"Milk in India tastes bad," I said.
I was still suffering from jet-lag. Sai and Ravi maamaa got better within a week. I slept through the morning and roamed around the house at night. Well, I have lived in Canada my whole life and the time difference is nine and half hours.
I stayed awake till noon, that is the farthest I have managed so far, and slept till midnight. My aunt Lakshmi prepared late-night breakfast and lunch for me.
"You must be kidding! We have our milk delivered to us directly from a farm. The type where happy cows run across green fields in real life, not just in carton covers," said Sai in outrage.
"Something is off. I am telling you, it tastes raw."
"Did you drink it directly out of the bottle?"
"Yes, how else am I supposed to drink?"
Sai laughed out loud, "It is raw milk, idiot."
"What? You buy unpasteurized milk, it's illegal."
"No, not in India. You have to boil your milk before drinking."
Many things which were considered perfectly normal by Sai, came as a revelation to me. I still couldn't forget the fright Shivani (Sai's elder sister) gave me. It was midnight to me (evening for the rest of the Indians), as I went down to the kitchen to fetch water. Shivani came into the house, though I didn't know it was her then.
All I saw was a person, who had covered their entire face with a cloth. The only part visible was their eyes, even though it was covered by huge sunglasses. Also the stranger wore a glove that extended past his/her elbow, almost reaching the shoulder.
I screamed. The fully hooded figure approached me faster. I screamed even louder. My aunt Lakshmi and most of the neighbors came running. Soon it was revealed that the hooded figure was my cousin, and it was entirely normal for girls in Chennai (a South Indian city) to do it. Most girls cover-up like this to protect their skin from being tanned. I still get frightened when I see her like that, she looks like a bloody terrorist to me.
"It's difficult to get admissions in school, even though I offered a hefty donation, they insist they will conduct an examination of the first term syllabus and admit you if you scored above 70% in a week," said Ravi maamaa.
"Maamaa, I am good but not that good."
Schools in India start by June as it was September. The first term was nearly complete. Some schools didn't have a summer holiday for the senior year but continued teaching them so all students could score high marks. And the problem was Ravi maamaa was trying to admit me to one such school.
"Maamaa, I don't mind going to grandma's house. Grandpa promised he already spoke to the Headmaster and they are ready to accept me."
"Anu, you don't understand. Here you can find tutors easily for every subject and you need to prepare for NEET too."
Ravi maamaa didn't get along with my grandparents. When my mom eloped and married my dad, Ravi maamaa being an angry young man, broke my father's leg. My grandparents never forgave him for breaking their son's leg.
"I will be fine maamaa, I will try that school. If things don't workout, I don't mind taking a year off."
Ravi maamaa frowned but said nothing.
"I am sure you will be fine," Sai said in his usual flat tone. I wasn't sure whether he really meant it or was being sarcastic.
My grandparents were extremely happy to hear that I will come live with them. Sai visited me the night before our departure.
"Anu, I have to warn you before you leave for your grandparents'" he talked so seriously he scared the shit out of me.
"Warn me of what?"
"Well! Things are different here from Canada."
"I already know that!"
"No you don't understand what I am saying."
"Are you doing this to scare me?"
He laughed at that and said, "Yes, partially, but I also care about you. If I didn't tell you before you left, it would definitely make me a dork."
"You are a dork, even if you tell me whatever you want to tell"
Sai ignored my comment as he continued, "The point is you are heading to live in a village. Things are different there. Imagine it's like the 18th century, but far worse."
"What do you mean far worse? Do they take part in witch burning or something?"
He laughed at that. "No silly!"
"What could be worse than witch burning?"
"Well it will ruin your reputation in the village if you so much as hold a guy's hand in public."
"In public?"
"You can bang all the men you like, if you can get away with it secretly. Simply put, everyone will be a heightened version of Devika aunty."
I smiled, "Don't worry I have survived Devika aunty, this wouldn't be a problem. And I don't bang every man!"
"Yes! A point, I must agree seeing that we haven't banged 'yet'!" He emphasised.
"You are the worst flirt!"
"Nothing wrong in trying, darling."
"Thanks! But no thanks!"