Avasa (Part II)

"Yaar, check this out," says Debbie eagerly. We're in Avi's basement, reading the reviews we've gotten in the college newsletter. She starts reading. "'Desi Insurrection is out to reinvent Indian rock 'n' roll. With their quintessential punk style, these women break taboos and sing about things India doesn't dare talk about. But don't think the politics comes before the music. Are they guitars? Are they knives? Who can tell the difference?'" She beams at the rest of us.

I whoop and raise my fist in the air. "Allll fucking riiiight!"

Avi, who's standing behind me with her arms around my waist, kisses the side of my face. "We did it!" she says, hugging me.

We all exchange high-fives and hugs. We plan the next concert for a bit, and then Debbie and Nandini leave.

"Finally, alone!" I say.

"Yeah, let's get you out of those clothes," says Avi, grabbing me. "I owe you for last night, anyway." She starts kissing my mouth.

"Hmmm, last night," I murmur. "I hate to sound arrogant, but *I* was good. Brilliantly executed, flawless sex."

Avi raises an eyebrow. "I beg to differ. The second time, you sneezed in the middle of stomach kisses and such."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I ask, innocently. "I'm a little deaf from all your screaming last night."

She smiles. She kisses me hard and starts pushing my shirt up. "Mhhhhmmm," I sigh. I pull her T-shirt up over her head. She isn't wearing a bra. She kisses my neck.

"You know what?" I suddenly remember. "Graduation's coming up."

"Uh-hmmm." She's too busy nibbling on my left breast.

I bite my lip to keep myself from yelping. "My parents are going to come."

Her head pops up. "Okay."

"You know we can't tell them anything," I say.

"Understood. But I do want to meet them."

"Okay," I say hesitantly, playing with her hair.

"What?" she asks sharply. "You don't seem too enthusiastic."

"Avi, I don't know how to explain this," I say. "This is a country where gender stereotypes are practically carved in stone."

"And you think that because I don't have a degree in full-fledged femininity, your parents will think I'm some freak and say something weird that will embarrass you."

"I'm just trying to avoid another argument like we had with Alka that day."

"So you're suggesting that I don't even meet them at all."

"No...yes...well, maybe." I wish I didn't have to do this to her. But I know my parents and their middle class morals. They will judge her, and they will judge me, and they will tell me to stay away from her. It's just safer this way.

She puts her shirt back on and moves away from me. "Bhai will be back soon," she says. "I have to drop him to the airport."

"I'll come with you."

"Okay."

"Avi." She looks so hurt. "Avi, I swear I'm just trying to protect us."

"I get it," she nods grimly. All I want to do is kiss her and tell her I love her so much, but something in her face holds me back.

******

We've done many more concerts that went well. We've even toured to New Delhi and performed there.

Graduation came and went. My parents are not too happy that I'm in a band. "What are you going to do with your life?" asks my mother. "Sing songs and dance?"

"Mom."

"What Mom?" she argues. "Is this why we paid for you to go to a good college? Nadya, this is not the type of behaviour any good Indian family wants from their future daughter-in-law."

"Mom, I graduated college with honours," I argue. "I have a day-job. Music is my passion. And I do it for charity, for God's sake. And as for no good family liking this type of behaviour, well, tough. This is who I am. I won't marry someone who can't deal with it."

"Nadya," says my father sternly. "I'm afraid I can't allow this to go on for too long. You can have your fun for now. But when those marriage proposals start coming in, you have to stop."

"I can't promise anything."

The truth is, meeting my parents after such a long time has been a real shock for me. A reality check. I've been so engrossed in my work and music and Avi, I'd almost forgotten that all that freedom would be drastically cut short when my parents came into the picture.

It's already started.

I'm staying with my parents in a hotel right now. I haven't seen Avi in two weeks. I called her a couple of times, but couldn't talk to her for too long.

"Nadya?" my mother is asking me.

"Hmmm?"

"Come back with us. To Allahabad."

"Mom, I have a job in Mumbai now. I'm looking for an apartment these days."

"You can't live alone," says my father.

"Papa, what is wrong with you people?" I try to reason with them. "I'm not a little girl any more. I have a job. I'm going to be independent now. And as for living alone, I'm going to get a roommate. So you needn't worry."

My father puts an arm around me. "How can I not worry about my favourite daughter?" he says. "I don't care what you say, you'll always be a little girl to me."

"Papa."

"What Papa?" he says. "Come back with us to Allahabad. You can get a job there."

"I can't, Papa."

"And everyone wants to meet you, anyway," says my mother. "The family. They want to know how my beautiful daughter has turned out. Now is the time. We want to see you settled down."

"Mom, I'm not ready just yet."

"What nonsense, beta?" asks my mother with a wave of her hand. "You know, Mumbai has made you far too Westernized. This is our culture."

"No, this is *unfair*."

"Why don't you want to get married?" says my father. "We're not forcing you to marry just anyone. Marry someone you like."

"Who I haven't met yet."

"But you will if you come to Allahabad," says my mother.

"Or I could, if I went to grad school in a year," I say.

"No!" says my father. "I'm not letting you marry some idiot from abroad. God knows what silly things you might do if you find someone there."

"Good God," I sigh. "This is ridiculous."

My father pats my back. "You are stubborn. Okay, let's compromise. Come to Allahabad for a short while. A month. The whole family's missed you. Then you can come back to Mumbai and do your job and concerts and whatever."

"Okay, okay," I say, resigning. "But only for a month."