Overdrive

A strange conversation I recently had with my driver

Driver: I’m looking for a nice girl for my son.

Me: Oh, so anything working out?

Driver: No. The last girl we saw we didn’t like.

Me: Why not?

Driver: Oru sotha pal (decayed tooth) irindhidhu

Me: ????? Oru sotha pal? It’s not a genetic disease you know – you can fix that!

Driver: It looked bad. And it was a front tooth!

That explained it. Even a turnip growing out of her head is better than a front tooth that’s decayed.

Driver (oblivious to my indignation): Besides she had a problem with her feet.

Me: Why, was she limping?

Driver: No, but my Mrs. (as he calls his wife) saw that her feet weren’t arched. They were flat!

Horror of horrors! God forbid flat feet from crossing his threshold!

Me (spluttering): Soooo?

Driver: Adhu seri varaadhu ma!

Conversation shifts to dowry.

Me: Sigh! So tell me do you take dowry?

Driver: We don’t call it dowry

Me: Then what do you call it?

Driver: Suit money

Me: What???

Driver: Yeah. We ask for money to stitch a suit

Me: How much can you possibly ask for a suit??

Driver (airily): Oh, up to 40-50000.

Me: (Speechless)

I was amazed there are such people around who knock off a girl from the list because her nails are not pink enough or her elbows too rounded. Pity the poor girl (with arched feet and all 32 pearly whites intact) who enters that household with her father's lifetime earnings.