by Ajay Patel
“I’m up for it,” Vijay agreed. He went back to lining up his shot. “So have you ever met anyone at any of these matrimonial conventions?” Vijay asked, after sinking in another ball.
“Yeah I have. There are always some potentials each time I’ve gone. Unfortunately, none of them have worked out in the past. Just remember. You have to go in with the right attitude. It’s kinda like a lottery. You probably won’t win, but you can still have a lot of fun playing!” Rocky rationalized.
Later that weekend, Vijay came home to visit.
“Hey mom, I was talking to Rocky, and we were thinking of going to a Gujarati convention in Florida during Thanksgiving,” he disclosed, hoping she wouldn’t be upset at his leaving the family on the holiday. Vijay had prepared his list of reasons why it would be good for him to go. Her response, however, was not at all what he was expecting.
“That is being wonderful news! Papa and I have been talking for a few days now about thinking how to convince you to go. We are getting information in the mail last week about it. I was thinking surely you would be complaining about attending!”
Vijay seized this opportunity to close the deal. “It sounds pretty good. And who knows? Maybe I can meet someone there,” Vijay said, thinking this was all going too easy. “Rocky will even be there to keep me company.”
“Do not be worrying, Vijay,” Shantiben beamed. “Papa and I are being there also to help you find girls,” she said happily, her son finally now cooperating fully in the search for his wife.
“But…,” Vijay was completely taken aback at the thought that they were coming with him. This wasn’t part of the party plan. Surely they would cramp his style. But how could he possibly tell them that?
“Do not be worrying,” Shantiben said, looking at him and his suddenly worried frown. Vijay breathed an internal sigh of relief. Perhaps they would not come if they realized how uncomfortable this would make him feel. “We will all be having good times!” she beamed again, leaving to share the happy news with Jayendrabhai. As she left the room, all Vijay could think was that what at first seemed like an interesting and casual way to meet a lot of people his age had completely lost its appeal now that his parents were coming along.
15
The Meet Market—Registration
As the plane rested at the gate, Vijay glumly stood up from his seat. After committing to the convention, he began to realize unhappily that there was much more of an emphasis on it being matrimonial rather than it being a party. The thought of this had begun to make him uneasy. To add to his dismay, Rocky was going to be delayed and wouldn’t arrive until late Thursday. Fortunately, however, he would not be completely alone because he had spoken to Megha who had told him that she had been coerced to attend the convention by a friend as well.
Because of the time difference, his flight leaving early Wednesday afternoon from Los Angeles had arrived late in the night in Florida. As he unboarded with his garment bag containing suits his mother had called twice to make sure he had brought, he caught sight of his parents at the terminal waiting for him.
“How was your flight?” Jayendrabhai asked, helping Vijay with one of the smaller bags while Shantiben held his jacket. “Did you meet anyone?”
“Nope. No marriage material on board!” Vijay smiled wanly, joking to mask his feelings of uneasiness. “I guess we’ll still need to go to this convention after all, huh?”
As they approached a rental car that had an array of dead bugs stuck to the portion of the windshield that the wipers couldn’t reach in their arc, Jayendrabhai said, “We arrived here early and already picked up the matrimonial convention materials this afternoon.”
Shantiben handed an envelope to Vijay from the front seat. She said, “Here, take a look.”
Emblazoned in red in all capital letters on the front of the envelope was the phrase ‘INFORMATIONAL PACKET FOR MATRIMONIAL CANDIDATES.’ Vijay thought perhaps it would have been more appropriate to have labeled it an information packet for those who were ‘STILL DISAPPOINTINGLY SINGLE’ or ‘UNABLE TO FIND SPOUSE ON OWN.’ He opened the envelope from one end finding three badges inside. One badge had his name in large block letters with his age and hometown listed below. The other two were in his parents’ name with a blue dot in the corner of each. Evidently, as Vijay’s father explained, this indicated that they had a son who was single if anyone was interested in talking to them.
The envelope also contained a spreadsheet that listed all the matrimonial candidates who would be attending the convention. Included were names and phone numbers of each attendee along with their height, weight, education, occupation, and age. It, in one sense, was symbolic, Vijay thought with a negative attitude, in that it was easy for parents to evaluate all the data and make comparisons amongst the matrimonial candidates as if they were nothing more than mere inventory. This feeling of being nothing more than just an entry in a spread sheet seemed especially true when he realized that over ninety percent of the listed attendees were Patels, and that there were no less than three other Vijay Patels attending the convention.
“So what do you guys think about all this? Do you think it’ll be any good?” Vijay asked, hopeful for some kind of confirmation to make him feel better about it all.
“Do not worry Vijay. We met many parents there earlier today who all are being excited to have their daughters meet you! It will be fust class!” Shantiben tried to reassure him as they drove to the hotel.
Needless to say, Vijay didn’t feel any better.
