Brain Freeze

Friday, December 17, 2004

Wedding Blues!

One of the most wonderful things about being a Indian is that half the world (and his neighbour) is related to you in the "mamma ke patni ki dada ke padosi ka saala hain" way. Any given time, half of them will be in the process of being married. Of course, since you are such a close relation of theirs, your family will garner an invitation. For your mother, it's a wonderful idea, since it means she doesn't have to cook. For you... not so much...
This is what happens whenever I have to go see a wedding ceremony. I whine and moan, "But mamma, I want to stay home and watch 'Friends'/'Will & Grace'...". The retort to that invariably is "They have invited you personally as WELL"!
So, I have to drag myself to my 'wardrobe' to get a suitable costume.. err OUTFIT. (and you thought only the bride and groom had cold feet!) I open the door and all my clothes fall over me. "Gee, that could make selection SO much easier". I pick up the most 'zari'fied and red dress I can find off the floor, and stuff the rest into the shelf, just so that it would achieve the perfect landing the next time I open the door!
Ironing clothes in my house is one of the most adventurous things anyone can do. There's some sort of anti-magnetic field around my house that invariably ruins any iron (hehe! notice the pun?) that we buy. The present one (Philips, I may add) has frayed wires and a propensity to burn anything that does not come under the header: Thick cotton/Linen. Ironing anything that you might wear for a wedding (or as most people say MARRIAGE) is begging for punishment. The solution is, yell for mother!
So much for dressing up. Next, I have to practise that fixed smile that is going to come in useful soon enough. Off to the mirror. "too less teeth.. too much teeth...uhuh, face is looking like it's cracking..." Once the perfect smile has been practised, I go switch on the tv and lounge around. That's when my mother comes down, all clad in heavy silk. One look at me and it's time for her BP to hit 'very dangerous'. "SHRUTI.. Get up THIS instant and change your dress. You have completely crumpled it...." Well, that's fini for 'I am ready'!
Finally, the family is off for the wedding ceremony. *sniff* That's always so touching, except for the videographers shining their oh-so-dim-bulbs into your face for posterity. The shine off the bride's ornaments alone are enough to blind you temporarily. Then, of course, if you just attended an MOSC wedding, it pretty much means you will be standing for 2 hours, unless you are 80 years old and walk with the aid of a cane.
The church and the hall were you may legitimately stuff your face with food are often in 2 very different parts of the city. Which means you have to get out of the church just early enough to beat the rush, yet get in just as the hall is opened.
Then begins a long wait. 8 people sitting around a table with food placed before them, yet their mouths are gagged by courtesy. (We are only allowed to eat when the bride and groom turn up) Only to food,though, not to talk. This is when I tune off. I can't really say what the talk is about.
At about 1:30 pm, when the hunger pangs start to consume you and your thought is "grab the cutlets before anyone notices", the couple enter. Ceremony on stage.. Cut cake, light lamp, groom jokes (laugh dutifully at groom's joke), drink (eeyuch) milk, priest says grace, hungry hordes descend on feast like angry locusts.
It never fails, just as I start on the chicken leg, photographers turn up. With as much grace I can muster, I slowly lower my hand and start playing with my food with my head bowed down. ("Oh look at me, I don't eat anything they give for wedding feasts")
Hunger sated, all the people get up to leave. Close relatives you haven't met in, oh 17 years trot up and begin exclaiming on "How long it has been". The next sentence invariably is " You were this small when I saw you" *indicating an impossibly small length*
a) If I was that small when you last saw me, did you have specialised ultrasound to see me by?
b) How on earth could I STILL remember you then?
This is were the ismile practice comes in handy!
"Do you know me?" *big smile*
"Do you remember who I am?" *bigger smile*
"So when is it going to be your turn (*wink wink nudge nudge*) to get married?" *face cracking smile and hope that the questioner would sink through the ground and into the darkest corner of Hades where he/she belongs*
"You have your grandmother's face and height and your father's smile." Hey, that's GENETICS, I didn't STEAL them!!
By this time, I am dragging my mother by my hand as fast as she'll allow herself to be dragged. "Let's go go go go, before they ask me if I like babies..."
Yeah, yeah... Have a wonderful married life, guys!

Copy-write Shrutz :: 7:28 PM :: 2 Sneaky Remarks:

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