Dollar Bahu by Sudha Murty Read Free Book Online

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    Gouramma was in seventh heaven. A woman who had never been able to indulge herself and had struggled all her life to make ends meet, was now swimming in a sea of opulence. A thousand dollars, when converted into rupees, was a lot of money. But sharing had never been part of her nature. She was mentally listing all the things that she could buy . . .
    After Chandru’s arrival, Gouramma seemed to forget the kitchen. She wanted to spend every possible minute with her son. Vinuta cheerfully took over all the responsibilities. She understood the feelings of a mother who was meeting her son after such a long time. She also made sure she served snacks and coffee to the numerous guests who dropped in to meet Chandru. She had, in fact, taken leave from her work for that period. Surabhi, on the other hand, when she was at home, was completely preoccupied with the mirror, trying on all the new American cosmetics, or she accompanied Chandru almost everywhere he went.
    Chandru had come home for just three weeks. He wanted to meet his old friends and colleagues. He would have liked to meet his former employer, but he was too embarrassed. His conscience still pricked him for ‘skipping’. He had cheated on a company that had financed his trip and paid for his computer training. But he quickly scotched his inner voice. He rationalized that he was not the only one: several brilliant young men from his poor country had done the same thing to settle in the land of opportunity.
    As soon as word got round that Shamanna’s son was in India, marriage proposals began to pour in. He was a prize catch. Gouramma had shortlisted four girls for Chandru to choose from. One shrewd father, Krishnappa, was a property developer. He had a daughter and a son. He owned a palatial house and three cars. His eye fell on Chandru. When he came to visit Gouramma, he quickly gauged the situation. If the greedy Gouramma was lured, then there would be no problem in finalizing the match. He invited them to his farmhouse.
    Gouramma was thrilled. She went eagerly to see them. Krishnappa and his wife Parvati flaunted their silverware and gold and diamond jewellery, calculated to impress. Their daughter, Jamuna, was an ordinary graduate and spent her time going for painting, ikebana or batik classes. Had it not been for her dusky complexion she would have got even more eligible, good-looking and well-settled grooms. Her visits to beauty clinics had been fruitless. But in an expensive sari, bedecked with jewels, she looked very appealing to Gouramma that day.
    Jamuna was effusively friendly with Surabhi and that made Gouramma very comfortable. When they were leaving, Parvati handed over baskets of vegetables and fruits, saying, ‘The match is not in our hands. But let us at least continue with the cordial relationship.’ Gouramma left with tears in her eyes.
    On the way home, Gouramma silently prayed that her son would choose Jamuna as his bride, and began enumerating her virtues. In the end Shamanna was forced to say, ‘Let Chandru decide.’
    In his heart, Shamanna felt that a bride coming from such a family, used to a wealthy lifestyle, would normally have a large ego. He doubted if she would fit into his middle-class family.
    A few days later, Krishnappa sent his car to pick up Chandru. Chandru went alone. In the light of the chandelier, Jamuna’s diamond studs sparkled. After some initial small talk, Chandru came to the point. ‘I want to be clear about some things. We are from a middle-class family, and as the eldest of the family, I have responsibilities.’
    Jamuna was equally forthright. Bluntly she asked him, ‘Do you plan to settle down in America or do you mean to return sometime?’
    ‘Well, I plan to settle there. But one should be aware that life in America is lonely, as against life in India.’
    ‘One can always make friends.’
    ‘You are the only daughter. If you want to come to visit your parents, it may be very expensive.’
    ‘Oh,