Bengaluru Dude - Fat, Bald, thick glasses => becomes ladies man | Incest

[ashuezy2]

My name is Senthil, and I am 33 years old. Yes, thirty-three. And look at me fat, bald, and with these thick glasses always slipping down my nose.

I always dreamed of being with a beautiful woman, you know? Like in the movies. But my genes, they just said, "Nope, not for you, Senthil."

I live in Bangalore, in a simple, middle-class house. My Mummy and Papa, they both work in SBI bank. Mummy, she's 49 now. Can you believe it? She was only 16 when I was born. Papa is 54. He smokes like a chimney, always puffing away. Sometimes I wonder if that's why I turned out like this, you know? But at least I am fair, and my skin is smooth. That's something, no?

We have a huge family. Like a whole cricket team of cousins. Let me tell you about them.

My Family Tree:

• From Mummy's side (my mother, Jayashree's sister and brother's kids):
  • Aunty Lakshmi's kids:
    • Deepa (31, girl)
      
    • Rakesh (29, boy)
      
    • Priya (27, girl)
      
  • Uncle Suresh's kids:
    • Anil (30, boy)
      
    • Shanti (28, girl)
      
• From Papa's side (my father, Kumar's sister and brother's kids):
  • Aunty Radha's kids:
    • Vijay (32, boy)
      
    • Kavita (30, girl)
      
  • Uncle Ravi's kids:
    • Meena (29, girl)
      
    • Ganesh (28, boy)
      
    • Suman (26, girl)
      

See? Ten cousins! And guess what? All of them are unmarried. And I, Senthil, am the eldest of the lot. The big brother.
In our family, marrying cousins is very normal. Not just normal, it's like a tradition, almost. The elders always say, "Why bring a stranger into the family when we have good blood right here?" It keeps the property in the family, they say. And everyone knows each other, so there are no big surprises. It's a very practical arrangement, they always explain.
One evening, after dinner, Mummy called me to the living room. Papa was there, reading his newspaper, but I knew he was listening.

Jayashree: Senthil, come here, beta. We need to talk.
I knew this tone. This was the "arranged marriage" talk tone. My heart started thumping like a drum solo.

Senthil: Yes, Mummy?
I sat down on the sofa.

Kumar: (Lowering his newspaper slightly) Your mother has something important to say. Listen carefully.

Jayashree: Senthil, you are 33 now. All your cousins... they are waiting for you to get married first. You are the eldest, no?
I just nodded, looking at my chappals. Waiting for me? More like waiting for me to get out of the way.

Jayashree: We have been talking with your Aunties and Uncles. Everyone agrees. It's time.
My stomach did a flip. Here it comes.

Senthil: Time for what, Mummy?
I already knew the answer, but I had to ask.

Jayashree: Time for you to choose a wife, beta. From our family.
I could feel Papa's eyes on me, even though he was pretending to read.

Jayashree: We have three good girls. Deepa from Lakshmi's side, Kavita from Radha's side, and Meena from Ravi's side. All good girls, Senthil. Well-educated. Good family.

I closed my eyes for a second. Deepa, Kavita, Meena. I knew them all. We grew up together. We played carrom together. And now, one of them was supposed to be my wife?

Senthil: Mummy, but...

Jayashree: No 'buts', Senthil. This is how it is done in our family. It's for your own good. They will take care of you. And you, you will take care of them. It's a settled matter.
I looked around the familiar room. The old wooden cabinet, the faded photos on the wall. My whole life, everything was settled. My job, my house, my food. And now, my wife. It was like a script already written.

Senthil: Can I... can I think about it, Mummy?

Jayashree: Of course, beta. But don't think too much. Good things don't wait forever. We will arrange for you to meet all three properly next week. One by one. Then you can tell us your choice.
Papa finally put his newspaper down. He looked at me with a serious, unblinking gaze.

Kumar: Do your duty, Senthil. It is important for the family.
I just sat there, the weight of the family, the weight of my own body, pressing down on me. Marry a cousin. This was my destiny, it seemed. My genetic lottery didn't give me looks, but it gave me family expectations thicker than my glasses.

My mind started to race, picturing Deepa's quiet smile, Kavita's quick wit, Meena's shy eyes. Which one? Which one would be my wife? And more importantly, would any of them actually want me, Senthil, the fat, bald, spectacled eldest cousin?
This was going to be tougher than a tough idli.