WEDDING BAILS! [sic.]

Wanted BRIDE, from a respectable family, professionally qualified, able to understand and appreciate life, caring and affectionate, believe in open and committed relationship with interest in music, books, sports, movies and food, God fearing, home loving, domestically trained, fair complexion, beautiful, slim, modern outlook, for Chi. Swaminathan Iyer [AKA Sam], MBA, working as Associate Vice President, drawing seven digit salary per annum, clean habits, Wt. 90kgs., Height. 6’1”. Born on 07-12-1983 at 9.04 p.m. in Mumbai.

Voila! I guess I’ll fit the bill, leaving aside a few requirements that is!

Having old-almost deaf-with one foot in the grave-relatives can be a major curse in disguise! They are the ‘all-knowing’ and if a girl is 21 and is a graduate, she ought to get married and soon, be in the family way. The reason being: “My last wish is to hold my great-grandchild in my arms! I don’t think I’ll cross this year!”

Pardon me for the glaring grammatical errors, but well, I stumbled upon this ad in some matrimonial website whilst ‘Groom hunting’ for my more-than-eligible-spinster-sister!

The entire ‘Ebay-esque groom hunting’ is fascinating-unbelievable, actually! In case you are on the lookout of some baseless entertainment, make sure you check out random profiles that have people making a buffoonery of themselves! The impeccable engliss and the goddarn photos of the self-proclaimed hunks and beauties, will make even the dullest of days super entertaining…personally, I feel like Megan Fox at the end of the entire ordeal! [For a few minutes at least!]

Now, leaving the entire entertainment factor aside, the entire concept of online hunting is very superficial indeed. I know it is working wonders in the Indian wedding market, but if you happen to mull over it for two minutes, don’t you think the entire ‘legal human trafficking’ [an over-exaggerated version of what I’m trying to convey] is inane and almost insane?

How on earth can you decide if any ‘eligible Bride’ can ‘understand and appreciate life’? It sounds more like an ad to promote Baba Ramdev’s yog asans!

Personally, I judge life by the moment. The days I have early morning lectures, have to put up with mum’s running commentary, have noisy and nosy guests for dinner, have 30 bucks remaining in my pocket- life seems crappy, and ‘appreciating it’ wouldn’t even be the last thing on my mind! While on the days when I watch a romantic chick-flick; watch Federer slam Nadal; gobble down yummilicious mum-made Palak paneer, get ‘big’ birthday presents - life is a Dutch truffle! So, this requirement is baseless.

And for Christ’s sake, what does one try to indicate by ‘fair complexion, beautiful and slim looks’? Isn’t it ‘racism’ at its best? Why don’t people make an issue out of this? And what the hell do you mean by beautiful? Shehnaz Hussain owns a beauty care company. She is a lot of things, but beautiful is surely not one of them. Creepy is!

What if five years down the line, you suddenly develop ugly wrinkles and uglier dark circles and ye, tubes of ‘Fair and lovely’ don’t seem to work? Please note that Sam [probably with two pack abs of flab] actually has the nerve to hunt for a ‘slim’ girl, only to be christened the ideal Mrs. Laurel and Mr. Hardy!

I can actually go on and on about every godforsaken requirement enlisted there. But for the sake of retaining my sanity and sanctity, I choose not to.

Later!

Growing old…Growing up?

04: 51 ST

Pudheel station wadala.

Agla station Wadala.

Next station wadala.

Location: THE window seat (in the direction of the train) on board a not-so-crowded local.

Well, pretty clichéd a setup, I know. But well, I love clichés.

Sitting on THAT coveted window seat in the train with phone chords plugged in, is by far the best mental stimulator. From churning out new excuses for being late for class, to making life-changing decisions, this has been it.

Okay, cut to the very beginning.

Yes, the setup is perfect and the train isn’t swarming either. So there’s no room for bottom pinching, molestation and its likes. No ‘aunty gossip’ to distract me even.

But for me, distractions have always been constant at every stage. My history teacher will also sing along in chorus when I say so.

Okay, today, one lanky teenager manages to grab my attention in this VT-bound local.

Actually, the 20-odd pairs of earrings he has in a ‘cardboard shoebox’ do the needful.

Almost as a ‘response to stimuli’, I look around to my right, just to make sure that I see no ‘known’ face.

After preliminary investigations, I gather the courage to call out to him.

Now, as theatrical as it may sound, I actually get flashes of the same setup, the same ‘lanky teenager’ and the ‘same pairs of earrings’.

Coloured flashes.

Even back then, I looked to my right- but only to get some ‘peer advice’ on which pair would match which outfit.

Yes, yes. Everybody goes through the ‘matching-matching’ phase. So did me.

Purple kurta-purple danglers-purple wooden bangles-purple chappals.

~ PERFECTO! ~

Pudheel station cotton green.

