(Continuation of "Getting Married Part-V")
“So, when are you getting married?” asks Bhavana.
“Do I have to?” I reply.
I look at the expression of disbelief and shock in her eyes.
“How can you talk like this?” she asks, “Is it a case of love-failure?”
Now it was my turn to be shocked.
“Does it have to be a love-failure, when a person decides not to marry?” I retort back.
“Well, that’s what happens in most of the cases.”
“I don’t agree with you.”
“Then tell me the reason why you don’t want to get married,” she starts pulling my leg.
Instead of answering her, I ask, “Why do I need to give you an explanation?”
Before we could argue any further, I get a call on my extension and Bhavana gets back to her cubicle.
“Hello?” says a very familiar voice.
“Yes Radhika.”
Why do I not show my anger on her? She ditched me, her childhood mate, for her 6-months old fiancé; yet I don’t scream and shout at her. Why?
“Are you busy sweetheart?” she asks with a hesitation in her voice.
I am reminded of the time when she wanted to borrow my skirt for a fancy-dress competition, when we were in our primary school. There was the same hesitation, the same quivering in her voice. We were such close pals that everyone in our class would wonder why their friends were not that understanding. All my anger melts away and all that I remember is the shy smile of a sweet girl of five.
“I am in the office, Radhika,” I reply, “How are you?”
“I… I am fine,” she says and then words tumble out in a flood, “Could you… Could you do me a favour?”
“Of course dear!”
“There is absolutely no balance in my cell phone. I was wondering if you could go out and buy a re-charge card for me and sms me the 10-digit code number.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in a bus traveling from my aunt’s place to home.”
“Is it that urgent?”
“Hmm… I just checked my balance; it’s just ten rupees. It’s will take me an hour to reach home. Meanwhile I thought I could talk with Siddhu…”
The mere mention of her fiancé makes me feel frustrated. I want to end the call as soon as possible.
“Why don’t you ask him to get a recharge card for you?” I ask
“No… No… How can I do that?”
“He’s after all, your fiancé.”
“I can’t do that,” she exclaims, “What will he think of me?”
“Oh come on! You are going to spend the rest of your life with him.”
“You will not understand!” she shouted and cut the connection.
I wonder what I will not understand. Radhika stopped finding time to be with me since so many days and now when I thought she had called to talk with me, all I get to hear is: Another help required! Am I a departmental store or a personal assistant to get things done for anyone? I also have feelings. Just because I don’t call her, it does not mean that I don’t have any feelings for her. It hurts not to be with her, not to share my thoughts with her, not to talk with her… But all that she is bothered about is her Siddhu!
He is going to be her husband; yet she is uncomfortable asking him for a small help. Is she mad? Why does she need to keep pretences with her closed one? She did not bat an eyelid before she called me to ask. How mean of her! Why do people take others for granted! Why do they not realize that even others need love and affection? They feel terrible when someone uses them and then forgets all about them…
A voice cuts into my thoughts.
“Back to your dreamland?” asks Bhavana giggling, “It’s lunchtime.”
“Give me a minute,” I cry, “I need to rush the restroom!”
While I hurry, she calls me back saying, “I am still eagerly waiting to know why you don’t want to marry.”
(To be continued in "Getting Married Part-VII")
Showing posts with label Getting Married. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Getting Married. Show all posts
Monday, April 28, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Getting Married, Part-V
(Continuation of "Getting Married Part-IV")
A girl leaves her home to spend the rest of her life with a completely different/new family. She adjusts her life style, her dressing, her working hours etc. to suit her new home. Yet she is not the bakra here! Only the guy is bakra!
She has to forgo her professional career if they decide to have a baby. Yet the guy is the bakra!
After marriage is there any change in the way a man lives? Not much, in fact the change is almost negligible! He still continues to get up at seven… gets a ready cup of coffee and breakfast once he gets ready… His clothes are readily pressed for him as always… Even after he returns from office, he gets to watch his favorite TV programs…
How about the girl? She is expected to cook, wash and clean and take care of the family… She is asked to do things that she has never done before. She has to manage home and office… Yet the guy is the bakra! How mean! Why is life so partial!
