At times, as the laughter at Gerald and Lydia’s table swells, and another bottle of wine is opened, and Gogol raises his glass to be filled yet again, he is conscious of the fact that his immersion in Maxine’s family is a betrayal of his own. It isn’t simply the fact that his parents don’t know about Maxine, that they have no idea how much time he spends with her and Gerald and Lydia. Instead it is his knowledge
I guess this captures what every Indian born in the 1990s, especially the later years, feels.
