Saaru chuckled delicately.
"What's so amusing?" asked Dad.
"The newspaper has given our bit in the matrimonial columns some prominence."
"You did not ask for highlighting, did you?"
"No, but to be the first item in a list extending to six pages is something isn't?" She handed him the supplement that in the Sunday issue was a thick wad of sheets.
He read in silence. It was not pleasant reading.
'Chennai based 23-year-old software engineer with infantile uterus seeks a groom. Widowers or divorcees with children no bar. Reply to P.O. etc.'
He then flipped through the pages. He wanted to divert his mind away from the sadness brought on by the wording of the notice.
"Funny country ours Saaru. Parents of Tamil boys and girls want Tamil speaking spouses for their children, and the same for Telugus and Malayalees, and every one of the dozen linguistic groups. Religion is next: Hindus, Christians, and Muslims do not want any mixing of religion. Finally comes caste. Brahmins want only Brahmins of the particular sub caste, and vegetarian Mudaliars do not want alliances with meat eating Mudaliars, and so on for the hundred castes and sub castes. Christians divide themselves into Roman Catholic and Protestant; they have caste too. All this narrows down the choice considerably."
"No, Dad, in a country with a billion inhabitants the choice is wide. Please note that 0.1 percent of a billion is one million." Dad ran his eyes up and down the columns.
"Saaru instead of reading the long boring articles in the magazine section it would be vastly more interesting to read the matrimonial columns. One prospective groom calls himself a rationalist. Atheists I suppose he is, and presumably he wants no deal with believers. In India atheism is also a religion. One father wants a non-alcoholic son-in-law. Which father does not? Hey! Listen to this: A father wants a groom for his innocent unconsummated divorcee daughter. Strange wording, though one gets the point." He wondered if unconsummated only meant penetration to the exclusion of kissing and fondling, and may be even licking. How pure is a virgin who has been licked? He did not seek his daughter's opinion.
"The ads are neatly classified Saaru on the basis of caste, and language spoken, and religion. You are under the heading cosmopolitan. That gets you on top alphabetically; what does that mean?"
"It means that caste and creed and language are no bar."
"You specified that because it widens the choice?"
"Yes Dad, partly. You know that like you I care little for these subdivisions. You approve?"
"Of course I do."
"Why then are you not looking pleased?"
"I do not like to see my darling described in print as a barren woman fit only for widowers and divorcees."
"Facts have to be faced Dad. I am perfectly willing to remain single, but you want to see me settled before you leave. Fair enough. I have taken the only choice left."
"In the cursory glance I did not see mention of any infantile uteruses or other disabilities. Do all brides with infantile uteruses advertise that fact?"
"Most girl won't know Dad unless they go to doctors for scanty periods as I did. Even if they do the parents more often than not will suppress that fact."
"Do you think we should have done that too?"
"Certainly not. You would not approve of that, and your daughter most certainly will not. You always used to say that honesty is the best policy. I also feel that way."
Dad could not shake off his despondency. He wanted a moment of quiet.
"Next Sunday we can go through the bunch of replies," he said and left for his
room.
*
When Mr. Karan's wife passed away his daughter Saaru was fifteen years old. He himself was forty-one. He was not actively thinking of remarriage but if he had chanced upon a proper woman he would have married. His widowed elder sister lived with them. As she was Saaru's favourite aunt she made up for the loss of the mother.
Saaru was eighteen when she consulted a gynaecologist for scanty periods. After examination the doctor declared that Saaru had infantile uterus and she would not be able to bear children. Father and daughter accepted the news without much fuss at that time, but later when she was of marriageable age Mr. Karan was bothered. Saaru did not outwardly show concern for her disability, but it was constantly in the background of her mind. She was always of a cheerful disposition. She had many friends in college as well as in her work spot. She however never allowed her relationships with men to reach a stage when she would have had to declare that she would be barren. She never considered keeping it a secret.
Her aunt died when she was twenty-one. From then on Mr. Karan was more and more concerned for his daughter. He feared that if something were to happen to him his little girl would be left friendless in the world. More to assuage her father's feeling than for any other reason Saaru suggested they could advertise in the matrimonial columns. The advertisement yielded a handful of replies.
*
Mr. Karan sat on a double sofa with a stack of mail by his side and a waste paper basket on the floor in front. His daughter sat opposite waiting for Dad to begin proceedings. The first envelope was large and thick. Its contents were a sheaf of printed material.
"Some charitable organisation wants us to donate money," he said as he shoved the envelope with its contents into the waste paper basket. The next envelope was thick too. Mr. Saran cut it open with a pair of scissors. Mr. Saran read the contents with a bemused smile.
"What's funny?" asked his daughter.
"This writer, an evangelist, wants to know the first thing I would do when I go to heaven. Have you thought of that Saaru?"
"No."
"Neither have I. This gentleman has apparently; he says he would seek out his Lord the God first and pay his respects to Him. He has further plans. Next he would speak to St. Peter, who he says would be on the right side of God; he has listed a set of questions for him."
"Dad I think it is better you open the thick envelopes later," said Saaru.
Dad agreed. He went one better. He picked out the thick ones and transferred them unopened into the waste paper basket. He picked a thin long yellow envelope from the remaining and cut it open. He unfolded a single sheet it contained and read.
"This man," said Mr. Saran, "who is 61 wants to know if he could apply. It seems he has two young daughters. He wants a companion for his motherless children, to be their friend and guide."
"Two question have been with me ever since I thought of advertising," said Saaru, "how old would be too old, and was I ready to be a governess?"
The next two were frivolous applicants, and the next interested father and daughter. It was from a widower aged 49 with an unmarried daughter who was also Saaru's age.
Saaru chuckled. "He has not mentioned his date of birth. It would be interesting if he is older than his father-in-law." Mr. Saran could not let this pass.
"May be the daughter is older than the mother. That would be vastly more interesting."
"Even if it were so I would insist that she call me Mom." Dad found this amusing. He laughed. Saaru became serious.
"Dad, why did you not marry again? You were just 41 when Mummy passed away." This was not the first time daughter had asked that question; but it has been many years since she had wanted to know why he preferred to remain single. He gave the usual answer.
"I wanted to marry, but my desire was not strong enough to seek a bride actively. If one had come by I might have married."
"Was I responsible for your not seeking marriage?"
"No. If my sister had not kept house for us I might have married for your sake. You needed help in those days."
"Dad."
"Yes darling."
"Dad."
"Yes darling; out with it whatever is bothering you."
"You must be having a horrible time without regular sex."
"Why this sudden desire to discuss sex with me Saaru. We have never done that before."
"Is it wrong for father and daughter to talk about sex."
"It is not of course, but we have never done that."
"We should, at least now Dad."
"OK. Your question is if I am having a horrible time not having regular sex."
"Yes."
"You assume that I am having sex occasionally."
"I suppose you must Dad. That is natural. If you have been abstemious please excuse me for assuming otherwise."
