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Thirty years. Six couples. One diary. Matches are made in heaven. Asha Aunty handles the paperwork.
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Read the first page
Book 1 · Neempur, March 1996
The board went up on Station Road at seven in the morning.
The painter had been up all night, and his fingers were still red. He climbed down the ladder and asked, "Straight, didi?"
Asha crossed the road to look. A cream wooden board with a red border. Big letters in the middle: ASHA MARRIAGE BUREAU. Smaller ones underneath: Where matches are made.
"Straight," she said. "Though I'd have made 'matches' a little bigger."
The painter looked at the board, then at her. "Bigger is extra."
"Then it's exactly the right size."
He laughed and went home to sleep.
Asha was thirty. The painter was the last person in Neempur to call her didi. By lunchtime the whole of Station Road was calling her Asha Aunty, and she did not correct a single one of them. Nobody takes marriage advice from a didi.
She had set up the front room the night before. One steel almirah, with not one file in it yet. One table. Two chairs on this side, two on that. A ceiling fan that squeaked the moment it was switched on. Two pens on the table, a blue one and a red one. And a thick register bound in red cloth.
The register was new. Only its first page had been written on, and Asha had glued that page shut. What it said was nobody's business but hers.
At eight she put the tea on the stove, crushed two pods of elaichi into it, and set out two cups.
Next door, Munna Bhaiya sat outside his cycle shop with a tub of water, hunting for a puncture. He leaned in at her window. "Two cups? Nobody's come yet."
One small town. One marriage bureau. A new couple every few years, and every book closing on one line of "My view" in red ink.
1996 · Book 1
Sudha wanted her B.Ed first. Ajay wanted America first. Both families marched into Asha Aunty's marriage bureau with the same demand: get these two married. Asha Aunty called the two of them in separately and told each the same thing: "Get engaged. Just don't get married."
2003 · Book 2
Two sweet shops faced each other across Neempur's bazaar, and for thirty years they had fought over whose jalebi was the original. Then Rohit came home, and the first thing he did was hang a sign saying "THE ORIGINAL JALEBI" right opposite Kavya's father's shop. Asha Aunty replied the way she always did: with a rishta. The same one, to both houses.
2009 · Book 3
Pooja married the boy from Dubai, and ten days after the wedding Sameer flew back. Then came the Friday nights at the cyber café: a webcam, and a husband in the same shirt every single time. At last Pooja asked Asha Aunty: "If he's an engineer, why is it always the same wall behind him?"
2014 · Book 4
Meenakshi had no intention of marrying again, and she said so not to Asha Aunty but to her fifteen-year-old daughter, Tanvi. That same evening, Tanvi walked into the Asha Marriage Bureau and handed over her mother's biodata.
2020 · Book 5
24 March 2020. Riya's family went to Aditya's house to "see the boy". It was meant to take two hours. That night the country went into lockdown, and the two families spent the next twenty-one days locked in the same house. Every evening Asha Aunty phoned to ask: "So, what happened today?"
2026 · Book 6
In thirty years, Asha Aunty arranged hundreds of matches in Neempur and never one for herself. Then one day a retired schoolmaster stood at the bureau's door with one question: had she ever read his letter? And the five couples she had matched decided that this time they would be the ones doing the matching.
Each book is complete on its own. But Books 1 to 5 each hide a clue to Asha Aunty's own secret, and Book 6 finally says what the register's first page holds.
Entirely fiction
Neempur, the Asha Marriage Bureau and all the families in these books are made up. Any resemblance to real people or places is a coincidence.
Romance, kept clean
Glances, banter, a hand held, at most a kiss on the forehead. Nothing explicit, no innuendo, and no community is ever the obstacle, the joke or the villain. For readers aged 13 and up.
Written with AI, checked by people
We used AI tools to help write the stories, and the cover pictures are AI-made too. Our team reads every book in full before it is printed, and corrects it where needed.
In 1996, Asha Aunty put up a board over the front room of her house on Station Road: Asha Marriage Bureau. On the table, a register bound in red cloth. And always two cups of tea. One for her. One for whoever hasn't walked in yet.
Asha Aunty has one rule: "I don't read biodata. I read people." Who quietly refills the water jug when nobody is watching. Who looks away first. She is usually right, though she never says how.
A fake engagement in 1996. Two feuding sweet shops in 2003. A groom from Dubai and Friday nights on a cyber-café webcam in 2009. A second chance at forty-two in 2014. The 2020 lockdown, with two families stuck in one house. And in 2026, the last match of all: Asha Aunty's own.
The years change. The phones change. What the relatives say never does.
Each book is complete on its own: one couple, one story, one happy ending. Every book opens with an entry from Asha Aunty's register and closes on a "My view", one line in red ink.
But Asha Aunty glued the register's first page shut long ago. What it says is revealed in Book 6. That is why the six come as one set.
Short chapters in warm, easy English, and every chapter ends on a smile or a question, so "one more chapter" becomes one more hour. Every book also carries a map of Neempur and thirty years at a glance: who met whom, and when.
Chapter 1 is above. Read it, then ask yourself: why did Asha Aunty invite both families at exactly the same time?
Hundreds of matches.
Never her own.
Station Road, Neempur. Asha Marriage Bureau, since 1996.
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