After finals, after the end of school year celebrations and the spring barbeques, I drive to Illinois to start my summer of living with my parents and working at Prairie State Legal Services. I have a few days before my internship begins and I spend it running errands for my mother and grandmother. I spend long afternoons driving around the suburbs of Chicago, stopping at the houses of family friends to drop off mango pickle, pick up pan leaves and Telugu VHS movies that have been copied and re-copied until the movie has a clear picture or a clear sound, but not both. At each house I chit-chat with aunties and they all ask the same question: "When are you getting married?"

After completing my first year in law school, I thought my family would ask me what classes I took, what type of law I want to practice, or maybe what kind of lawyer I want to be. I have answers sketched out for those questions, five-year plans with short and long term goals. At orientation, the dean of students warned us against giving legal advice to friends and family. There were no guidelines in the student handbook about how to respond to prying aunties, maternal pressure, or phone calls from pregnant cousins overseas asking, "What are you waiting for? It's your turn now."