******************
Bhavana and I are having our lunch together when I see the wedding card of her friends. It says: “Sanjay weds Sarika(alias Gautami)”
“What’s Sarika doing?”
“Who’s Sarika?”
“Sanjay’s fiancée.”
“Oh! You mean Gautami?” she says, “She’s a school teacher. Actually, her name is Gautami only. But according to Sanjay’s horoscope, he should marry a girl whose name starts with an S. Only then he will be wealthy.”
“So? So, she has changed her name for him?” I ask.
“Oh no! He has asked her to change it to Sarika,” she replies and adds, “In fact, she did not want to change her name at all. But her parents insisted that she will never get a better marriage proposal; so she had to change her name.”
“Bad! Very bad!” I exclaim and add, “Very sad too!”
In general the girl’s surname changes after her marriage. In fact, after her marriage, Bhavana prefers to be called as Bhavana Dubey, rather than Bhavana Sharma. One day, I asked her, “Why did you change your name after marriage?”
“That is our India tradition, dear,” she said and continued, “One day, even you will change your name.”
“Do you like being called Ms. Dubey rather than Ms. Sharma?”
“Yes, of course!””Is your husband called Mr. Sharma?”
“No,” she replied in a shock, “Why will Vinod be called a Sharma? He was born in the Dubey family.”
“But you were also born in a Varma family not a Dubey family,” I argued.
“You don’t seem to value Indian traditions.”
“It’s not like that. People do not wish to change something that has been continued for ages. They don’t want to see a change. They don’t want to be singled out and pointed out. Or sometimes, they have been brainwashed to such a extent that they accept all the norms of the society without any question. If someone goes against these general norms, he/she is called arrogant.”
I got so angry that day that I stormed out of her cubicle. But now, changing of surname seemed so small when compared to changing a person’s name. We have been called by a name since our birth, it is the same name that we see in all our school certificates and ID cards, and now all at once, it is printed differently in our wedding card. It’s so sad! Why are we forced to change for someone else? If Gautami was interested in changing her name, it would be fine, but this change has been against her wishes. I pity at the plight of most of the girls in the society.
(To be Continued in "Getting Married Part-VI")
A girl leaves her home to spend the rest of her life with a completely different/new family. She adjusts her life style, her dressing, her working hours etc. to suit her new home. Yet she is not the bakra here! Only the guy is bakra!
She has to forgo her professional career if they decide to have a baby. Yet the guy is the bakra!
After marriage is there any change in the way a man lives? Not much, in fact the change is almost negligible! He still continues to get up at seven… gets a ready cup of coffee and breakfast once he gets ready… His clothes are readily pressed for him as always… Even after he returns from office, he gets to watch his favorite TV programs…
How about the girl? She is expected to cook, wash and clean and take care of the family… She is asked to do things that she has never done before. She has to manage home and office… Yet the guy is the bakra! How mean! Why is life so partial!
******************
Bhavana and I are having our lunch together when I see the wedding card of her friends. It says: “Sanjay weds Sarika(alias Gautami)”
“What’s Sarika doing?”
“Who’s Sarika?”
“Sanjay’s fiancée.”
“Oh! You mean Gautami?” she says, “She’s a school teacher. Actually, her name is Gautami only. But according to Sanjay’s horoscope, he should marry a girl whose name starts with an S. Only then he will be wealthy.”
“So? So, she has changed her name for him?” I ask.
“Oh no! He has asked her to change it to Sarika,” she replies and adds, “In fact, she did not want to change her name at all. But her parents insisted that she will never get a better marriage proposal; so she had to change her name.”
“Bad! Very bad!” I exclaim and add, “Very sad too!”
In general the girl’s surname changes after her marriage. In fact, after her marriage, Bhavana prefers to be called as Bhavana Dubey, rather than Bhavana Sharma. One day, I asked her, “Why did you change your name after marriage?”
