Reading Between the Lines

Chapter 34: Internalizing

"What plans do you have today?" I return to her while I put on some gloves and then unlace my shoes.

"Ennu illa (nothing). Nandini aunty is hosting a get-together for Sankranti (religious holiday), so I'm trying to pick out a sari. You know me, I'm not trying to show off too much. So I think I'm just gonna wear a Mysore silk."

I cackle hearing that. Yeah, Mysore silk is so modest. It's not like that silk can sell for up to 500 dollars or more. But no. It's pretty laid-back according to her.

"So understated," I drawl in my signature sarcasm as I hear her smug laugh.

"Ok, ok. No need to be like that. I mean it, you know how those aunties are."

Oh, yeah. The aunties and uncles (not biological, it's just a way to refer to elders) in my family friend group constantly toot their own horn. They can't go to a single event without wanting to display how rich they are. Now, I don't care about people wearing nice clothes and jewelry. I secretly admire them sometimes. But do you really need to wear your sequined, 1000-dollar sari and diamond necklace to a funeral and rev your McLaren while picking up your kid? True story, by the way.

I've always felt like the aunties in that group were implicitly jealous of my mom and her life. It makes sense because her life is pretty enviable: she's a well-earning doctor, her husband also earns a large amount of money doing fintech, they both live in a pretty good neighborhood, they're charitable, their daughter was academically successful, and they got lucky with the genetic lottery. They seem like the epitome of the Indian-American dream.

You can't even tell that they take on 300 responsibilities at once.

Because of their subtle jealousies, we've never really felt a part of that group. My mom and dad were constantly subject to passive-aggressiveness, exclusion, and just general ostracizing for no reason. My parents are good people; despite how much they've done, they are some of the most humble people I know. They don't like to make a big splash.

Why do Indian aunties do shit like this? It reeks of internalized misogyny. They say nothing about my dad, but with my mom, it's like all hell breaks loose if she just mentions a surgery she did.

But that's enough ranting for a day. My mom only sticks with them out of obligation and because her best friend in the human world Nandini aunty is in that group, so she's just going because she wants to support her friend. That's it.

"No, I know. But, I think Mysore silk is good for that party! Which one are you wearing?"

"I'm not sure. But for now, I think I'm wearing one of my very old saris. I don't think you've seen it before. I last wore it when I got engaged to Raj," she suggests as I hear rustling of clothes. She must be going through her giant saree cabinet right now.

"I thought I saw all your sarees. The betrayal." The jokes are coming out on their own, I swear! Or maybe my shell around my mom is letting down early. I guess I missed this mom time more than I thought. It almost makes me want to...

No! No, Sarvani. She can't know about this yet. She and Appa still lied to you about what they are and they SPELLED you. They can't know anything until they prove that they're trustworthy again. Fully trustworthy.

"Nope, not this one. It's one of my favorites."

"What color is it?"

"It's baby blue and gray with silver embroidery."

I first acknowledge what she said, just registering what she told me. But as my mind keeps going back to those colors, something clicks.

Light gray and baby blue? Mysore silk?