Chapters (40)
- Cover
- Also by Saumya Dave
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Acknowledgments
- Readers Guide
- Discussion Questions
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Bina turns into the neighborhood. Laurel Lakes. Such a placid name for the placid woman whose blue-shuttered house is on the last cul-de-sac. Bina passes the swimming pool and tennis courts. Hydrangea bushes line manicured front yards. A couple is walking with their golden retriever and baby. Ahead of them, there’s a woman wearing sunglasses and shimmery sweatpants Bina knows are from Lululemon because Suhani has a similar pair.
The woman slows down and peers at her. “Bina?”
“Mona!” Bina rolls down the window and tells Suhani to hold on. “How are you?”
Mona is one of the five “Real Indian Housewives of Duluth,” a nickname she gave her group of friends after she learned some of the actual Real Housewives of Atlanta lived in their neighborhood. The Real Indian Housewives of Duluth stand apart from other Gujarati wives for their extravagant taste in saris, elaborate parties, and modern grooming practices inspired by their neighbors or children: colored contacts, light brown highlights, tattooed makeup, intricate nail art. Anita, Mira, and Kavita preferred not to socialize with them too much, but Bina appreciates their openness and honesty, the conviction with which they navigate everything from their daily dramas to bigger decisions. She finds their lack of phoniness (and, sometimes, lack of politeness) refreshing. With the sheer number of South Asians in Atlanta, it’s possible for people to break off into their select homogenous groups—the Gujaratis, Punjabis, Sikhs, Parsis—but Bina’s always felt there should be more opportunities that bring them all together.
“Are you doing okay?” Mona leans on Bina’s car. “I heard about Natasha and Karan.”
“Eh, what can you do?” Bina shrugs. “I’m fine. I’m not sure if Anita is, though.”
That’s another thing Bina likes about Mona: she comes out and shares what she’s thinking instead of dancing around it or pretending not to know.
“It’s a hard situation, though. I’ve always gotten the sense Anita defines herself by what her kids do, you know?” Mona removes her sunglasses.
There are two types of women from their generation in India: the ones who were forced into tradition and the ones who naturally embraced it. Bina’s only realizing now that she is in the former group while Anita is in the latter. While marriage and motherhood made Anita fold inward, Bina became less private, more willing to be seen. She always thought their differences made them complement each other. Obviously she was wrong. She was wrong about so many things.
“All our kids say things, do things, that upset us. It’s not such a big deal! And I’m sure she isn’t judging you in the midst of all this,” Mona offers.