It's my wedding after all!

…I have to have the last word!

Archive for wedding

Mother and Mother-in-law

Where was I yesterday, you ask?

Dude, read the title again!!!!!

Need I say more?? Oh yes…

I hope neither my mom nor to be mother-in-law, EVER read this!!!

(probability is anyway zero to nil as neither of them are net Savvy, SO for the moment I am safe! phew!)

Now as to what happened yesterday. Mother-in-law calls me to tell me, she is in town (ever since I’ve declared I am getting married, people somehow jus manage to BE IN TOWN). Well and naturally since we have just initiated our process of bonding, mother-in-law wants to strengthen the foundation by spending a couple of heart-to-heart hours… at MY place!

So I actually risk my client’s wrath, my bosses wrath and absolutely everybody related to work’s wrath, cut short my working day and rush home. No, no, mother-in-law was coming only for dinner, but I had to make the house look  presentable!

So there I am in my washed out Levis and (sigh) Benetton aquamarine top, rushing round hiding booze bottles and dumping photographs far out of ‘a couple of hours’ reach. I did not want her picking through my past personal life for excuses to call off the wedding. I was not sure whether she was capable of such acts, but was being safe anyway.

And mom calls up and I tell her mom-in-law is coming and she asks me “Why?”

“Because…” I said juggling the washed glasses and struggling to arrange them in an appealing display, “She is in town!”

Mom launched into her expected speech of things I ought not to discuss with my mother-in-law. Right, as if I was about to discuss my monthly cycles and family planning concepts with her!

She was in the midst of telling me, how I MUST NOT give my EXPERT opinion on handy-tips in the kitchen, when I screamed, “OH SHIT!”

“Oh no!” my  mom exclaimed as if she knew the exact reason which had elicited this reaction from me.

“What happened?” I asked curious.

“Something bad, evidently and imagine that too just on the day you saasu ma has to arrive!”

SAASU MA!!!?? This was my first insightful glimpse into the future. I hadnt progressed beyond calling my mother-in-law “aunty-ji”. Would I now suddenly have to shift gears to maaji, mummyji or saasu ma?

“Sorry? What was that again?” I asked mom in a semi-dazed state of mind.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, referring to my exclamation of near doom.

“Oh Shit!” I exclaimed once again as I was called back to the now and present. “The lights just went out on me! So I am essentially stuck with reading order-in menus by the candle!”

“What?” mom exclaimed horrified! God bless moms. There is nothing like a sympathetic shoulder. “You wont cook for her yourself?”

“You out of your mind?” I exclaimed shocked at what was expected of me.

“I am sure she is coming to sample what her son is getting into!” Mom said amazed at how thick-headed I can be at times.

“What bull? What next? She’ll sleep with me to check if I am good enough in bed for her son?” I said forgetting for a moment that I was talking to my mother.

“You do NOT talk to me like that!” pause. “Oh my God! And you NEVER talk to your saasu ma like that? You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” I mumbled.

Was I really expected to cook and be the ideal Bahu?? I’d rather be dead.

“And for heaven’s sake, ” mom was saying, “wear a saree!”

“What?” I asked horrified.

I cannot carry sarees. I am sure to trip on it, rip it, let it come apart and thoroughly embarrass myself. Besides, I was not going to dress up like a doll, just because!

I hurriedly hung up on mom. Mother-in-law was due in an hour and I did want to look presentable. I settled for a Slawar Khameez.

Mother-in-law walks in two hours later. She gave me an entire hour, to first build up my anger and then sweat it out. There were still no lights.

I tried coaxing her twice in between to dine out. It would be rather uncomfortable to dine in the heat. She refused politely both the times. When I tried for a third time, she said, “Is there something or someone at home you DONT want me to see?”

She laughed quite a humorless laugh after that. I resigned to a dinner without lights.

“Salwar Khameez?!” she smiled at me the minute she walked in. “Is that for my benefit?”

What was I supposed to say?

I smiled.

We sat for a bit just doing the necessary chit chat. I got up to fetch her some water.

Quite forgetting all about the dupatta, I stepped on it and almost choked myself. The phone slipped out of my hands and cluttered to the floor. Mom had chosen that minute to call me and the fall had put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Are you a virgin?” blared my mom’s voice in the candle-lit darkness at my mother-in-law.

“I was just asking,” mom continued as usual not waiting for my response, “That way your saasu ma wont have to sleep with you to find out if you are good enough for her son.. hahaha..”


cough, cough, ahem!

So, there I am fuming over Natasha’s duplicity and wondering if life will ever progress beyond vile gossip for her, when the phone rings once again! Since its an unknown caller I almost dont answer it. Almost. Then I do!

“hello?” I said in a voice gruff with abandoned emotions

“Is this a wrong time to call?” he asked.

“Depends on who is calling!” I replied.

“Oh! Of course you wouldnt recognise me after all this time! Its me Vignesh! Naina mausi’s, husband’s, brother’s, wife’s, second cousin’s younger son?” He reminded me.

All this time? When had I ever met him? And heck! I still couldn’t place him. So true to my nature I remained quite.

