The week after he placed the advertisement in the India Today matrimonial pages, he received fifty-six requests. Not all, of course, had paid the $200 he charged through PayPal. But twenty-one had. He did a criminal background check of the ten men and eleven women. He ran their credit histories and sent the reports:
Dear Sir:
It gives me great pleasure to report that the match for your daughter/son should proceed as planned. My investigation has revealed no character flaws in the intended.
If you need further assistance, please advise. I should note that I also offer astrology guidance in selecting the date/ place for marriages, children, and the like.
With the astrology business and now the Matrimony Investigating Agency up and running, things were looking good. Raj treated himself to a masala dosa at India Grill. “Add more mirshe,” he always reminded them, or else the dosa lacked the requisite zing. He relished the spiced potatoes and the sweet masala tea. All around, families, business people, and ladies sat and gossiped, some in English, some in Punjabi, and some in Gujarati. Almost everyone was Indian. Why, he sometimes thought, Queens is more Indian than India. He took out some quarters, left two as a tip, and went to the register to pay.
It was a Saturday; he would sit and wait for any walk-in business. He headed into the Sari Palace, past the mannequins in langas and saris, nodded his greeting to the ladies setting up the register, and up the stairs to his office. It was best not to speak to them, he had realized, or else they’d draw him into their gossip. Then he’d have to listen to the not-so-subtle suggestions about some cousin or niece who was ready to marry, who cooked so well and sang beautifully. Would you like to see her photo? Best to avoid the tedious talk.
The walls of his second-floor office were bare but for three posters of the most beautiful woman who had ever lived, the 1950s Indian film star, Meena Kumari. When he procured the lease to the office, he had allowed himself the extravagance of taking some publicity photos he’d had since his teens to the copy center and enlarging them. Her gaze never escaped his.
He flicked on the neon Open sign in his window, under a hand-lettered one that read, Vedic Astrology, and checked his e-mail.
He scanned the few requests for matrimonial character checks. One e-mail caught his eye:
Dear Sir,
I am in urgent need of your investigative skills. Tell me, are you based in New York? I need a full report on a person living there who has entangled my son. I must get a full dossier on the woman in question to save my son from this match. Please advise as to your services and fees.
Raj read the e-mail over several times and mulled the “full dossier” request. What should be the quote for such a report? $400? This one doesn’t want a report that reassures him that his child will be fine coming to America and marrying his intended. He wants dirt. The salacious detail of depravity. That she drinks, smokes, and dances.
He responded:
Dear Sir,
Thank you kindly for your request. The services you require can be had for a fee of $340. Please supply details, names, date of birth, and the like for the girl in question. Please use PayPal to arrange these transactions.
Within ten minutes, he received confirmation of a payment and a name: Ritu Rani. Ritu Rani? He smiled and dug through the stack of Little India magazines on his desk, finding the one from four months ago. There she was on the cover: Miss Little India, Queens 2006 — Ritu Rani. He remembered every curve of her delicate body. She was back in his life again.
He waited two days before responding:
Dear Sir,
I am saddened to inform you that Ritu Rani is of questionable moral character. She has been known to smoke, and further, participate in beauty contests. She was awarded the title of Miss Little India after performing a dance on the stage. Her sign is one of a woman with much ambition and greed. I would advise avoiding further alliance between your son and her.
Within minutes of sending his report, he received a most pleasant offer.
I am disappointed to hear of the adventures of the lady in question. However, these facts of smoking, beauty pageants, and dancing in public will not dissuade my son, as he has come under her spell. Please consider an extensive investigation with more meaty facts. MONEY IS NO OBJECT.
This time it was signed with the full name: Manny Sharma.
“Lakshmi, praise be to you,” Raj said out loud. Manny Sharma. The Manny Sharma needs his services. How fortunate is his cusp. He must do his horoscope to see what other good karma is coming his way. Manny Sharma needs him. A wayward only-son entangled with a woman. Well, one man’s bad luck is another’s good fortune.
Dear Mr. Sharma,
Thank you very much for your kind e-mail regarding the plight of your son. Of course, as a man who values the auspiciousness of marriage, I can understand your deep concern. This is an unfortunate set of circumstances. God willing, I will be of assistance to you. Kindly send me your son’s vitals, date of birth, time of birth, and of course his current address. I will never let him suspect that I am in any way involved with his affairs. I will simply ascertain, based upon my understanding of human nature, what set of facts will dissuade him from pursuing this unholy alliance.
My hourly rate for this in-depth work will be $95 US. Please advise how much time you wish for me to devote to this investigation.
Raj read his work over with care and wondered whether the $95 was high enough to show his worthiness but not too high to make him seem greedy. He changed it to $85 before sending the e-mail.
Raj was so pleased with himself that he left right away for some paan. It was important to sweeten one’s mouth at good news so that it would linger longer. He walked to the corner of 74th Street and Roosevelt Avenue. Vinod had set up a paan stand inside the sweet store. Raj came here a few times a week, as nothing was as satisfying as the taste of a freshly made paan. As Vinod wrapped the betel leaf and added areca nut and mineral lime, then sprinkled some spices, sweet mixture, and whatnot, they chatted. But Vinod was always looking for some free advice. What’s an auspicious date for buying stock? Good dates for traveling? Today Vinod wanted to know about his sister’s marriage. What good dates are coming? Nothing annoyed Raj more. Astrology was an ancient and sacred art. It required precise calculations. It was not gossip material. But he loved paan, and Vinod was the only game in town, so he held his tongue and gave general information. “Well, till the eclipse on the thirteenth, not good to set the date.” He finally got the paan, plopped it in his mouth, and chewed.
As he walked back to his office, he stopped at the DVD store at the corner of 37th Road to see what latest Hindi movies they had. All the usual trash. He rented two and headed to his office, feeling satisfied that now his moment had come and Manny Sharma himself would be the vessel.