16
The Meet Market—Day One of Fun
The matrimonial convention was being held at a large convention hall a short shuttle ride away from the hotel that Vijay, his parents, and the other convention attendees were staying in. As they approached the convention building the next morning, Vijay could see an electronic scrolling sign listing all of the events being held for that weekend. Every ten seconds or so flashing in bright lights like a Las Vegas casino was the message ‘The Greater Orlando Convention Center Welcomes the Gujarati Matrimonial Convention.’ Comically, following that message was a blinking ‘The Greater Orlando Convention Center is Pleased to Host the Harley Davidson Motorcycle Show.’
It was indeed quite a juxtaposition of two different crowds getting out of various shuttles that had arrived at the front convention hall entrance from a number of the surrounding hotels. On the one hand, there were Indian families with the fathers in their slacks and work dress shirts, the mothers not far behind wearing saris and gold jewelry, and the reluctant sons and daughters bringing up the rear, all walking quietly as if they were part of a funeral procession. At the same time there were leather clad and well bearded men with naked women tattoos accompanied by biker chicks in Daisy Dukes that were too short, hair that was too big, and halter tops that seemed too tight, walking up the same paths to the front entrance, just as loud and rambunctious as the Indian families were quiet.
Vijay and his family followed a group of people who weren’t wearing leather and came to a registration table. Behind they could see the entrance to a room that was only one-quarter full because it was still early. There were also a number of booths that had been set up along the periphery hallways. Evidently, with any function like the matrimonial convention, the organizers had solicited the local businesses to help fund the event in return for the opportunity for them to sell their wares and services. As a result, there were an assortment of clothing, jewelry, and insurance booths set up for potentially new business generated from the largely out of town convention attendees.
“Let’s sit down and go through this list,” Jayendrabhai said, having taken the list of eligible females from Vijay. He pulled out a red pen that he no doubt planned to use to mark the desirable candidates.
Vijay was embarrassed at the concept of doing that, not wanting to have any part in such a targeted marketing process. “Go ahead,” he told his parents. “Make out your list of girls you think I should marry. I’m going to walk around.” Vijay left them
sitting there, too preoccupied evaluating the attendees on paper to even listen to him and his desire to meet the attendees in person.
Walking back outside to the hallway, he started on one end and surveyed the scene. Everywhere around him there were people that he had never met or seen in his life. Although a part of this excited him, another part felt like he needed the comfort of having at least someone for company. He sought that comfort near one booth where a large thermometer with the words ‘Matrimonial Thermometer’ was printed neatly on top. It was in front of this booth that he had spotted Megha.
He called her name and she turned around and looked at him, her eyes lighting up as she answered, “Vijay! It’s so nice to see another familiar face here!”
“Believe me, I know what you mean!” Vijay replied with empathy. “So what’s this?” he asked, pointing to the big thermometer on the wall.
“That’s the matrimonial thermometer,” she said with raised eyebrows. “It’s like a telethon. They have a goal for thirty marriages to come out of this matrimonial convention and they’re asking everyone to do their part to help make it happen!”
Vijay rolled his eyes and shook his head. What had they gotten themselves into? He then looked up at her and smiled, “At least I’m glad I found you. I have someone to suffer through this with now.” He then looked around and asked, “So, are you here alone too?”
“No,” she answered. “A friend of mine is here with me. Her name is Komal. She lives in Orlando and had no excuse for not coming to the convention so she forced me to come along. In fact, there she is over there,” Megha pointed to a woman talking to some uncles and aunties on the other side of the room. She was about five foot nine and was a striking figure, especially compared to the other shorter India women around her.
“She’s beautiful,” Vijay commented.
“She’s available. The only thing is that she’s two years older than me. What do you think? Should I play matchmaker?” Megha hinted while nudging him.
“Not if she’s older than even you,” Vijay groaned with a laugh.
“Yeah, I don’t see you guys together either,” Megha said with a grin. “After all, she’s almost taller than you!”
“That’s a low blow!” he winced, not appreciative of the idea that he was being called short. He then looked at Megha again and said seriously, “I really am glad that you’re here.”
Before Megha could reply, Komal had rushed over from across the room. “Megha! You need to pace yourself! Don’t let that marriage thermometer pressure you into marrying the first guy that says hello to you!” Komal had a luscious southern accent that evidently had come from growing up in the South.
“Komal, this is Vijay,” Megha made the introductions, laughing.
“Hi!” she extended a friendly hand. “No hard feelings, but I don’t want Megha to be settling for less any earlier than she needs to!” she joked, realizing that Megha and Vijay were friends.
Vijay grinned and answered back, “Please, don’t be ashamed to admit it. You just want to make sure I’m available for you! I understand the game!” They all laughed and traded more barbs and as Vijay looked at both Megha and Komal, his spirits rose. He had a feeling that no matter how the convention turned out, at least the three of them would have fun and become even better friends.
A person’s voice could be heard up at the front stage asking everyone to come into the main auditorium. Vijay looked at both of them and said, “I’ll meet up with you two later. I’m going back to my parents before they marry me off to someone without even asking me!”
Vijay walked over to where his parents were sitting. Jayendrabhai looked at him with a mission in mind. “Looking at the list, there are a lot of good girls you need to meet. I have put a check mark next to the ones that look promising. I have an extra copy so we’ll keep an eye out for the girls’ parents too.” He had evidently planned for every opportunity and contingency. “There are many more girls here than boys, so I’m thinking you should set your standards higher. You are premium goods here!” he exclaimed.
