Telugu original: Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy
Translated by Rajeshwar Mittapalli

That day Vijay was on his way to the office when his phone rang. The number on the screen was unfamiliar. He felt no inclination to answer, yet curiosity about who might be calling tugged at him, and he said, “Hello.” A girl’s voice came from the other end at once.

“Hello! I’m Priya. You came to our house the other day for pelli choopulu, remember? I am that girl.”

For a few seconds Vijay had no idea who was speaking. His mind felt blank. Then the words “You came to our house the other day” slid into place and he recalled who she must be.

“All right, Priya, tell me. Why have you called?” he asked.

“Nothing much, Vijay garu. Our pelli choopulu felt very casual to me. That is why I thought I’d like to meet you once and talk properly. Before we take any decision about marriage, if the two of us open our hearts and speak to each other, we can understand one another better. That’s how it seems to me. What do you say? That’s why I rang,” she replied.

Vijay remained silent for a short while. “I have no objection. Tell me when and where you want to meet,” he said.

“Can you come near my office this evening after you finish at your office? Our office is not too far from yours. You ring me before you come and I’ll come out. Then we can sit in a park nearby and talk,” Priya said.

“Okay. I’ll come after five in the evening and call you,” he said, and ended the call. After that he thought about her, and about yesterday’s pelli choopulu, all the way as he headed out to the office.

Two years earlier Vijay had passed B.Tech and entered a software job through campus placement. he worked in a multinational company and drew a very good salary. From the time he joined, his father had pushed him to get married at once. Vijay kept putting it off with the excuse, “I’ll marry after my sister’s wedding.”

Six months earlier his sister, who worked as a teacher, had got married. After that he could no longer object to his own marriage with that excuse, and he found no fresh reason to hold it back. He therefore did not resist his father’s efforts to find a match. A couple of proposals arrived, but they stalled at the horoscope stage. His father then paused the search for some months.

A month ago his father’s friend had mentioned another match. The girl too was a software engineer and, on top of that, had done B.Tech at NIT. Her name was Madhuri Priya. Her father worked at the Collector’s office. Photographs went back and forth at once, both families liked what they saw, the horoscopes matched, and three days ago the pelli choopulu took place. Vijay had gone to her house with his parents and sister and had seen her. On that day, with all the elders about, he had felt too shy to ask for time alone with her, and so he never found an opportunity to speak with her in private.

When he came home, his people asked what he wished to say to them. Vijay had not known what answer to give, and he pushed the question aside with “I’ll tell you later.” Afterwards, he decided that he would first hear the girl’s views and then announce his  decision only then. That chance had not come.

Now the girl herself had called and suggested that they meet. A small hope rose in him that this problem might actually find some solution. With that in mind he set out for the office.

Everything unfolded as he had imagined. At five in the evening he shut down his system at work and went out to meet Madhuri Priya, using the current location she had shared. He reached the area near her office. She was already on the roadside, waiting for him.

She saw him and said, “Hi,” with a quick smile. Vijay returned the greeting and parked his bike by the compound wall of her office.

“Come on then, where shall we go? The park you mentioned?” he asked.

“The park is nearby, but let’s go to the canteen. We can have coffee and talk there. The park is crowded at this time and there will no privacy,” Priya replied.

Vijay truly looked at her from close quarters for the first time. During the pelli choopulu his parents had sat beside him, and his shyness had kept him from looking properly. Now she stood in front of him in a rose coloured Punjabi dress. Her face looked milky white, her plait long, a string of jasmine in her hair spread fragrance like sunlight, and her slim waist made her look like a painted doll.

Good heavens, she’s a real beauty. Only now that I’m this close can I see it properly, he thought.

He did not speak for a few moments, and she tilted her head.

“What’s this? Why are you so quiet? Are you shy?” she asked.

“Oh, not at all. We’ve only just met, haven’t we? I don’t know what to say yet, that’s all. Silence is the best answer for all questions. Smiling is the best reaction to all situations—I read that somewhere. I’ve just realised how true it is,” Vijay said with a laugh.

By then they had reached the canteen. It looked clean. Hardly anyone sat inside. Priya walked to a table in the far corner and took a seat. Vijay joined her and sat opposite. After a minute or two a waiter came over for their order. Priya asked for samosas and coffee.

