Phakta Mulagā Āṇi Nāraḷa Deū!

"My political connections expect a grand wedding," Kedarnath Sardeshmukh argued. "Babulnath is my only son!"

"My engineer son and a coconut. Non-negotiable!" Tulasa Karkhanis shot back. "Your dropout hooligan doesn't even deserve to stand in my Deva's shadow!"

"Trees make shade for others, and stand in the glare themselves ..." Devavrat murmured to his sturdy fiancé under his mother's glare.

"Nānā, isn't there a law against dowry?" Babulnath protested.

"Irrelevant to illegal same-sex marriages!" Kedarnath countered. "Big boy, teaching me wisdom!"

"Nānāsāheba, your convention centre will take a year to build, and I don't have time until I finish building the college," Devavrat reasoned. "We can get married first. An outdoor wedding would be perfect, right, Babul?"

"Right, Deva!" Babulnath grinned at Devavrat, remembering the day he first saw him planting trees along the highway. Confronted for littering, Babulnath had swung a punch at Devavrat. Caught by the hand, flipped onto his back, he had fallen hard.

"Let me explain in language that you'll understand, Honourable MLA," Tulasa condescended. "The Maharashtra Government granted you funds to create jobs building the Trimbak Convention Centre, your campaign promise. If contractors complain to the media that your son squeezes them for bribes, which reach you because the engineer is his husband-to-be, you won't get re-elected. You want progressives to vote for you, right? Then your gay son's marriage needs to happen before rival parties steal the idea."

"Please, Nānā?" Babulnath pleaded.

"All right!" Kedarnath gave in. "We'll exhibit the college site with your wedding."