Get married before the summer

That is what a set of complete strangers told me at a farmers' meeting in a village near Itarsi.

I was wildly distracted by the Assamese vet's incomprehensible but incredibly cute accent, the droll things that the Itarsi women were saying and the gossipy visitors from Jhansi. As if this was not enough titillation someone opened a box and let loose twenty yellow chicks in the yard.

And then the advice. I was tremendously amused. Especially since this advice came 45 minutes before the women asked me my name. In a fairly normal sequence of events they bitched about being married themselves and insisted on my getting married right away alternately. All except the most beautiful girl in the group. She was an exquisite, hugely pregnant teenager. I wondered whether her discontent, which i felt was much greater than the others, came from a greater sense of entitlement. Is it universal the feeling that beauties must do well for themselves?

I told Bottle Imp when I got to Bangalore and he wrote a poem about it. So it didn't go all to waste.


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