The novel is a modern retelling ofPride and Prejudiceset in a Muslim community in Toronto.
Khalid Mirza sat at the breakfast bar of his light-filled kitchen, long legs almost reaching the floor.
His patience was rewarded.
Credit: Cole Burston
She stumbled but caught herself, skidding to a stop in front of an aging sedan.
She put the mug on the hood of the car and unlocked the door.
Yet his eyes returned for a second, wistful look.
Berkley
She was so beautiful.
The sound of Bollywood music blaring from a car speaker made the young woman freeze.
She peered around her Toyota Corolla to see a red Mercedes SLK convertible zoom into her driveway.
Khalid watched as the young woman dropped to a crouch behind her car.
Who was she hiding from?
He leaned forward for a better look.
What are you looking at, Khalid?
asked his mother, Farzana.
When he looked up again, the young woman and her canvas satchel were inside the Toyota.
Her red travel mug was not.
Khalid laughed out loud.
When he looked up, he caught his mothers stern gaze.
Its such a lovely day outside, Farzana said, giving her son a hard look.
I can see why your eyes are drawn to the view.
Khalid flushed at her words.
Ammi had been dropping hints lately.
She thought it was time for him to marry.
He had a steady job, and twenty-six was a good age to settle down.
Their family was wealthy and could easily pay for the large wedding his mother wanted.
I have begun the search for your wife, Farzana announced, and her tone brooked no opposition.
Love comes after marriage, not before.
These Western ideas of romantic love are utter nonsense.
Just look at the American divorce rate.
Khalid paused mid-bite, but his mother didnt notice.
Her announcement was surprising, but the news was not unexpected or even unwelcome.
I will find you the perfect wifemodest, not too educated.
If we cant find someone local, we will search for a girl back home.
Back home for Farzana was Hyderabad, India, though she had lived in Canada for over thirty years.
Their new neighbourhood had felt instantly comfortable.
From the moment theyd arrived, Khalid felt as if he had finally come home.
Farzana neatly flipped another paratha flatbread onto her sons plate, though he had not asked for more.
The wedding will be in July.
Everyone will want an invitation, but I will limit the guest list to six hundred people.
Any more is showing off.
Khalids eyes lingered on the chipped forest-green mug on the counter.
Ammi had used that mug for his Abbas chai for years.
This was the first time he had seen it out of the cupboard since the move.
There was so much of the past they did not talk about.
Khalid was relieved she was thinking about the future.
Or rather, his future.
The idea of an arranged marriage had never bothered Khalid.
Romantic relationships and their accompanying perks were for marriage only.
At the thought of romantic perks, Khalids attention drifted to the window once morebut he stopped himself.
The girl with the (broken) red mug would never be more than a fantasy.