“We met at Parangana’s wedding?” he hesitated.

“Who Paranagana?” I asked completely baffled now. “Dude, if you are chatting up a wrong number, you’ve picked the wrong woman!” I was annoyed. Really annoyed.

“Wait! Parangana? Naina Maasi’s, husband’s…”

“Wohohoho!” I interrupted him before he charted out a new family tree for me. “It Naina Bua for me. And since that’s absolutely the only name I recognise, I am still on this line with you. Come to the point.”

I knew I was being rude. But I sure as hell did not know this bloke, who did speak decent english, but sucked at breaking ice.

“I was in town. Naina maasi had given me a packet to give to you that’s all,” he said on such a heartbroken whisper, that it was a miracle that I didnt burst out laughing.

“See? it was easy as that!” I said in a semi-conciliatory tone. “Now, when do you get free?”

“I am free now,” he said still in that heartbroken tone.

“Great! Write my address down and we can do lunch together! Sounds good?” I asked.

“Yes! yes!” he yelped like an eager puppy.

Precisely an hour later, I opened my door to a rather handsome, twenty-something, charming gentleman. Over ordered-in lunch I learnt that Vignesh was actually a geek and was in town for some hush-hush top-secret business, he refused to talk about. He was totally intrigued with me and my independent lifestyle and kept bombarding me with hilarious questions like, ” So you drink daroo?”

He was such an entertaining break after screechy Natasha, that I was quite enjoying myself. I offered him some wine and he sheepishly accepted. His eyes were aglow with the excitement of doing something wicked. I almost rolled my eyes.

A couple of glasses down, he asked me, “Wont your fiance mind this?”

“Mind what?” I asked my wine-fuzzed mind not quite comprehending his question.

“You entertaining another male when you are all alone at home?” He said staring deep into his wine glass.

I spluttered on my wine, but refrained from laughing. “No,” I answered as sober-faced as I could, “he will understand that you are a distant cousin of mine and that I am safe with relatives.”

He smiled, content with this explanation. “Besides,” I added,” If you hang around long enough, you might just meet him!”

His eyes widened in horror. “he comes to meet you when you are alone?”

I looked at him with a dead pan expression. Was this dude for real? Was I hallucinating ? Maybe I had a couple of drinks to many. He smiled at me and then looked back deep into his wine glass.

“Can I ask you something? And you wont get mad at me?” He asked. I just remained quite. I had no idea what was playing on his mind.

“Have you been deflowered yet?”

“What?” I asked genuinely confused.

“No! No!” he screamed jumping to his feet. “You dont have to answer if you dont want to. I know I crossed my line there. Its just that I was curious you see. I have never met a woman quite like you before. So bold and so strong. Almost like a man!”

Anybody interested in a GAY marriage?

What A weeekend!!

“Ohhhhhh……..maaaaaaaaaay……gaaaaaaaaaaawd!!!” she screeched in my ear.  I almost dropped the phone and my coffee mug.

“I am sorry, who is this?”  I asked struggling hard to be polite. What I really wanted to do was cut the connection and block the caller.

“It’s me you idiot!”  right. You tell me who is the bigger idiot here. Me, who does not really want to carry on a conversation with this mysterious, screechy caller or she, who identifies herself as ‘me.’

“You didnt recognise me?” she said in a mildly offended tone.

“Voila!” I wanted to scream in her ear, in the same screechy manner in which she had screamed in mine.

“I am Natasha dodo!” she said on a nervous giggle.

Oh! Of course Natasha! My supposed first cousin who has, god knows how, chanced upon my number and was now calling me after about two years on nil correspondence.

“Hey,” I said in a voice completely devoid of enthusiasm.

Taking this as a cue she repeated, “Ohhhhhhhh…….mayyyyyyyyyyyyy…….Gawwwwwwwwwwwwwwd!”

“Gosh! Your ‘Gawd’ must be running as far away as possible from you after all that screeching,” I thought, but courtesy prevented me from voicing this out loud.

“You are getting married!” She sighed heavily into the phone.

“Really? Now that’s a surprise,” I said.

She giggled. “Naughty naughty, keeping secrets from your cousin eh? Are you off work now?”

Considering it was nine in the night, I had better be.

“OK!! Here’s the plan. I am actually in your town right now! Aint that cool?” She crooned.

“Just fantastic!” I said thumping my empty coffee mug on the table and dreading whats to come.

“Lets catch up over a couple of drinks….”

I drank a gallon instead of a couple. It was the only way I could drown her mush and her screechy comments and pseudo excitement at MY wedding.

“Still in bed huh?” Ma sounded somewhere between exasperated and angry. I looked at the phone through sleepy hung-over eyes. Had I really answered her call? I must love my mother very much indeed!

“You drink?” Ma asked astounded.

“Of course I drink!” I said summoning my alcohol induced wits.

“I mean you consume alcohol!?” ma clarified. I had this silly urge to laugh, but even in my semi-awake state I knew it wouldnt go down well with ma.

“It not like a news flash ma! You knew all along!” I said a tad defensively.

“Ya, but I didnt know you drank like a fish!” She said a little heatedly.

