Page 131 of Debugging Love

“It’s not as good as my dadi makes. She grinds her spices.”

The flavors, taken alone, are familiar, but the mixture is new, layered, unique.

“I thought you only knew how to cook salmon,” I tease.

“Salmon is easier.”

“You never treat yourself with this?”

“Did you see how long it took? How many pans are dirty now?”

“I got lost in my code. Sorry.”

“Do you ever fix traditional Indiana dishes?”

My mouth is full of water. I struggle not to sputter it all over him, manage to swallow through my laughter without choking. “I’m trying really hard to think of a traditional Indiana dish.”

“Pizza?”

“That’s Italian.”

“Burgers?”

“I think we borrowed that too.” While trying to come up with something, I prop my elbow on the table and twirl my hair. “Have you ever had a pork tenderloin sandwich?”

“Nope.”

I grab my phone, pull up a picture, and show him a breaded pork tenderloin that’s bigger than a plate.

“That’s a whole lot of fried meat on a tiny little bun.”

I shrug. “Only in Indiana. Also, they serve all kinds of fried things at the state fair. Deep fried corn on a stick. Fried Oreos. Fried Twinkies. Nutellaphant Ears.”

“We have to go there.”

“Are there any festivals in Bengaluru where they try to kill you with food?”

“Bengaluru has many jaatres. At Namma Jaatre food stalls sell idlis, ragi mudde, Goli Baje, which are fried. But nothing like fried Oreos, I suspect.”

“What’s Namma Jaatre?”

“It’s a two-day folk festival celebrating the history of Karnataka with crafts and dancers and puppet shows. Dadi always took my sister and me. That’s where Tivri met her husband, Erish. It was love at first sight.” He breaks off a piece of roti and dips it into his bowl.

It all makes sense. “You think they’re soulmates.”

Chance gives me a pointed look. “I don’t think. I know. When they met, Tivri felt a zing and knew he was the one.”

Been there, done that. Didn’t win a prize. “You can’t always trust that little voice.”Because sometimes it lies.I leave out that last part to protect his innocence.

“Why not?” he asks, innocently.

“Sometimes it’s just mutual physical attraction.”

“Which is important in a marriage.”

Chance’s sharp tone and furrowed brow mean he’s very serious about this. I don’t back peddle. “But there has to be more than physical attraction. There has to be trust, respect, commitment.”

“Tivri and Erish have those things.”

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