The Wedding Wallah (The Marriage Bureau for Rich People, Book 3)
Farahad Zama
Language: English
Pages: 198
ISBN: 2:00244256
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Mr Ali's flourishing marriage bureau seems to have chalked up another success when his ward, Pari, receives a surprise proposal from a rich, handsome aristocrat. But why is the boy's family so keen to get him married to Pari - an orphan, a widow, and now a single mother? Meanwhile Communist insurgents on the warpath in India's rural hinterland, and gays on the march for their rights in the big cities of Bombay and Delhi seem from another world. But soon these threatening forces invade the peaceful lives of Mr and Mrs Ali, their son Rehman and their able assistant Aruna...
catching Pari’s eye as she did so. The young woman’s beautiful face was so crumpled and forlorn that Mrs Ali’s heart melted like the ghee. “Don’t be so sad. I am sorry to speak like this, Pari. You are right. Everything will be fine. Listen to me wittering away; that’s what arthritis does to you. The doctor says there is no remedy for it and you begin to think that all problems in the world are like that – no cure, no cure.” “What you are saying makes sense, chaachi. It wasn’t that. I just
also send your details to our members, so you can get called by other people too. The membership fee for a year is five hundred rupees.” Aruna took out a list of Baliga Kapu grooms and handed it to Mr Chandra. “Have a look at these matches, sir,” she said. The man smiled at her and started going through the list. Taking out one of his pens, he circled a couple of entries. “Interesting. There are some good candidates here,” he said, looking up. Aruna took the list from him and handed him
remote control. A small motor whined and a white screen lowered from the ceiling, hiding the Mughal miniature painting. The picture of an old-fashioned album was projected, several feet high and the same width across, on to the screen. The image became sharper and more vivid as Dilawar switched off most of the lights in the room. “Wow,” said Shaan. “When did you get it?” Dilawar shrugged. “I felt lonely last weekend and went shopping. I said I would take their top-of-the-range kit if they could
at your uncle’s place in Kakinada and then going to the boy’s family in Yanam to finalise the details. And the farmer next to our land near Kottavalasa has made up his mind to sell. You need to go there for the registration.” “So what’s the problem?” said Ramanujam. “I can go to the farmer tomorrow and be back by the evening. As I said, we are not leaving for Mumbai until the day after.” His father shook his head. “It’s not that simple. The farmer said the documents are mortgaged with the State
attention to herself than she absolutely needed to. And what would happen if they decided that her cooking boosted the comrades’ morale and made her crucial to the struggle? “Where is Leninkumar?” asked Rehman. “The comrade had to leave the camp on business.” Mr Reddy winced as he tried to reach for the food, prompting Aruna to ask, “Are you all right, sir?” He nodded without speaking. She served the food on one of the disposable plates made from stitched leaves and handed it to him. He