“That is our India tradition, dear,” she said and continued, “One day, even you will change your name.”
“Do you like being called Ms. Dubey rather than Ms. Sharma?”
“Yes, of course!””Is your husband called Mr. Sharma?”
“No,” she replied in a shock, “Why will Vinod be called a Sharma? He was born in the Dubey family.”
“But you were also born in a Varma family not a Dubey family,” I argued.
“You don’t seem to value Indian traditions.”
“It’s not like that. People do not wish to change something that has been continued for ages. They don’t want to see a change. They don’t want to be singled out and pointed out. Or sometimes, they have been brainwashed to such a extent that they accept all the norms of the society without any question. If someone goes against these general norms, he/she is called arrogant.”
I got so angry that day that I stormed out of her cubicle. But now, changing of surname seemed so small when compared to changing a person’s name. We have been called by a name since our birth, it is the same name that we see in all our school certificates and ID cards, and now all at once, it is printed differently in our wedding card. It’s so sad! Why are we forced to change for someone else? If Gautami was interested in changing her name, it would be fine, but this change has been against her wishes. I pity at the plight of most of the girls in the society.
(To be Continued in "Getting Married Part-VI")
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Do you believe in Telepathy?
Well, I don't know about you, but I do! :-)
This night our dear Mandu asked me if I needed anything for dinner. I was sitting at my office desk, fully-exhausted and dead-tired. I had already eaten my lunch for dinner, so I told him:'Nothing'. He joked that 'Nothing' can't be ordered for dinner and that it is very difficult to get 'Nothing' for me. I just smiled and got back to work. Infact I was feeling like having some sweet paans. You know what I like the most in Tabla? The sweet paans that come along with the bill. ;-)
When he returned from dinner, guess what? He had got sweet paan for me. I was utterly surprised and extremely delighted. How could he read my thoughts? Or was I silently in my thought, asking him to bring me sweet paan?
No one knows but he did read my mind and this was not the first time! :-)
So, atleast now, do you believe in Telepathy?
This night our dear Mandu asked me if I needed anything for dinner. I was sitting at my office desk, fully-exhausted and dead-tired. I had already eaten my lunch for dinner, so I told him:'Nothing'. He joked that 'Nothing' can't be ordered for dinner and that it is very difficult to get 'Nothing' for me. I just smiled and got back to work. Infact I was feeling like having some sweet paans. You know what I like the most in Tabla? The sweet paans that come along with the bill. ;-)
When he returned from dinner, guess what? He had got sweet paan for me. I was utterly surprised and extremely delighted. How could he read my thoughts? Or was I silently in my thought, asking him to bring me sweet paan?
No one knows but he did read my mind and this was not the first time! :-)
So, atleast now, do you believe in Telepathy?
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Getting Married Part-IV
(Continuation of "Getting Married Part-III")
I walk and walk and walk, cover miles together. I remember those days when we could not even bear a separation of a day. We would spend our summer vacations together, half of the time at her grandparents place and the other half at mine.
Where have those days gone?
With tears streaming down my face, I wander aimlessly. I feel a surge of energy… The energy caused by the anger in me… Energy so enormous, that I am scared that it may be devastating. I have exhaust this energy before it makes me lose my temper, before it makes me shout and before it makes me lose control of myself.
I look at my surroundings. I realize that I’m just a block away from home. I walk towards home. Instead of going inside, I pull out the gardening tools from the garage and begin to pull out weeds. I continue with my work paying no heed to the scorching sun and the sultry weather. By the time my temper cools down, our backyard is free from weeds.
****
It’s been two days since I have heard from Radhika. I was too angry to meet her. I did not want to shout at her and upset her. But now, I have some good news to share and the first person who comes to my mind is, my closest friend, Radhika. I pick up the phone and dial her number.
“Hi Sweetie!” she coos into the receiver, “You will live for thousand years. I was just thinking of talking to you.”
“You know what?” I say excitedly.
“What?” she asks with enthusiasm.
