to help their guests to the plates, while Samuel took a seat on the edge of the cot facing them.

“So, I believe Jancy already told you about our family, or at least about my wife, Regina. They are very good friends. I’m Samuel, I work in the electricity department.”He gestures around the room. “My mother-in-law, Philomina. My son, Stephen. He’s going to give his +2 exams this year.”

“My daughter, Sheetal, works in Hello FM, Chennai. She comes home once or twice a month. She’s currently busy with some festival work. To be honest, this came as a surprise for me too. Regina just told me today. Otherwise we would have called her.”

“That’s okay, we didn’t have a chance to tell my son either. More than anyone, Jancy is the most excited it seems. She kept calling my wife all morning, practically forcing us to come here. What can I say? It is the ladies that decide, isn’t it?”, the man laughs, “by the way, my name is Joseph Arulraj. I just retired a few months ago, I was working in the cooperative bank. My wife, Roseline, told us that she remembers seeing your daughter at the church a few times.”

“Ah, good, good.”

“Yeah. This is my daughter, Lydia. Even in our home, our daughter is the eldest.” Arulraj smiles proudly at his daughter, who returns his smile meeting his eyes. “Enga kudumbathula mudhal doctor iva. (She’s the first doctor in our family).”

“She worked so hard to be here. She works in the GH. General physician.”

Roseline continues from where her husband left, “MBBS merit laye government college la mudicha. Engaluku selavu vekkala.”

“In fact, she started supporting the family when David was still studying.” Arulraj pats his daughter’s hands gently.

Samuel pipes in, “That’s commendable. Our daughter also studied very well. She was always first in Tamil and English. She has participated in many debates, recitals, writing competitions….”, he turns and points to the shelf behind him, displaying all the awards, medals and certificates with Sheetal’s name, “All those are hers.”

Regina looked at Samuel.

She could not remember the last time she had heard him speak about Sheetal with such pride.

For years every conversation about their daughter had ended in argument.

Now he sat there displaying her certificates to strangers.

“She landed her dream job all on her own. She recently got a promotion.”

“Not just that, she also cooks well. She’s been living in Chennai on her own with her friend.”

“Enga pakkathu flat la Sharini nu oru ponnu, anga teacher ah work panra. Avanga rendu per dhaan apartment rent ku eduthu thangi irukaanga.”

The conversation drifted from one topic to another as the plates slowly emptied.

“You mentioned David works in a hospital too, right?” Samuel prompts, and Lydia is quick to fill in.

“Yes uncle. David works in administration. He’s been there almost six years now. He actually wanted to study physiotherapy, but after college he joined the hospital and ended up liking administrative work. He’s even started looking for an apartment near his workplace.”

Regina asks, “Chennai la dhaane work panraaru?”

“Yes. Sarvam Hospitals, Chrompet.”

Samuel nods.

“Hospital work na pressure irukume?”

“It is. But I think it suits him. He mostly works with staff coordination, patient relations, schedules, those kinds of things. And he has a lot of patience.”

“Romba sandhosham. Un husband enna ma panraanga?” Regina asks Lydia, refilling some tumblers with water and finally taking a seat beside Samuel.

“I’m not married, Aunty.”

“Oh…”, Regina blinks in confusion as she instinctively turns to Lydia’s parents, Arulraj clears his throat, but Roseline does not seem fazed by the question.

“We told her many times to get married. She keeps saying later.” Arulraj’s cheerful tone deflates slightly.

“Let her decide for herself. She is taking care of herself right now.” Roseline presses her hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder.

“I thought I would marry someone. It didn’t happen.”

There was silence in the room.

“My parents know everything. I decided not to rush into another marriage decision.”

Samuel’s eyebrows shot up for a moment before he could compose his expressions. Regina also didn’t know what to say. They were not expecting something like that.

Lydia straightened up in her seat a little. “I have already discussed all of this with my family.” She smiled. “David doesn’t have to worry about me. He’s very clear about what he wants, and he trusts our parents to help him find the right person.”

Samuel then looks at Arulraj. “Neenga enna edhir paakareenga?”

“We don’t have any expectations, sir. You can do whatever you wish for your daughter.”

Roseline chimes in. “People from this generation are not like us. They know what they want. We can discuss all these, but I think maybe we should have the children speak to each other for some time before deciding anything.”

Regina looks at her son and Stephen rushes to scribble down his sister’s phone number on a piece of paper.

He hands it over to Lydia, while Roseline jokes. “Solrene thavira, David persaradhe romba kammi.”

“Adhellam neenga kavala padaadheenga aunty. Enga akka rendu perukum serthu pesuva.”

Everyone laughs.

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Author’s Note:

It has been four years since I started writing A Tamil Lesbian Wedding.

This story began as a very short and somewhat funny dream that I had one random day. I honestly thought it would become a single chapter, maybe two, and then quietly disappear into the many unfinished ideas sitting inside this app.

If somebody had told me back then that I would still be writing these two girls years later, I probably would not have believed them.

I have tried writing other stories during this time. More planned stories. More fictional stories. Stories with proper plots and outlines and dramatic twists. But for some reason, I could never stay with them.

This story is not easy for me to write either. There are months when I write nothing. Sometimes only one chapter appears in several months. Sometimes I don’t know where the story is going until the chapter is already written.

The truth is, I have almost nothing plotted.

These characters somehow write themselves.

I don’t know what Sharini will say until she says it. I don’t know what Sheetal is planning until she decides to do it. I don’t know which characters will become important later and which ones will simply pass through their lives.

I only sit down and listen.

Somehow, over these years, these two girls have grown very close to me. I want to see them become happy just as much as many of you do.

I started writing this story during Pride Month.

It feels fitting that Chapter 26 is also being published during Pride Month, as a small thank you to everyone who has patiently stayed here despite my very inconsistent writing schedule.

You have read, voted, commented, waited, and returned, often with far more consistency than the author myself.

Thank you for that.

And thank you for continuing to believe in Sheetal and Sharini.

I still don’t know exactly where they are going.

But I think they do.