Later, he receives a video clip of the priest chanting his gotra (lineage) and a PDF receipt for tax exemption. He forwards the clip to his mother, who replies with a dozen heart emojis.

In India, the chai wallah is the great equalizer. The clay cup ( kulhad ) crunches underfoot. The ginger burns the throat. For ten rupees and two minutes, time stops. It is November, which means "wedding season" in Delhi. For the Mehra family, it means war—logistical war. Neha, a 29-year-old software analyst living in a PG in Bangalore, receives a voice note from her mother: “Beta, the caterer cancelled. Also, your cousin’s dog is now a flower girl.”

Priya scoffs. “One-fifty.”

The boy takes a bite. He gags, then takes another. “It’s bitter,” he whispers.