“I can’t tell it over phone. Shall we go to the pantry for coffee?”
“Would have loved to!” she sighs, “but I am not in the office, dear.”
“Where are you?”
“I am in Visakhapatnam. Thought of telling you…”
The rest of the conversation goes over my head. Why has she become like this? How much time will it take for her to tell me that she’s going out of station? Things like these have never happened before. Who is responsible for all this? Siddhu… That stupid! That fool! Who is he to separate us, the best of friends? I am very angry with him. I feel like hitting him, banging his head onto the wall and say, “She is MY friend. We have known each other since childhood. You can’t separate us like this.” Instead I ask her to convey my “Hi!” to him. Life is full of irony and sarcasm!
****
During Radhika’s absence, I have been getting closer to another colleague of mine. Her name is Bhavana. She sits right next to me in office. She’s a very shy and reserved girl. She had always wanted to be friends with me, but Radhika hated her. So, even I did not pay much attention to her but now she’s the only friend I have. For the first time in my life, I am doing things without telling Radhika. Bhavana and I spend a lot of time together, having a lot of fun.
One day when I enter our floor in the office, I am welcomed by the sound of laughter. A huge group of people was sitting at Bhavana’s desk. While I am walking past them to my cubicle, Bhavana stops me to introduce me to them.
“We did our BCA together,” she says, “Tomorrow is the wedding of Sanjay, another classmate of ours. We are discussing on what to buy for him.”
“Oh! May be you could get him a ring,” I suggest.
“He already has one and will get one more soon,” replies one guy with a twinkling in his eye.
“Then may be we could buy…”
He interrupts me and continues, “He has the ‘engagement ring’ now and he will get ‘suffer-ring’ tomorrow.”
Everyone burst into laughter. The conversation flows around the same topic. These comments trigger a stream of thoughts into my mind. I start feeling uncomfortable because of them.
“Excuse me!” I say, “I need to begin my work before my boss sees me idling.”
“Hey! Sit with us for sometime,” begs Bhavana, “Our manager has not come to the office yet.”
“But I still have a lot of pending tasks,” I lie and before they can persuade me further, I rush into my cubicle. But I can still hear bits of their conversation.
“Poor thing! He will lose his freedom tomorrow.”
“Another bakra in our group!”
“I have just sent him a mail asking him to enjoy his last day!”
“From now on he has to go home early to report to his life-time boss!”
Laughter and laughter! All this makes me feel so sick from inside.
(The story seems to be endless! Thanks for your patience! It will be continued in "Getting Married Part-V")
I walk and walk and walk, cover miles together. I remember those days when we could not even bear a separation of a day. We would spend our summer vacations together, half of the time at her grandparents place and the other half at mine.
Where have those days gone?
With tears streaming down my face, I wander aimlessly. I feel a surge of energy… The energy caused by the anger in me… Energy so enormous, that I am scared that it may be devastating. I have exhaust this energy before it makes me lose my temper, before it makes me shout and before it makes me lose control of myself.
I look at my surroundings. I realize that I’m just a block away from home. I walk towards home. Instead of going inside, I pull out the gardening tools from the garage and begin to pull out weeds. I continue with my work paying no heed to the scorching sun and the sultry weather. By the time my temper cools down, our backyard is free from weeds.
****
It’s been two days since I have heard from Radhika. I was too angry to meet her. I did not want to shout at her and upset her. But now, I have some good news to share and the first person who comes to my mind is, my closest friend, Radhika. I pick up the phone and dial her number.
“Hi Sweetie!” she coos into the receiver, “You will live for thousand years. I was just thinking of talking to you.”
“You know what?” I say excitedly.
“What?” she asks with enthusiasm.
“I can’t tell it over phone. Shall we go to the pantry for coffee?”
“Would have loved to!” she sighs, “but I am not in the office, dear.”
“Where are you?”
