Chapter 1 – Another ‘Samosa’ Day
“B-51, B52…I think it’s in the next lane”
And my father took a right turn increasing my blood pressure with it. From the picture, this girl looked thinner…. I mean less fat than the last one. The girl’s name was ‘Trisha’ and she was our second girl from the morning.
At the time of recession hit software industry, she could be my best option. Also, she might be kind enough to ignore my compensation compared to her heaviness. My salary and work life would have anyways made her thin after marriage.
We arrived at the house to be greeted by an uncle, an aunty and a big brother this time. The uncle had a mysterious smiling face. He was bulky, wore specs and had some hair still left on the corners of his mysterious head. The aunty was taller and thinner than her husband. She might have been good looking if only I could see though her TV serial makeup.
The big brother’s name was Abhishek. He was tall, thin and… oh no! He was a Software Engineer like me.
After a round of introductions, the aunty appeared from the kitchen with the usual tray of Samosas, Kachories and Mithais. Surprisingly, everything seemed cold and old. Might have been hot when the first boy come to see the girl this morning, I thought. It was yet another example of resource conservation in recession times. Or …or…was it left from the Diwali that happened last weekend? Anyways, on repeated requesting…. I accepted their challenge and picked up a Samosa.
As soon as I opened my mouth to feel it, the Abhishek inquired,
“Is your job stable? I mean is your company doing fine?”
“Yes, of course, in fact it is doing quite well! I heard that job cuts are happening in other firms like ABC and DEF. But there are no such problems in my firm.” I had practiced this a lot many times.
“Really! In that case, can you please forward my resume in your company? You know, I was working in ABC and was taken out with the others in the free pool. I have three years of experience in Java and C++ and….”
O yes! So even before I saw the girl and agree to marry her, I had to place my would-be brother in law in my company. Last month, I was myself in a free pool and was about to lose my job when saved it, just in time, by discovering a new manager and managing his questions. The Samosas kept getting digested and Abhishek kept bothering me with his skill sets until finally, I saw her for the first time.
The lady looked nice and simple. Something was there in her… I mean of course there was something in her… she was fat and healthy but not as ferocious as the last one. She was wearing a simple pink polka dotted Salwar-Kameez and had an innocent smile on her face. Her presence somehow increased my resistivity to hear the rest of her brother’s tragedy.
“… To cut the costs, my company went through a restructuring and I was taken out…” Abhishek was going on and on
The mysterious uncle suddenly sensed something and made a mysterious hand-lifting gesture. It was probably a code to ‘shut up’ as Abhishek stopped his story on seeing it. Everything was quiet now, as if before a storm. I felt scared. She looked down and I immediately looked down.
The Samosa tray was looking empty at us. Was it my hunger? No! I think, it was Mr big brother’s tragedy that made me gobble all the stale Samosas in one go.
Trisha smiled at me, “Would you like some more Samosas?”
“Nooo! They were enough.” were the cries from my tummy.
Trisha seemed to love talking. Even before anyone asked her, she told us about the school where she teaches, her favorite dish, her favorite actor and her hobbies of singing, reading and cooking. She possessed a great attitude and charming nature. Apart from her, the uncle was mysteriously mysterious while the aunty appeared just as alive as her daughter. I had no problem opening up to them.
This visit was different from the morning girl’s place. There I had to deal with tough questions regarding my package, expected increment and in-hand salary. The last uncle went emotional on my answers. They even asked my expenditures, for accommodating their daughter’s monthly food budget. Surprisingly, no such questions were asked here. Probably, Abhishek knew about the packages in my firm. And, at least I had a salary while he had none.
Trisha and I were given some time to talk alone. The lady took me to her brother’s room. The place looked very familiar. In fact, it was just like my own. There were similar printouts of specifications on the table. Some over read computer books lay on the racks. A rusty laptop bag rested on a chair. And then there was a familiar desktop used frequently but not dusted for ages. Among the other things were a small bed and little space walk around. So we sat on the bed.
The lady started first, “So Rohit, tell me about your hobbies.”
Hobbies? My hobbies? Oh yes! I used to have some hobbies when I was a kid and then I became a Software Engineer. Now my hobbies were ‘fixing bugs due to the bug fixing’ and ‘manager handling after the mishandling’. So I thought for a moment and gave her the usual hobby answer.
“Actually, I like reading, listening to music and watching movies.”
“Really! You like reading. You know I just love books. What are your favorite books?”
I was in trouble. The last book I read was “Data Structures and Algorithm by Robert Lafore” which I used for interview preparations when I was about to lose my job. If I had announced the name of a famous book, she could have caught me with the content. So, diplomatically I said, “Me? Well, I like the books of Datstru Algom”
“Datstru what? Who is he? I never heard of him.”
“Datstru Algom! You haven’t heard of him? He is an upcoming Russian philosopher.”
“You know Russian ?”
“No, I read his English adaptations. What a wonderful philosopher he is! He has come out with the algorithm of sorting the life’s primary data structures in a simplified and efficient manner with log(n) complexity”, what was I saying ?
“Hmm! So you have interest in philosophy. That’s strange, I thought that Software Engineers don’t like them.”
Suddenly, Trisha stopped talking. She looked outside from the window. The mysterious uncle had mysteriously walked past this room for a second time in two minutes. I understood that it was time to go back to the crowd.
As we went back, we found our parents in some serious discussions. Moms were discussing the next episode of “Kyonki bahu bhi kabhi saas banegi” while Papas were caught in dangerous talks about next generation hair styles. Finding them busy, the girl continued talking to me.
“I heard that you are searching for a non-software engineer wife. May I ask you why? You people have such an exciting life with computers and technologies. You make new software every day. I love teaching but my job isn’t as interesting as yours.”
She was just like everyone else. She thought our job to be innovative and exciting. In our country thousands become software engineers every year with the desire to innovate. But then working on projects with strict deadlines and some conservative process model, the management hardly gives them a chance to apply any creativity to it. With the largest number of SEs, even today we rely on the research happening abroad. Why? Because applying new ideas here would be too risky for our inflexible, service oriented, foreign fund dependent software industry.
Why did I want a non-software engineer in my life? Simply, because I wanted someone whose life was more exciting than mine. Someone, who was not running after software qualities and delivery deadlines. My wife could give me a different prospective about life. Also, she should be in a stable job, as our export oriented software sector becomes the first victim of any economic tragedy abroad.
I was lost in these thoughts so deep that I forgot to reply her. By that time, our parents had finished talking. Both the parties looked pleased. My father had taken the responsibility of matching our horoscopes and getting back to them. You see, people in India are open-minded now. They don’t believe in castes and horoscopes, but they always need to match them for marriage.
Before leaving, I felt like saying something to Trisha. But as I soon as I opened my mouth, Abhishek appeared with his diary.
“Can you please tell me your e-mail id? I will forward you my resume.”