“Tell me—where did you do your college?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“I did my engineering degree at AU and my M.Tech at IIT Mumbai,” Vijay said.

“At the IIT? Great! I wanted to study at IIT too, but I did not get a seat. That’s why I joined NIT,” Priya said.

“Not great at all. I studied  my degree at AU itself, and PG at IIT. A degree from there has value. You are the one who is great. You did your degree at NIT,” Vijay replied.

“Fine, whose degree is greater does not matter now. Do you have any plans to go to America?” Priya asked.

“I don’t even like this software job. I’m in it only because it came through campus. I’m preparing for Civils. If I get selected there, I shall leave this. I have no wish at all to go to America. I can’t bear the thought of leaving my parents here all alone. If you want to go to America, you must tell me now. Otherwise one day we may have to face problems,” Vijay said.

“That is exactly why I called you, you know. We must talk through these things. If everything suits us both, we shall go ahead. All right? Tell me this—after marriage will your parents live with us?” Priya asked.

“No. We have a big house and some land in our village. My parents will stay there. I go there every month. If they ever decide to stay with us, would you object?” Vijay asked.

“Oh, not at all. I only wanted to know. Tell me about your hobbies. First I shall tell you about mine and my opinions. I love music. I read books. I like to be modern. Traditions don’t appeal to me much. I don’t like male domination. I believe women and men are equal, and I prefer men who respect women. I dislike any bossing from my in laws’ side. I don’t like a husband who uses the word ‘husband’ as a licence to control me. Now tell me your hobbies and your views,” Priya said.

“Wow. Your hobbies are fine, but your opinions are really strong,” Vijay said with a chuckle.

“What! You don’t like them?”

“I didn’t say that. Your opinions are yours. I don’t have many hobbies. I go walking in the mornings, I play shuttle, I listen to good music, I read books, and I enjoy spending time in our fields watching the beauty of nature. In one sense you could say I’m not modern at all. I’m a proper village guy—think about that. I hold a great deal of respect for women. I believe women and men are equal. But you say women and men are equal and then you add that women must be respected. That sounds a bit strange to me. The two points pull in different directions,” Vijay said.

“Does that mean you dislike me being modern, wearing modern clothes, going to pubs and clubs?” Priya asked, wide eyed.

“What! You go to pubs and clubs? You don’t look that type at all. Anyway, I’ve heard that middle class people don’t go anywhere near such places. I said I’m not modern. I didn’t say I am against modernity. That means there’s no problem. I won’t stand in the way of your freedom,” he answered with another easy laugh.

“Your words surprise me. I thought my views would make you angry. But you are taking it very lightly and sportively and throwing me off balance,” Priya said.

“In our grandfathers’ time women hardly studied. That is why men ruled the household. Things are different now. Women and men study together, so that trouble ought not to arise,” Vijay said.

“Do you drink alcohol? Do you smoke? Do you have any such habits? Have you got any girl friends?” she asked, with her eyes wide.

“First tell me whether you would approve if I had those habits,” he said, grinning.

“Why talk about what I like? Just answer me—do you have them or not?”

“I don’t have such habits. I’m like that Ramudu manchi baludu—Ramu is a good boy—people talk about. I don’t have any girlfriends. You’re the first girl I’ve ever spoken to like this, and it is happening now,” he said, laughing again.

“All right. What about varakatnam—dowry? Do you expect any dowry?” Priya asked.

“My parents aren’t the sort who demand dowry. We didn’t offer dowry for my sister either. We shouldn’t even discuss such matters. Family elders deal with them,” Vijay said.

“You say elders will deal with them. If they take money without telling you, will you still be all right with it?”

“I didn’t mean it in that sense. Matters of give and take lie with the elders. We ought to talk about our likes and habits. That’d be better. Why did you ask about dowry at all? I thought no educated people demand it these days. At the most they insist on a grand wedding. Are you against varakatnam?” Vijay asked, laughing.

“Yes. My question is why girls must give dowry to get husbands. You and I have studied the same courses, we do the same sort of work, and I earn on a similar level. When everything is same, why should we offer dowry to you?” Priya’s voice had turned sharp.

Vijay fell quiet and did not answer at once. Then he began to speak.

