They came. It's strange how I knew they came even before I could hear the screeching noise of rubber against stone, as their cars pulled up in front of my family's house. I was told to remain silent and stay in my room. Oh, why's that clock so loud? I can hear voices – if only I could hear what they are saying. That boy better be good looking. I didn't get all dressed up in my best sari for nothing. Okay, my mother's signaling me. Now I have to get them drinks.

Oh Rama! I'm so nervous! Oh no the tray is shaking. Okay, the boy's parents seem nice. They smiled when they took the coffee cups from my tray. If only I can take one small peek at the boy…no that is inappropriate. I must wait for permission. Falling at the elders' feet is such a relief! I almost felt so dizzy with nervousness! Remember the rules, remember what amma told me about the family. Now for the interview.

What is my name. Don't they know it already? They know me to the horoscopic core.

Can I cook. Of course I can cook! I was bred to be the perfect Indian wife.

And more questions. The mother is asking politely, but everybody is staring at me the entire time! Ayoh! Must not make a fool of myself, I must show them how proud I am of my family and show off how well I have been brought up. Smile, don't forget to smile. I am Vasantha, daughter of Ramaswaminathan, of pure Iyengar Brahmin caste.

Finally they decided to leave. The mother says that she and her son and the entire family will discuss our meeting and tell us of his decision. My mother replied that we will do the same. Waiting outside on the door is such a pain…my arms hurt, and I'm still waving to the leaving cars, even when I can't see more than a small dot disappearing from the colony. Father seems so tired. I am exhausted.

Tags & Keywords : india, marriage, custom, tradition, family, nervousness