“I am in Visakhapatnam. Thought of telling you…”
The rest of the conversation goes over my head. Why has she become like this? How much time will it take for her to tell me that she’s going out of station? Things like these have never happened before. Who is responsible for all this? Siddhu… That stupid! That fool! Who is he to separate us, the best of friends? I am very angry with him. I feel like hitting him, banging his head onto the wall and say, “She is MY friend. We have known each other since childhood. You can’t separate us like this.” Instead I ask her to convey my “Hi!” to him. Life is full of irony and sarcasm!
****
During Radhika’s absence, I have been getting closer to another colleague of mine. Her name is Bhavana. She sits right next to me in office. She’s a very shy and reserved girl. She had always wanted to be friends with me, but Radhika hated her. So, even I did not pay much attention to her but now she’s the only friend I have. For the first time in my life, I am doing things without telling Radhika. Bhavana and I spend a lot of time together, having a lot of fun.
One day when I enter our floor in the office, I am welcomed by the sound of laughter. A huge group of people was sitting at Bhavana’s desk. While I am walking past them to my cubicle, Bhavana stops me to introduce me to them.
“We did our BCA together,” she says, “Tomorrow is the wedding of Sanjay, another classmate of ours. We are discussing on what to buy for him.”
“Oh! May be you could get him a ring,” I suggest.
“He already has one and will get one more soon,” replies one guy with a twinkling in his eye.
“Then may be we could buy…”
He interrupts me and continues, “He has the ‘engagement ring’ now and he will get ‘suffer-ring’ tomorrow.”
Everyone burst into laughter. The conversation flows around the same topic. These comments trigger a stream of thoughts into my mind. I start feeling uncomfortable because of them.
“Excuse me!” I say, “I need to begin my work before my boss sees me idling.”
“Hey! Sit with us for sometime,” begs Bhavana, “Our manager has not come to the office yet.”
“But I still have a lot of pending tasks,” I lie and before they can persuade me further, I rush into my cubicle. But I can still hear bits of their conversation.
“Poor thing! He will lose his freedom tomorrow.”
“Another bakra in our group!”
“I have just sent him a mail asking him to enjoy his last day!”
“From now on he has to go home early to report to his life-time boss!”
Laughter and laughter! All this makes me feel so sick from inside.
(The story seems to be endless! Thanks for your patience! It will be continued in "Getting Married Part-V")
Monday, October 15, 2007
Getting Married Part-III
(Continuation of "Getting Married Part-II")
How could I forget that! She should have been happily married to Bhaskar if it were not for…
If Bhaskar’s mother fell ill after their engagement, was that Shilpi’s mistake? If his brother met with an accident, should she be blamed for it? Well, that’s what happened and ultimately the engagement was broken.
Amma’s words brought me back to the present. She was saying something about prayers and temples.
“I was not listening to you,” I admit to Amma, “What were you talking about?”
“I was telling that we all will pray to God everyday,” said Amma, “that nothing unpleasant should happen to the groom’s family and that Radhika’s wedding should happen uneventfully.”
“Yes, ma, I will. Shall we start from today?”
“Okay then. Let’s go to the temple this evening, once you return from office.”
She needs all our best wishes, our prayers and blessings. In fact, every bride-to-be needs all these, to protect her from the harshness of the principles of the society.
Why is life so partial!
“What’s wrong with you again?” asks Amma, seeing me toss my food around the plate.
“I can’t understand this girl at all.” I say.
“Which girl?”
“Don’t pretend to be ignorant,” I shout, “you very well know whom I’m referring to.”
“What happened between you and Radhika again?” she asks.
I try my best to control my fury. How can someone’s priority’s change so abruptly, so selfishly! How can someone behave so rudely!
I put my head on Amma’s lap and cry to my heart’s content. She patiently listens to my tale of woes.
“Everybody who knows Radhika knows that she’s a huge huge fan of Abhishek Bachchan. Her room is full of her posters. She never misses watching any of his movies.”
“Yes,” Amma agrees, “Now don’t tell me that you have fallen in love with Abhishek Bachchan.”
In spite of myself, I laughed at her silly joke.
