Fiction: Meena leaves behind her home in India for a new life in Nepal after marriage

All through the month leading up to the wedding, Kaveri consoled Meena. “Don’t worry about the village part, little one. You will not have to live in the village for long. Your husband is not interested in farming at all. He wants to be an officer. He wants to live in Kathmandu. Can you imagine,” she said, momentarily forgetting she was supposed to be comforting her daughter, “they don’t even have a video hall in that village, let alone a cinema hall. No electricity, no taps, only hand pumps, no roads, obviously. But their rice is fresher than fish,” she quickly added, “and their chicken younger than eggs. Eh? There is something to that or not? And they will dress you in silk and sleep you on mulmul. You should see the picture, how nicely round that Kumud is!”

“Nepal is like India, only,” said Kaveri, holding her daughter close.

“It is like another state in India. Now, if you go to Madras will you understand a word they say there? No. But you can go to Nepal and still understand what they are saying. It is like that. It is the same country, just two different names.”

And now the wedding was here already. Meena...

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