“Priya garu, your elder brother married last year, didn’t he? My friend’s sister became his bride. You people took ten lakhs in dowry from them and twenty tulas of gold as well. My friend’s father himself told us when we came to see you. He is also the one who brought your match to us. Given all this, how can you say that you dislike dowry and question why it should be given? I wonder whether you knew all this. That is why I said such matters must be left to the elders. In any case, we aren’t like that. My family—my father in particular—has no taste for dowry. You need not worry about that at all. It’s better if we don’t discuss such matters. All right then. You now know everything about me. Let’s do this. After a week, if I like you, I shall send a message and, if you like me, you send one. If there is no interest, we shall not message at all. If no message is received, it means there is no wish to continue. Okay?” he said, getting to his feet.

Priya sat frozen for a few moments. She had not known that her father had taken dowry for her brother’s marriage. She had thrown that topic at Vijay without that knowledge and made a fool of herself in front of him. She did not know how she should to answer him. She got up in silence. They walked out and went their separate ways.

A week rolled by. Priya expected a message from Vijay, and Vijay expected one from her. When nothing happened by the end of the week, He pushed the entire matter to the back of his mind.

One Friday, after finishing his work at the office, he stepped out, took his bike, and headed home. When he reached the road outside, he saw Priya standing there.

“Hi, Priya garu. You didn’t send a message, so I assumed you weren’t interested and I didn’t send one either,” Vijay said, startled yet amused, as he walked up to her.

“What! If you were interested, you could’ve sent a message yourself. Do you expect us girls to send you messages in such matters as well? Is it male domination here too?” Priya asked, glaring.

He did not see plain anger in her face. He saw hurt—and a sharp flare of outrage.

“Forget the business of messages. Do you like me or not? That is what matters. I’m not the one who has to feel pleased. A girl as pretty as you—who on earth would not like you?” he said, grinning.

“If I didn’t like you, why would I come here?” Priya asked, her lips pushed into a sulky pout.

“What if I said I wanted dowry?” Vijay asked, still laughing.

“That’s exactly what I came to talk about. You were right about the dowry. My father and others at home took dowry for my brother’s marriage. He never told me because he knew I wouldn’t approve of it. They accepted it. I have no right now to tell you not to take dowry. Please forgive me in this matter. I came only to admit that,” she said and turned away.

“Priya, just a minute—”

“A great marriage is not when the perfect couple comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences,” Vijay said. “I read that somewhere. It fits the two of us exactly.”

“If your father and others in your family took dowry, how can it be your fault? Let’s put that topic aside. I like you. You like me too, don’t you? Come on, hop on. I’ll drop you near your house. Very soon, the marriage of Priya and Vijay will take place—grand and colourful, yet simple at heart. All right?” he added with a wide smile.

Priya matched his smile, climbed onto the bike, and held on to him. There were no boundaries now for their happiness. From somewhere in the distance, a song began to float on the air: “When a pair meets, at that moment… the bell peals in the temple…”

“When a Couple Met” (titled “Oka Janta Kalisina Tarunana” in Telugu) by Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy was first published in Usha fortnightly, May 15, 2026.

Translated into English by Rajeshwar Mittapalli.

Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy was born in the agraharam of Kusumuru near Bobbili in the present day Vizianagaram district. He holds an M.Tech in Civil Engineering and retired as Additional General Manager from a Railway Public Sector Undertaking—this background gives his fiction a firm grounding in contemporary life. He has written 42 novels, about 780 short stories, a technical book in English for railway engineers, and many essays. His novels include Matti Manushulu, Ankuram, Thoorpu Sandhyaragam, Sindhuram, Swarnamayuram, and Aranyam. His essays appeared in Dhwaja Sthambhalu and Manchi Cinemalu—his readers value his steady attention to social awareness and human relationships. His short story collections include Gandham Chettu, Thoorpu Padamara, Udutha Bhakti, Galivana, Veena Vedanam, Gamyam, Aksharabhayasam, Matti Vasana, and Pichuka Meeda Brahmastram. His tenth and most recent collection, Gannavarapu Narasimha Murthy Kathalu, gathers twenty five stories that previously appeared in periodicals, grew from real incidents, and probe social conscience and human bonds. It also includes award winning pieces such as “Erra Pavuram” and “Saraswati Namasthubhyam,” which underscore religious tolerance and education, respectively.