“I got her first-day, first-show tickets for the movie ‘Guru’,” I continue, “as a surprise gift for her birthday and she refused to accompany me.”
“But why?” Amma asks in a surprise.
“She said she was meeting her Siddhu in the morning and will spend the entire day with him.”
“That’s so obvious.”
“What’s so obvious? Ditching a childhood friend for a two-month old fiancé?”
I rush out of the house unable to bear the reality. Will I also behave in the same manner, if I were engaged? Will I forget the whole world? Will my whole world be him and only him?
I walk and walk and walk, cover miles together and tire myself. I remember those days when we could not even bear a separation of a day. We would spend our summer vacations together, half of the time at her grandparents place and the other half at mine.
Where have those days gone?
(Sorry for this lengthy narrative.... It will be continued in "Getting Married Part-IV")
How could I forget that! She should have been happily married to Bhaskar if it were not for…
If Bhaskar’s mother fell ill after their engagement, was that Shilpi’s mistake? If his brother met with an accident, should she be blamed for it? Well, that’s what happened and ultimately the engagement was broken.
Amma’s words brought me back to the present. She was saying something about prayers and temples.
“I was not listening to you,” I admit to Amma, “What were you talking about?”
“I was telling that we all will pray to God everyday,” said Amma, “that nothing unpleasant should happen to the groom’s family and that Radhika’s wedding should happen uneventfully.”
“Yes, ma, I will. Shall we start from today?”
“Okay then. Let’s go to the temple this evening, once you return from office.”
She needs all our best wishes, our prayers and blessings. In fact, every bride-to-be needs all these, to protect her from the harshness of the principles of the society.
Why is life so partial!
“What’s wrong with you again?” asks Amma, seeing me toss my food around the plate.
“I can’t understand this girl at all.” I say.
“Which girl?”
“Don’t pretend to be ignorant,” I shout, “you very well know whom I’m referring to.”
“What happened between you and Radhika again?” she asks.
I try my best to control my fury. How can someone’s priority’s change so abruptly, so selfishly! How can someone behave so rudely!
I put my head on Amma’s lap and cry to my heart’s content. She patiently listens to my tale of woes.
“Everybody who knows Radhika knows that she’s a huge huge fan of Abhishek Bachchan. Her room is full of her posters. She never misses watching any of his movies.”
“Yes,” Amma agrees, “Now don’t tell me that you have fallen in love with Abhishek Bachchan.”
In spite of myself, I laughed at her silly joke.
“I got her first-day, first-show tickets for the movie ‘Guru’,” I continue, “as a surprise gift for her birthday and she refused to accompany me.”
“But why?” Amma asks in a surprise.
“She said she was meeting her Siddhu in the morning and will spend the entire day with him.”
“That’s so obvious.”
“What’s so obvious? Ditching a childhood friend for a two-month old fiancé?”
I rush out of the house unable to bear the reality. Will I also behave in the same manner, if I were engaged? Will I forget the whole world? Will my whole world be him and only him?
I walk and walk and walk, cover miles together and tire myself. I remember those days when we could not even bear a separation of a day. We would spend our summer vacations together, half of the time at her grandparents place and the other half at mine.
Where have those days gone?
(Sorry for this lengthy narrative.... It will be continued in "Getting Married Part-IV")
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Getting Married, Part-II
(Continuation of the post "Getting Married")
“Are you still angry with me?” asks Radhika.
“Of course not,” I reply and add, “What you did, was absolutely right?”
“Where is Siddharth working?”
“In Visakhapatnam.”
“But our company does not have a branch there.”
Radhika nods and is already lost in thought.
Why does the girl always have to be the sufferer? She is always made to adjust. Will the guy resign his job and look out for a new one in the city where the bride is working? Except in very rare cases, it is a big NO-NO.
“Radhika, in a way it is much better than going to the US,” I say, trying to cheer her up.
“Yes,” she agrees, “At least I will not be among foreigners and in a strange culture. In places like the US, I will have to do all the household work myself.”
