“Met” is a stretch.
My father was 32. My mother was 21 and had no say in the pairing. It was a shock to her when the man who came to see her was my father. She didn’t understand why her brothers and her father would set her up with a man 11 years older, from a family that was so different from hers. He was a city boy, had traveled to and lived in various parts of India. He enjoyed cheese puffs, knew how to eat with chopsticks and the names of different types of alcohol. She had never ventured too far out of her town of Vellore, had never heard of these foods and alcohol was an unspeakable word.
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If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
