then again, this is what that chef Heston Blumenthal does: puts things together that shouldn’t work, like a fried egg and Viennetta ice cream as a main course, and people say it’s an odd match made in heaven. So who knows? At the end of the day, there are over 1.2 billion people in India, so you can hardly spend time searching for ‘the one’, can you? It’s hard enough finding a parking space in India, never mind ‘the one’.
After buying myself a suit for £30 we were on our way round to meet Shivani and her parents. I was knackered, as shopping in India isn’t a very pleasurable thing to do. I’m not a fan of shopping at home due to noise and crowds, but it’s fifty times worse here. Wherever you walk it seems everybody else is going in the opposite direction and it’s one big battle. Every space is taken up. You think you find a quiet alley to just get a moment’s peace, but a moped will come hurtling towards you driven by a man holding a pig. The shop I bought the suit from had very little room for customers due to the stock taking up so much space, so there was no changing room, which meant stripping off by the cash till.
We allowed plenty of time to get to Shivani’s place, but we were still late. You can never guess how long it’s going to take you to get anywhere in India, as the roads are chaos. It looks like when you disturb an ant nest. Two lanes are made into five lanes; one-way roads are definitely not one-way. An Indian sat nav probably just wishes you luck and tells you to go wherever you want. I suppose that’s what I find odd about arranged marriages: not that they exist, but the fact that they exist in India, a place where it seems nothing is properly arranged.
Luckily, my being late wasn’t too much of a problem, as Shivani’s dad, Harash, informed me she wasn’t ready yet, as she and her sister were struggling to decide what to wear. I wandered off to find a toilet in a nearby hotel, as even though I’d only been in India for just over twenty-four hours, the dreaded Delhi Belly had already hit me. About forty-five minutes later Harash took me through his rug shop and into his home. I’d decided that I wouldn’t tell them about Suzanne, as I wanted to see how far I could get and if I could pass the test.
HARASH: I’ll introduce you to my wife. Her name is Neena. And this is the younger sister of Shivani. Her name is Sakshi. And this is Shivani.
KARL: Shivani. Good to finally see you.
SHIVANI: Hi, how are you?
HARASH: Well, let us see if you are highly qualified and that you’ve got a good job.
Jesus. I hadn’t even sat down and he was already quizzing me. They have more chitchat before the questions start on Mastermind. I felt like I had to impress him more than the girl I was there to possibly marry. Shivani looked nice enough, though. Quite a smiley face. I thought it could work. I don’t understand when people say, ‘Oh, they don’t really match’ What are we, a pair of bloody socks? If people had to match, Quasimodo would have been knocking about with a camel and not Esmeralda.
HARASH: Tell me something about your parents to start with.
KARL: They’re just normal, you know, haven’t got much money. They’ve retired now, but me dad’s done all sorts of jobs from tiling, gardening, courier work . . . He’s been a taxi driver, he had a butty shop, erm, loads of stuff.
HARASH: Tell me something about your childhood and your schooling. What type of school were you in?
KARL: It was what you call a comprehensive, not like a grammar, just a normal school, erm . . . I wasn’t a bad bad kid, I tried me best.
HARASH: Can you tell me something about your education, please?
KARL: There’s not much to tell, they’re called GCSEs, the exams in England. Have you heard of them? Right. Well, I got one of them, in history.
HARASH: Did you pass?
KARL: I got an E, so it’s a pass.
HARASH: So what do you do now? For living, for job?
KARL: I write books, I do travel programmes.
HARASH: You write a book? You’re getting good amenity from books?
KARL: Yeah, not bad, they do alright. I mean it’s not Harry Potter, but I earn a wage. I don’t owe any money. I think that’s important.
HARASH: Tell me, are you living with your mother and father or are you living in apartment alone?
KARL: I’ve got a house.
HARASH: A complete house?
KARL: Full house, five bedrooms.
SHIVANI: Very big house.
SAKSHI: So he’s got space for us.
KARL: Well . . .
SHIVANI: So everyone can fit in then.
KARL: Yes, maybe . . . in time.
SAKSHI: That’s good.
KARL: So how old are you?
SHIVANI: I’m exactly thirty-three.
KARL: I’m forty. Isn’t forty quite old for you?
NEENA: I think that’s the maximum . . .
SHIVANI: Yeah, I would say about thirty-eight, thirty nine. But, obviously, if other qualifications, if other things are there . . . So if smartness is there, or you like working, then I think one could always just . . .
SAKSHI: Age is just a number. I think there are other qualities that matter more . . .
HARASH: Are you looking for a girl who is homely, somebody who is domesticated? Or would you like your would-be wife to work?
KARL: A little bit of both, if possible. Work, and a little bit of home duties sort of thing, but we’ll share that. I like cleaning, I’m very good. You’re asking about hobbies and things, I quite enjoy cleaning windows. I find it very relaxing.
HARASH: What is your income like? That’s very important, for us . . .
KARL: Yeah, but I don’t want that to sort of be the decision-maker.
HARASH: Well, I would like to know your income.
KARL: I know, but I don’t think that should matter. I’ve been honest about my age, and my exam results, and I’d like to be picked on whether she thinks I’m the man who could look after her. Money can cause a lot of problems, it doesn’t bring you any happiness.
HARASH: It’s not a question of happiness, I’d like to know whether you . . .
KARL: Put it this way, I don’t owe anyone any money.
SAKSHI: That’s good. That’s what matters.
KARL: You know, she won’t starve. She’ll have a roof over her head. At the end of the day, I could say I’m earning thousands, but then I might not tell you I’m a big gambler. There’s a lot of nutters out there earning fortunes, but they’re idiots.
SAKSHI: Yeah.
KARL:
