Monday, November 13 2000
Father-In-Law Meeting Was Quite A Trip
Melvin DuraiMelvin Durai is a Pennsylvania-based writer and humorist. Born in Tamil Nadu, India, he grew up in Zambia and moved to the U.S. in the early 1980s. In 1995, while working as a reporter for a daily newspaper in Chambersburg, Pa., he began writing a regular humor column. His weekly column now appears in several newspapers and on a number of Web sites. He also writes a twice-monthly column on Indian and Indian-American issues. He is a diehard fan of the National Football League and also likes to run, lift weights and play soccer, tennis and pool. An award-winning feature writer and aspiring novelist, he plans to publish a collection of his best columns. You can write to him at comments@melvindurai.com To read his older columns, go to http://www.humor.melvin.com
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In the hit movie "Meet the Parents," Ben Stiller
plays a Chicago nurse named Greg Focker who
has a miserable time trying to win the approval of
his girlfriend’s controlling father, Jack Byrnes
(Robert De Niro). Thankfully, in my real-life
version of the movie, my new father-in-law (let’s
call him Mr. R) wasn’t quite as oppressive. In fact,
on at least one occasion, he smiled at me. Right
after I served him a bowl of ice cream.
Actually, Mr. R was downright charming,
considering he had flown halfway around the
world and was still adjusting to a strange country
where people drive on the right side of the road.
Attending his oldest daughter Malathi’s wedding,
he had left India for the first time in his life and
must have felt a little lost, especially when he
went to McDonald’s and couldn’t find any McRice
and Curry. "French fries? I do not want french
fries. Do you have any french rice?"
I met my prospective parents-in-law (and
sister-in-law) two days before the wedding and
had barely enough time to explain to Mr. R, as a
way of joining his family, what I want for
Christmas. Malathi had driven her family from
Indiana to Delaware, a 12-hour trip that
expanded to around 20, largely because
Mr. R wanted to take more breaks than a state
worker. He was concerned about traveling such a
long distance in a car, partly because American roads
look so different from those in India. Roads here
have a lot more cars and a lot fewer cows. In fact,
the only time a cow ends up on an American road
is when a careless motorist tosses out a
half-eaten burger.
It didn’t help that Mr. R was feeling rather sick,
even before he met me. Needless to say, our first
days together weren’t exactly magical, though the
honeymoon did give me a chance to perform a
disappearing act. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. R.
Please excuse me while I disappear with your
daughter. Yes, she wants to go, too. We’re going
to Cape May, New Jersey. No, Mr. R, I can’t go
alone. It’s called a honeymoon, not a lonelymoon.
I need my honey on the honeymoon. Why?
Because she often gives me something I value
a lot: driving directions."
Once the honeymoon was over, I spent a few
days with my family-in-law, before they returned to
India. Malathi and I took them shopping, an
unforgettable experience. Mr. R couldn’t help
converting prices to rupees, the Indian currency.
With a dollar equal to almost 50 rupees, Mr. R
was absolutely certain that American shoppers
are being robbed BLIND. We shopped at Dollar
Express, where most things cost a dollar, but
Mr. R would have preferred to shop at Dime
Express. At a Chinese restaurant, he was
reluctant to order an $18 dish, knowing that,
with Rs. 900 in India, he could have fed a family
of 18. As well as their cows.
I tried to persuade him not to convert everything,
partly because I didn’t want him to think his
wasteful son-in-law spends Rs. 1,000 on a
haircut. I was afraid he might also try to convert
me -- into an ex-son-in-law.
But he seemed to like me and I liked him, too. In
fact, when we said good-bye, he gave me a kiss
on the cheek. He had already given me a gold
bracelet and a few other gifts, but the kiss
meant more to me. It was worth at least 50 kisses
in India.
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