He Is Just Like That

At his niece’s engagement, in a hall in Secunderabad, Mohan is where he usually is at these events, which is on a chair near the wall, holding a plate he is not eating from. He has spoken to everyone he is required to speak to. When the cousins burst into laughter across the room he smiles in their direction, a second late. A brother-in-law comes over and says, come on, join us, why so serious, and Mohan says something dry about the caterer that is actually quite funny, and the brother-in-law laughs and goes back.

“Don’t mind him,” someone says. “He’s always been like that.”