“You’re sending me mixed signals, dad. Weren’t you just telling me a while back that I shouldn’t expect perfection and that I had to learn to start compromising and giving in a little?”
“But that was when I didn’t know there was such a selection!” Jayendrabhai said excitedly.
Vijay just laughed. His father sounded like a retail shopper who had just found his first factory outlet mall.
The next hour and a half of the morning involved the official kickoff to the convention. Two pandits joined the organizers on stage to give a religious invocation, beseeching for a productive and prosperous weekend. Vijay could almost imagine the matrimonial thermometer beginning to inch towards its goal based on Ganesh and other gods being asked to assist in the process. The pandits were followed by acknowledgements to the volunteers, who were also introduced as brokers of sorts, in the event anyone needed assistance in meeting someone or their parents. Finally, an interactive session was held to open the lines of communication between parents and their kids. The importance of cultural intactness was stressed upon the kids, and the importance of being more open so as to not turn off the kids to cultural intactness was stressed upon the parents. After the last presentation was completed, an announcer on stage instructed the parents to go to the Cottonwood Room and the matrimonial candidates to go to the Lewis Room for lunch. Jayendrabhai pulled out the agenda to confirm that this was true, disappointed no doubt, feeling that Vijay’s women meeting productivity would only be maximized if they were by his side pushing and urging him along. Vijay, however, felt otherwise, and was thankful that the convention planners had thought similarly.
“See you later,” Vijay, said, as he followed the younger crowd that was walking out.
“Good luck,” Shantiben called out. Jayendrabhai was still too preoccupied with the list, having pulled it out with the agenda again, to say anything. Vijay thought with a smile as he walked away, that his father was one of those who spent an intolerable amount of time putting together a perfect game plan, only to have the game be over by the time he was ready to implement it.
Following the crowd he ended up in the Lewis Room where he met up with Komal and Megha who were already in line waiting for food. People were waiting in veg or non-veg lines. Basically in both lines there were sub sandwiches, potato chips, and sodas. It was just that one line had sandwiches with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, and salami, and the other line had the exact same things, except there was a little extra lettuce and a lot less salami.
After filling their plates with food and potato chips, joking with each other all the while how the religious and diet gods would not look down approvingly at what they were putting on their plates, they sat down in the middle of a long table. Having taken only one bite, Komal put her sandwich down abruptly and called out loudly to someone across the room behind Vijay.
“Milan! Over here,” she waved vigorously, beckoning him to join them. A guy, slightly taller than Vijay with long wavy hair, glasses, and an easy smile dressed in a J Crew style walked over with plate and drink in hand.
“Hey Komal! Megha!” he said hello to them. “I’m glad I found you! This place is just swimming in Indians!”
Komal introduced Milan to Vijay. “Vijay, this is one of my younger cousins. Milan’s from Seattle.”
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Vijay shook his hand. “And I mean that because up to now, all I’ve been hearing is how cute the guys are at the convention. At least now I’ll have someone to rate the women that are here!” Vijay joked.
“Definitely!” Milan said with a grin, as he sat down next to Vijay.
“So tell me, have you ever been to one of these conventions before?” Vijay asked him after taking a couple of sips from his drink.
“No,” Komal answered on his behalf because he had taken a bite out of his sandwich just as Vijay had asked the question, “Milan’s the youngest cousin in the family and is just starting
this whole process. But don’t worry honey,” she spoke to Milan, “I’ll teach you the ropes, we all know that I’ve been doing it long enough!”
“Believe me, I’ve been happy about that too!” Milan laughed. He then turned to Vijay, “You see, as long as she’s looking, the attention’s on her and not on me!”
“Speaking of which,” Vijay said, “I keep getting this feeling that I’m being stared at wherever I go. Am I crazy?”
“I know what you mean,” Milan said in understanding. “I’ve been feeling like I’m a piece of meat ever since I got here, too. Don’t get me wrong, it’s okay when women are doing it! But it’s so bizarre when its the parents and grandparents who stare at you!”
“I hope you guys don’t think you’re anything special!” Megha chided them, trying to keep their heads from getting too big from the attention they felt that they were attracting. “The parents just want to get your name off your name tag so that they can look you up on the spread sheet and decide whether their daughter should meet you or not. After they figure out who you guys are, you’ll be invisible, believe me!”
“Well, if that’s the case, maybe I should just put this stupid name tag over the zipper of my pants so they’ll be too embarrassed to even look down there!” Vijay said jokingly.
“I’m with you,” Milan agreed laughing. “In fact, I’m just going to keep mine in my pocket. If people want to get to know me, maybe now they’ll make the effort rather than running back to one of their spreadsheets!”
Vijay thought that a good plan and took his name tag off as well in a show of solidarity. Maybe, if anything, that would encourage more women to come talk to him because at least they would have genuine questions to start off a conversation, such as “What’s you name?” “Where are you from?” and “Where’s your name tag?”