I am just back from Hotel Green Park, with Dad. Well, my general trips to this hotel are to its bar (obviously) – The one plus one offer on beers is simply irresistible. Oh! Gawd! How I love beer. But well, the thing that I was back with dad might have given you a hint – the visit tonight was not to the bar. A family friends son was salvaged off today and it was his reception (He got married!).
Now there is something about this Indian wedding that you simply can’t get in any part of the world. First thing – The marriage itself lasts so long that one can’t forget it ever. 3 long days of rituals, a weeklong festivities, and preparations from a long time. I heard the lady (Bridegroom’s mother) was on her shopping visits right since January, i.e. she had exhausted all her options in Vizag till then. Vijayawada, Hyderabad, Delhi, Mumbai – Shopping across four cities all by her. Now add another dozen cities from where she had asked many acquaintances to shop on her behalf (How much money do they blow up for this one ritual, er! Well, 3 day ritual). Now you know why the divorce rate in this country is so low, and people thought it has something to do with the culture, society, bringing up, blah! Blah!
Well, coming back to this wedding. The festivities started last week sometime, and the rituals as far as I know, started on Saturday (could be before that too). The one on Saturday was open to a little distant family. This is a good measure, if you want to check your relationship status with a particular family. The function that you are invited to says it all – your distance from the groom’s, or bride’s family.
I somehow get too lonely at these parties, and prefer not attending them. Well, this is the reason I give to mom for not attending these parties. I would not really get lonely as I don’t mind approaching the weirdest of the strangers at the most obscure place, and chat up with them. The real reason I try avoiding these weddings is the constant look by over sized aunties. These get-togethers are typical venues for matchmaking. One couple being blessed and other couples being initiated. Any guy, or girl, above the age of 22 would fall in the eyes of these aunties. The normal chat between two aunties, say heavy auntie (HA), and the pompous Auntie (PA) would be like
“So how have you been? The earings look really pretty“, says the HA, smirking in mind “her husband must surely be in illegal activities“
“Oh, thank you so much. Even yours are nice.” The PA would reply trying to return the compliment, though celebrating her joy that she could make someone jealous with that costly allurement.
“hey, by the way. See that guy there“, the PA would ask HA
“Come on, look at your age. You are still seeing young guys like this. Look at that pot bellied guy there“, the HA chuckles.
“Ah! I was wondering whose son he is. Remember my sister’s husband’s third cousin’s daughter?”
“I was wondering what a wonderful couple they would make“, the PA remarks, still staring at the guy and trying to find out who the innocently standing guy’s mom is.
There one more couple in the process of being formed. I am sure the next SRK starrer from yash raj’s studio would be “Auntie ne bana di Jodi“
Now you know why I hate attending weddings, or such social family get-togethers. Too risky. I don’t want myself to be the centre of talk for all aunties, and nor do I want my mom to handle them trying to reject the offer, in the most polite manner.
Yesterday though was different, and the bridegroom being the son of one of my mom’s good friend, I had to attend the wedding. Thankfully I had my brother for company. I am sure he must be cribbing about it, as he had to stand with me all night, and not with his friends of the opposite gender. Now staying out of vizag for two years, does deluge one of all access to beautiful women. Many of the ones you know are themselves out of vizag – studying, working or otherwise. Some have shifted base with their families, etc. and a good healthy number of girls you could have very easily dated have got married in the last two years. So now you are left with girls too young, which your brother claims as his domain. SINGLE.
One more funny thing at these Indian weddings, or social gatherings. People like alcohol, non vegetarian but the host refuses. Nah! It is a wedding, a holy day, so – no chicken, no alcohol. Ah! Crap! It is not Lord Shiva getting married, in whose case too I don’t see any reason to refrain from chicken. We Indians anyways don’t consume much of pork to be afraid of the swine flu. My brother and I were very tempted to escape to ESCAPE – the in house bar, but had to restrain ourselves.
Sitting near the dinner spread in a buffet style I did happen to hear an interesting conversation between two elderly pot bellied men.
My positioning near the dinner has nothing to do with my interest in food, it was rather the perfect angle to a hot chik sitting opposite with a guy.
Was he her husband?
Nah! She looks too young to be married.
Nah! Indian tradition, you don’t get your boyfriend to family outing.
Must be her brother for sure.
But then why are they holding hands and chuckling so lovingly?
Chill! Botherly love.
Coming back to the eavesdropped talk. One guy slams to the other, “damn these people. I gave a full 200 rupees gift and this is what they serve. It was not a paisa wasool party for me“. The other guy, with lots of hair all across his heavily built body, trying hard to stuff all the tawa sabji in his mouth, speaks difficulty,” yes, I expected this, and that is the reason I brought along my wife, my 2 kids and also 3 of my nephews. My brother was not available so he had to miss the party” the fry brinjal still hanging out of his mouth. I hope he is now satisfied that his 200 rupees was a good investment.
One the whole, it was a wonderful evening, and it has only strengthened my decision to avoid all such parties. I don’t want to wasool all the gift money that my parents would give. Also, it was a very heavy compromise to do with the beer party with friends. Nothing like beer!
“Congratulations! Wish you a happy married life”. Thud.