Perplexed mummies and daddies and sons and daughters, take notice.
Seen on the Gurgaon-Faridabad Road
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Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Monday, November 19, 2012
For High Class Matrimony
Perplexed mummies and daddies and sons and daughters, take notice.
Seen on the Gurgaon-Faridabad Road
Sunday, October 28, 2012
First Shaadi of the Season
My cerebral tubes are probably choked with Manchurian, Chaap, and Shahi Paneer, in multiple servings to satiate this evening's foodie that had been eager to attend his first wedding of the season. Finally, after committing to two other weddings (as a guest), where the wedding couple itself broke off commitments prematurely, I get one to attend in all fanfare. Disclaimer, that being in my league means almost commenting from a cave - social events are rare, rarer still are the ones I do attend.
One thing for sure, is that being abandoned is no fun (aka being a guest on behalf of yourself, as against the earlier routine when it was the parents we used to tag with and everything used to be 'on behalf of' them). I am newly-abandoned, so I could be led to confuse my unethusiastic impulse for inexperience, and linger on in the hope that there is some silver lining. But really, the only silver lining, as I've come to find is just that palpitational feeling of rubbing shoulder with lardbags in suit.
There is the assurance of food, if nothing else, but trust me, I feel like going on a pilgrimage every time I return from a wedding - not to forget the paradoxical situation of my stomach the next few days, that will not let me leave home. The course of 6 meals accommodated over a single hour is brutal for anybody, regardless of whether they deny it.
This guy, has his eating quirks - still no different from 12yr olds who are ignorant of propriety, skipping main course to accommodate more space for ice cream... which nets me even more lubber than I think.
Of note:
- New fat deposits. They will be useful WTSHTF.
- Dysmorphic body structures.
- People growing into their parents. But I hold negligible appreciation for any parents (mine included) in the first place. So this adaptation is of little use.
- The era of silence, when silence dominates congregations, is still faraway.
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Thursday, April 12, 2012
Monday, April 02, 2012
day 2/10, her 10/10
The beauty of life is seeing how misfortunes weave themselves so congruously, yet to silently, into life. I am disappointed over the matters of the day. Things were only so good as the morning breakfast, and the preprandial nap of 3 hours. For, upon my entry from a restless dreamworld, back into a calm-at-the-surface real world, I learnt of the disturbances on my phone in the meantime - there was Shiv up with something (that something most often relates to some financial calling), and then Yogi remembering me, probably for some envious fact to share, which could range from a noteworthy feat in the kitchen to a trip abroad doing one better than hippies to stop the N-bomb. And then 'jeet with a missed call, probably giving a green flag after having overcome the last hurdle of noncommmittal buswallahs for our Good Friday weekend's adventure. And then 'jeet again with a text msg. A msg to share of some health issues in the family necessitating him to change his travel directions - from our adventure in the hills, to his hometown in Varanasi. So, the FAIL begins.
Having the extended weekend back in hand meant I could revisit old threads/commitments. Sadly, Ethereon was located already stationed in Manali, him doing a solo array of treks in the region, after my straight refusal for this indulgent plan just a coupla' days back. I had imagined wrapping up the bike trip a day early, and doing a day hike with Ethereon on the last day, and thereafter returning together.
Sadly (to repeat), Yogi had also committed to Ranikhet plans to see his folks. Despite all my disappointment, he didn't miss on reminding me to get him the cookies, though.
Then a much-anticipated arrival of my cousin from a 7-hour 380km Hld-Lko drive in an Innova [a quick affair by any standards, one which might slowly wipe the opinional frown about the state of our highways and turn it into a smile; even Lko-Del stretch is pretty much tits now, as I myself had verified behind the steering of a Nano with O'Toole on the Holi weekend] But what evoked a greater emotion (Note: negative, personally) was a yellow envelope, whose contents kicked up the elderly at home (i.e. everybody) into a transitory frenzy. DB had been the carrier of this doomsday device, herself assigned the responsibility through her old folks, who in turn were helping out their friends (who are 'almost family').
The cool graphic on a white sheet slowly released itself from the papyrus, and the ink strands took me into a chokehold. 'कुंडली' - do you know what it means? I still don't, but at that moment I was being sermonised on this obscure astrological porn, and alongside being asked to evaluate this flower of a girl on glossy finish Kodak paper - which if I'd done approvingly, would've necessitated a complex-yet-common social process of what they call 'arranged marriage' (or rather "arraigned" marriage).
I am not escaping some reality. In my defense, this is not my reality. How did we get here?
Having the extended weekend back in hand meant I could revisit old threads/commitments. Sadly, Ethereon was located already stationed in Manali, him doing a solo array of treks in the region, after my straight refusal for this indulgent plan just a coupla' days back. I had imagined wrapping up the bike trip a day early, and doing a day hike with Ethereon on the last day, and thereafter returning together.
Sadly (to repeat), Yogi had also committed to Ranikhet plans to see his folks. Despite all my disappointment, he didn't miss on reminding me to get him the cookies, though.
Then a much-anticipated arrival of my cousin from a 7-hour 380km Hld-Lko drive in an Innova [a quick affair by any standards, one which might slowly wipe the opinional frown about the state of our highways and turn it into a smile; even Lko-Del stretch is pretty much tits now, as I myself had verified behind the steering of a Nano with O'Toole on the Holi weekend] But what evoked a greater emotion (Note: negative, personally) was a yellow envelope, whose contents kicked up the elderly at home (i.e. everybody) into a transitory frenzy. DB had been the carrier of this doomsday device, herself assigned the responsibility through her old folks, who in turn were helping out their friends (who are 'almost family').
The cool graphic on a white sheet slowly released itself from the papyrus, and the ink strands took me into a chokehold. 'कुंडली' - do you know what it means? I still don't, but at that moment I was being sermonised on this obscure astrological porn, and alongside being asked to evaluate this flower of a girl on glossy finish Kodak paper - which if I'd done approvingly, would've necessitated a complex-yet-common social process of what they call 'arranged marriage' (or rather "arraigned" marriage).
I am not escaping some reality. In my defense, this is not my reality. How did we get here?
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Friday, September 10, 2010
Marriages are made in heaven
It would not be surprising to see why religion and arranged marriages go well. India is a shining example, a country that boasts of a "religious character". Marriage is a bond between two people. IT takes forever for two to know each other. What better than train them on the same framework, same decition-making guidelines, mo matter how flawed or historically inconsistent they are? Unless somebody can define themselves or sum their living in a word - eg Hindu, Muslim, Christian... - they cannot sell. Selling ourselves is what religion is for. Who cares how well people personally know each other, learn to guess the instinctive side of other's character? When there's a framework that the society (unjustly) rewards you for why be particularly unique, or try to find the perfect soulmate?"Marriages are made in heaven", when interpreted this way seems logical. We have created a stable framework, supposedly written and ruled by an otherworldly entity that punishes us for a thousand deaths if we break the code. Hence they know those rooted in a religion would not dare break that code; they would not dare anything less (or more) towards a human being by the type of relationship they're in with. Hence a mere background check for criminal record and genetic defeciencies works well. Oh how easy it gets for them. And then they cry about the thousand sins, deviancies that their bile pushes them to.
And that, of course, is the original opposition to an inter-faith marriage. Like getting a Java expert into a C# project. Like pairing an OOP expert with a procedural programming adherent.
Someday my life would find this occurence...
"Sugar, I've always been a PHP guy and you're a VB.NET gal. This cannot work between us."
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