Have you ever driven to a marriage where the only person you really know is the groom. Not too many common friends, just a couple of old old acquaintances that you had met long years back- who you don’t know if are attending the marriage. You don’t even know if you can recognize them after these years and vice versa. But, when the friend has been so good, there is no way you can just walk into his marriage, say hi, wish him all the best and just move out.
As with most Punjabi marriages, there’s always this pleasure of watching some very pretty girls and some trying to look pretty. But, the fun gets lost somewhere in the absence of friends to engage in serious ornithological discussions. Despite being alone, I chose to pursue my favourite activity.
While scanning through the hall- bright with the light, rocking with the music, fragrant with the choicest of perfumes and of course, beautiful with the beautiful people around, my eyes stopped at this gorgeous lady with a charming smile. I’d seen her somewhere… (or is this the feeling that one gets after conducting Development centers and individual discussions with loads and loads of PYTs in different BPOs)…
This lady was my senior at school. Probably 2 or 3 years my senior. I think I was in 8th or 9th standard. To a boy from the (literally and culturally) distant Thiruvananthapuram, this lady was no less than an angel. This is typically an age in a boy's life when he really starts wanting/ trying to impress girls or just wants them to get impressed- just like that.
Shy that I was (scared, actually), never really mustered the courage to ever go and talk to her. Even as these memories were coming back to me, and amusing me, the bride entered the hall. In typical filmi style, the right songs were being played. The lights were dimmed in the hall, the bright light focusing only on the bride entering the hall, flanked by her folks, and the groom eagerly and impatiently waiting for his girl- passing on flying kisses in the air- for added impact. As my friend held out his hand to help his bride on to the stage, the DJ played “mere haath mein tera haath ho”. To the quintessential south Indian reader, all this may sound exaggerated and loud. I can imagine the scandal it would create if any of my cousins or friends in the community (or even me sometime in the times ahead) were to break into an impromptu jig before garlanding the bride- as my friend did.
Even the groom and bride settled down for the photo sessions, my eyes started scanning the attendees again. The lady was missing. (I couldn’t meet her through the rest of the evening/ night). I’d missed the chance to ask her name at least. I console myself saying that such memories feel sweeter when a name is not associated with the memory and the face.
Eddy, my friend- the groom, had warned me, that the principal of my college for undergrad studies might come in. And I ran in to him at the wedding.
It was like…old sparks flew… lightning struck… thunder bolted…
His eyes looked at mine and mine into his.
Circa November 2000. The time is one- one thirty in the wee hours of midnight. A bunch of students have gheraoed the Vice Chancellor’s office in Delhi University over an issue close to their hearts (and pockets). The passions are running high.
The professors and the powers that be, trapped in the office are desperately trying to use their rapport with their students to let them out. Out comes the princi, looks at me and beckons me to come to him. Here’s the conversation as I remember it.
“Humko ghar jaane do. Humaare bachhe humaara wait kar rahe hain”
“Sir, humaari baat maan jaaiye aur phir hum aapko ghar jaane denge”
“Gharwaale wait kar rahe hain”
“Sir, humaare bhi”
“Beta hum ghar jaayenge. Rok sako toh rok lo.”
“Sir, main toh aapko rokoonga nahi. Par jo mere saath hain, unka mood zara theek nahi hai. Wo shaayad jaane na de”
I smile at him… like Nana Patekar smiles at Manisha Koirala in Agnisaakshi.
He looks around and senses the anger and beats a retreat.
I smile triumphantly at my mates like Kapil Dev did after lifting the world cup.
We had plenty of such showdowns over the next three and a half years.
Circa, yesterday.
I could guess he remembered the same moment as I did.
Two to three uncomfortable seconds of silence later, I touched his feet, shook hands. He said he was happy to see me. Thankfully, he didn’t know/ remember my name.
My next brush was with an ex-boss of mine. To his credit, he still remains in touch and is as courteous and friendly as anybody I have seen. It was a real pleasure meeting him and spent some very nice minutes with him. Also, thanks to him, I had company for dinner ( I had thought that aaj toh akele hee dinner karna hoga). More so, for he had friends there and he could sense I was alone.
To the quintessential southie, the biggest difference between our kinda marriages and the ones that happen here is that ours happen in the mornings. Here, but for a few select sects, they have it from evening to late in the night. Also, in south, typically the food comes to you- typically in my community, it is served on banana leaves. Here, it is a buffet. There is a different charm about each of the systems I suppose.
As I stepped out of the wedding yesterday night, that scene from the film- “Gandhi” flashed before my eyes- where Kasturba and the Mahatma enact the saptapadi (saat phere) to their English friend and explain to him the significance of each of these.
This one is dedicated to my good friend Eddy and his lovely wife, Nidhi who got married yesterday. I have known Eddy as a gem of a guy- gentle, intelligent, sensible and sensitive. I pray you have a great life together Eddy and Nidhi.
This one is also dedicated to all my other chums who lose their bachelorhood/ spinsterhood this month.
Amongst others, to Varsha, my friend since class 11th, who gets married later next week. I’ve known Varsha as a very simple, yet elegant lady; very modern, yet with a bharatiya naari touch. Wish her a great married life.
And to my friend Shefali who is getting married in a few days from now. One of the more mature individuals I met at D-school, Shefali also happens to be one of the most sincere people I’ve known and a person of extraordinary emotional strength. Wish her a great married life.
PS- The definition of a spouse as my friend says “She, who stands by you through all the trouble which would never have happened, but for her”
No comments:
Post a Comment