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The Mush Register

COMEDY OF ERRORS Anjali and Jay

Anjali

When the pastor asked me to meet him after the (Sunday) service, I visualised brimstone raining down on me. A clergyman is expected to shepherd his flock and this means that he feels free to reprimand members of the congregation for some slackness or an undesirable quality that he has noticed. When I knew what was on his mind, I heaved a sigh of relief — I was not a straying sheep that needed correction. Nevertheless, what I heard from him left an uneasy feeling inside. He spoke haltingly, "Anjali, I can't... can't go around in circles about this. Let me get straight to it... eh, I want to marry you." Both of us exhibited signs of embarrassment. I stammered out my hesitation. Telling him I needed a month to decide, I slipped away. However, it took me just seven days to make up my mind.

Jay

I had known her for three years when love struck in an unexpected and dramatic manner. Something stirred in my soul when she breezed into view, wearing a long skirt, an equally lengthy top, short studs on her ears and with long, lustrous hair that was let loose. Only a few weeks ago, I had told my sister that I wanted to marry a North Indian girl and that I would want my wife to wear long tops, long skirts, short studs and let her hair fly in the wind. I thought my sister had blurted out these preferences to Anjali (a Maharashtrian who, like Jay, grew up in the North) and I was convinced that Anjali was trying to tell me that she could match my dreams. When I met Anjali the following Sunday, I was sure I would be accepted. I faltered in my speech only because we had not spoken much, prior to the meeting. After the service every Sunday, our exchanges would be brief. "She would say the message was inspiring and I would graciously accept the compliment." Later, my sister told me she had not breathed a word to Anjali.

(AS TOLD TO PRINCE FREDERICK)

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