Agla station cotton green.

Next station cotton green.

LOCATION: An inch closer to the window, with aunty-number-nine managing to fix her derriere on the eight-seater.

“Earrings dikhao, bhaiyya.”

“Bada wala 20 ka. Chota 10 ka, Medam.”

…

……

“Hey, babe! Wazza?”

HOLY HELL! Did I just hear what I just heard?

..

…

What on earth is she doing here?

Within seconds, the known squeaky voice turns into a known face.

“Um..Hey! What’s been up?”

The plastered grin isn’t unnoticeable.

By then…

“Bhaiyya,nahin chaihiye!”

“Medam, lo na!”

“nahin..jao.”

Unsurprisingly, the conversation with Miss-known-face doesn’t quite gain any momentum even after grave attempts.

She happens to be one of my “Hi-sup-nm-u?-same ya-ok-gtg-bye” friends.

Nay, not just on FB Chat. In reality even.

After a series of questions based on the most-known-facts and after exchanging numbers (read: conversation extenders), she vanishes.

Very soon, I forget known voice-turned-face, but can’t quit thinking about the earring-wala and the purple danglers he had.

Two years ago, selecting-bargaining-buying-and flaunting, was so kewl and a huge deal--the talk on the foyer table, the next day.

But today, I actually brushed him off to make sure I wasn’t caught red handed.

Huh? My train of thought accelerates at 180 miles/hour.

TRIVIA: Thoughts travel faster than Mumbai’s locals.

Soon lo behold, I make a mental note of ‘kewl-turned-unkewl’ things I used to do and actually be proud of:

1. Beaded bracelets (read plural), over-sized bangles, almost-shoulder-touching danglers was mah style. Girly and mature, I used to think it was.

2. I haven’t missed a single episode of Ekta Kapoor’s ‘Kyunki Saas Bhi kabhi bahu Thi…’ in the first year that it was launched. NEVER.

3. Vivek Oberoi was THE man. My knight in shining armour. With three posters pasted on my room wall and one on the ceiling, I can’t recall even a single day when I didn’t picture myself in place of Rani Mukherji in the song “Saaathiyaaa… Saaathiyaaa..!”

4. My kinetic eye candies back then had to be the ‘Math tuition boys’. As lame as it may sound, I don’t have memories of even attempting to make conversations with the other species, as a school-goer.

One school girl seen smiling and talking to some random tuition boy= haw, she’s desperate!

5. Fuck, bastard, asshole, bitch…were words that weren’t even part of my imaginary vocabulary. IDIOT was it.

And ‘non-veg’ jokes were taboo. “Aiyyo, sheesh! What poor upbringing!” I’d yell.

However, this doesn’t imply that I’m a pervert NOW.

6. A virtual wannabe, I’ve always been.

But the only difference now- I’m keeping pace with the times.

Year: 2007.

ORKUT:

About me: Ma name’s reetika. m a sweet gal. I luv ma familee, ma frndzz n ma lyf.

E-mail id: reetika_lyfrox@yahoo.com

Scraps : “Hiieee, wazza ?

Wad ya upto girlie?

Lolzz!”

You’re getting the drift, nai?

I was a rawkerr, mahn! \m/

Pudheel station VT.

Agla station VT.

Next station VT.

Goodness, only 2 more minutes to indulge in retrospection!

Damn it!

I wonder when, how and why did I condition myself to portray the role of the socially-enlightened-- contemplating whether what I do, will be okay or not. Mum calls it “growing up.”

But on days like today, with the earrings-wala around, I wish I was the good old ignorant wannabe, I was proud to be--a time when embarrassing situations ensued only on ‘report cards’ and I could just be ME.

Two-toothed smile

First posts are always super special. So, here goes.

Buttermilk hair.
Perpendicular pigtail.
Round kumkum pottu.
Trademark giggle.
Two-toothed smile.

Accented hindi.
Non-stop banter.
Un-herd mimic.
Childlike surprises.
Two-toothed smile.

Animal chocolate.
Green Energy Milk.
Mewad kulfi.
Sundown rounds.
Two-toothed smile.

Anorexic dosas.
Golden potato fry.
Kaapi vending machine.
Obsessive compulsive cook.
Two-toothed smile.

Buzzing phone calls.
Badminton referee.
Assured fan.
Sun-TV addict.
Two-toothed smile.

Five rupee bets.
Hidden piggy bank.
Charitable manicures.
Clumsy rangolis .
Two-toothed smile.

Brittle bangles.
Brittle bones.
Swollen toes.
Silent rebel.
Two-toothed smile.

Blue walker.
Faded ‘American’ sweater.
Benumbed kidneys.
Colourless dialysis.
Two-toothed smile.

Kinetic brain cells.
Hyperactive tear glands.
Hypoglycemic rant.
Road end goodbye.
Two-toothed smile.