A.k.a. The Kalyanam Chronicles.
With all my friends getting married and me visiting the happy couple, I had to do this.
I hate weddings. I hate all the fanfare, the big hullabaloo, the smoky atmosphere, the silk sarees, the jewelry on display, everything.
But the fun part is when random Uncles/Thathas/elderly gentlemen walk upto you and go ‘When I last saw you you were about this tall.’ and making a gesture that would make you about as tall as Tom Thumb. *Was that the same time as when you had hair on your head?*
“Oh, marine science aa? What will you do with it?” *I’ll make pickles, at least I’ll do it better than your jobless daughter.*
“Oceanography? Heard of National Institute of Oceanography in Goa?” *Well, duhh, I am an oceanographer. And I know NIO sucks. Why do you think I’m in the US?*
Enter the Maami Mafia. “Enna ma? Can you sing? Can you do alapanai?” *Why, would I not qualify as a singer if I sang a Beatles song?”
“Oh-o! You look like K.R.Vijaya! I always told your mother you’d turn out like this.” *Erm.. why would you tell her I’d look like an actress who used to be a peasant-girl selling flowers at the Guruvayoorappan temple? And is it no wonder then that neither my mom nor I have seen you ever since??*
“You’re 23? When do you plan to get married? Or are you one of these career-oriented girls?” *Yep, I’ll have a job and so naturally I’ll torture your son into doing household chores, which means I can’t be a good wife anyway.*
“I know a very good boy, he’ll be perfect for you.” *Does he like practising wrestling with his body pillows? No? Then he’s not perfect for me, sorry.*
“Can you sing? Can you cook?” *Pray, please to tell me how the two are related. AND how they’re related to marriage? Unless, of course, I marry him, then I sing and he dies. If he’s survived my singing, I can poison his dinner, is that how?*
“My son also lives in the US, you should meet him sometime.” *Lady, you do realize that the US is an actual country?*
And this happened when I was standing at one wedding with my grandmom.
Grandma: “What do you think of so-and-so’s son for our little girl?”
Random lady: ” Nice boy but his onnu-vitta-mama (some uncle, once removed) had cancer so their family medical history is not good.”
Grandma: “Ohh.. Thanks ma, good I spoke to you, what a good deed you have done.”
Me: “Umm.. Paati, what about our athai who also died of cancer?”
Grandma: “You stay quiet, periyava pesarche unakku enna anga velai?” (big people talking, you what there doing?)
And, of course, there’s always this one loser who goes to weddings just to see if any pretty eligible girls will make the mistake of considering him as a prospective groom. One such character apparently took a liking to me at one wedding ;). He kept following me around trying to make conversation *Did he not see me rolling my eyes after every sentence he spoke??* and convincing me how it is so cool that he chucked his PhD at Wayne State University and is doing a Masters at IIT Madras because he “wants to serve the country”. *Pray, how? By choosing a career by which you will eventually end up working for an MNC?”
He introduced himself so.
Shady Character: “Hi, I’m Ranga, short for Ranganathan.”
Me: *Not quite impressed with the nicknaming of self, it was still a loser name.* “Erm.. Hi.”
SC: “I’m Prema’s son.”
Me: <staring at him blankly>
SC: “Vijaya’s sister?”
Me: <still blank>
SC: “Umm.. Raghu Chithappa’s wife Vijaya?”
Me: <beginning to panic, wondering if I was at the right wedding> *Who were all these people???*
SC: “Umm.. whose side are you from? The bride or the groom?”
Me: “Erm.. err… I think my Mom’s calling out to me. Bye.”
Turns out, Vijaya was the bride’s mom and the bride was my mom’s cousin, so that made Raghu Chithappa, my mom’s Mama. I found that out much later, of course, thanks to my mom who had seen all this happening and was bursting with laughter.
So why do I still attend weddings? For the food, of course. And for material to blog about. 😀 Later.