“Whats with the drinking rant on a saturday morning?” I asked mildly annoyed.

“Natasha called this morning to say how much ‘funnnn’ it was meeting up with you last night and all she could talk about was how you downed one drink after another!!” Ma said.

That biiii…. Now I could see it all.  She calling ma with spicy albeit non-existent tales of my drunken escapades. Ma worried that four generations of our relatives will hear of this gossip. Some will scoff at me, some will shun me, some younger ones will gape at me with awe.

“She was drinking too ma,” I said in a small guilty voice. I hated putting ma in a situation of any kind.

Ma softened at my tone. “But beta, she is married!” Ma explained.

Well… good people.. so yay!!! In some months I am going to have my official drinking licence!! I am getting married!! Whooooooooopppppppeeeeeeee!!

Why do you need sarees ‘before’ a wedding?

So did I call this long-lost cousin of mine? Duh!! Ain’t I got better things to do? Like sit down with daddy dear and make plans to spend his money on my wedding trousseau!!

And dad did choose today to call me for this very purpose, so all other plans got majorly side-tracked! I am not complaining. Not one eensy weensy bit. The meticulous person that my dad is, he called me up to tell me he would call me back within the hour, hoping I would have my trousseau requirements handy!

What if I didn’t? As in what if I wasn’t able to compile an entire list within the stipulated time? Would he withdraw his offer? Did I really want to risk checking whether or not he would? Was I fool enough to let the golden goose free and check if he would return to me? Why had I wasted precious moments thinking all these pathetically nonsense thoughts?

I grabbed a notepad and a pencil (yes I am fastidious too, its genetic I guess) and set out to make my most favorite list. I also somewhere along, did think of making a wedding scrapbook in which I would put all these tiny lists and their consequences.

When dad called fifty minutes later, I was armed and ready to go. Quite in the same no-nonsense tone, in which he had demanded if I was ready, I was reading out my list to him.

“Why do you need three sarees for the wedding?” He wanted to know.

I had no clue why anybody needed three sarees for any wedding. But I knew from past experiences, brides did save three sarees for the occasion of the wedding.

“Its because you have to change thrice during the puja! Don’t ask me when and why, as ma! She’ll fill you in on the details!” I replied.

He mumbled something about women and their fancies and their expenditures under the farce of religion. I patiently heard him out. He was paying for my entire trousseau, the least I could do was lend him a sympathetic ear!

“Why do you need 5 sarees after the wedding?” he demanded.

“Because I will be expected to roam around like a made up doll for the benefit of my in-laws. Trust me pa! I will be as happy as you are to spend on jeans and tees instead!”

He grumbled something about women’s liberation not having reached its peak yet and the mahila mandal morchas not having done their jobs properly.

Once again I heard him out, all the while dreamily conjuring the vivid colors which would make my trousseau come alive.

“What on earth do you need a couple of sarees before the wedding for?” He had lost all semblance of patience.

“Well da, lets face it, your wife and my mother will have a couple of pujas BEFORE the wedding! Now I really cant sit for those wearing Bermudas, can I?” I quipped, losing my patience at providing a million explanations for everything.

“Well, since your in-laws have nothing to do with the ‘pre-wedding-ceremonies’ you can wear any of those ghastly salwar khameezes you have already spend thousands on!” He quipped back irritated at being quipped at.

I was about to launch into a debate on how those salwar khameezes were not really ghastly, when I thought the better of it.

“You answered it yourself pa,” I said, “Those dresses are ghastly! And hence cant be showcased at any event pertaining to the wedding!! Think about it, all this will be commemorated in my wedding album forever!”

He cut the phone on me.

Ah well.. I suppose dad being dad will call back, to tell he has transferred the money into my account.

Shopping time begins now!! Woooooohoooooooooo!!!

At the beginning with you…

Yesssssssssss!! So I AM getting married!!

I EVEN have a date in hand. I should just figure out how I can get a counter in place here and let the countdown begin!!

Thank you, beforehand, cause I know each and every one of you is going to congratulate me on this move of mine. To my face at least. Am sure some of you will sigh in pity and smirk with the knowlege of what might come. But thanks for pretending anyway!

The first person I have to call, is this long lost cousin of mine. why?

Well besides the fact that she is a mother of  (I grudgingly admit – an adorable) one year old, for the past couple of years she has been disturbing my peaceful weekends with neverending tales of her firts, marital bliss and then her happy motherhood.

So I am going to make that one call and tell her that ‘yay! from now on its my turn to do all the blabbering, for lets face it, your tales are a lil old now.”

Did I mention that she was also a couple of years younger to me?

And then I am going to ‘actually’ answer all those calls from those really nosey aunts and tell them “Yes! I am getting married!:

“You kept him (meaning my boyfriend/fiance) such a well kept secret!” they will say as if  I was insane enough to let them interact with HIM. He would be the first one to cancel our wedding, if he had ever interacted with those insane fifty-something, i-am-oh-so-young aunt’s of mine!

And then I am going to make myself a nice cup of coffee and revel in my new status of the bride-to-be!!

Yay! Marital World .. here I come!!!