“You will have to call and ask Auntie what has to be done during festivals…”
“And I don’t even know how to make Payasam or vadas.”
“There will be no mother-in-law with you, to teach our special delicacies to you.”
“Forget all that, most important of all, I will never be able stay that far from Mummy-Papa.”
Radhika seems relieved.
“Visakhapatnam is just a 18 hr journey from home,” I say.
“Hmm… Whenever I feel homesick, I will come and spend a week with you all and return happy.”
Home. What will be home for her? Her Husband’s place or her parents’ place?
“How is Radhika?” asks Amma, “She hardly visit us these days.”
“She must be fine,” I answer with a frown.
“Must be?” emphasizes Amma, “Have you both fought?”
“Nothing like that. She is always busy with her Siddhu.”
“Siddhu? You mean her fiancé?”
I nod.
“Don’t feel bad, dear!” says Amma trying to console me.
I feel bad, very bad for losing a nice friend like her. These days she hardly talks to me. Even in her busy schedule she can find time for her Siddhu, but none for me. Why should I not feel bad?
“When is the wedding?” asks Amma.
“In six months’ time,” I reply.
“Six months is too long a period,” ponders Amma.
“I don’t think so. It will help them understand each other better,” I retort back. I am used to supporting Radhika even when she’s wrong. I am very possessive and protective about her.
“I was not saying from that perspective.”
“Then?”
“You know what happened to Shilpi.”
How could I forget that! She should have been happily married to Bhaskar if it were not for…
(to be continued in "Getting Married, Part-III)
“Are you still angry with me?” asks Radhika.
“Of course not,” I reply and add, “What you did, was absolutely right?”
“Where is Siddharth working?”
“In Visakhapatnam.”
“But our company does not have a branch there.”
Radhika nods and is already lost in thought.
Why does the girl always have to be the sufferer? She is always made to adjust. Will the guy resign his job and look out for a new one in the city where the bride is working? Except in very rare cases, it is a big NO-NO.
“Radhika, in a way it is much better than going to the US,” I say, trying to cheer her up.
“Yes,” she agrees, “At least I will not be among foreigners and in a strange culture. In places like the US, I will have to do all the household work myself.”
“You will have to call and ask Auntie what has to be done during festivals…”
“And I don’t even know how to make Payasam or vadas.”
“There will be no mother-in-law with you, to teach our special delicacies to you.”
“Forget all that, most important of all, I will never be able stay that far from Mummy-Papa.”
Radhika seems relieved.
“Visakhapatnam is just a 18 hr journey from home,” I say.
“Hmm… Whenever I feel homesick, I will come and spend a week with you all and return happy.”
Home. What will be home for her? Her Husband’s place or her parents’ place?
“How is Radhika?” asks Amma, “She hardly visit us these days.”
“She must be fine,” I answer with a frown.
“Must be?” emphasizes Amma, “Have you both fought?”
“Nothing like that. She is always busy with her Siddhu.”
“Siddhu? You mean her fiancé?”
I nod.
“Don’t feel bad, dear!” says Amma trying to console me.
I feel bad, very bad for losing a nice friend like her. These days she hardly talks to me. Even in her busy schedule she can find time for her Siddhu, but none for me. Why should I not feel bad?
“When is the wedding?” asks Amma.
“In six months’ time,” I reply.
“Six months is too long a period,” ponders Amma.
“I don’t think so. It will help them understand each other better,” I retort back. I am used to supporting Radhika even when she’s wrong. I am very possessive and protective about her.
“I was not saying from that perspective.”
“Then?”
“You know what happened to Shilpi.”
How could I forget that! She should have been happily married to Bhaskar if it were not for…
(to be continued in "Getting Married, Part-III)
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Getting married!
The cell phone beeped and there was an SMS. An SMS from one of my closest degree friends. It just had three words: "I got engaged." This aroused a mixture of emotions in me. Though we both parted right after our BSc., we were in touch through phone and e-mail. She would make it a point to call me every now and then. And it was through her special interest that we met at least twice a year. I hope she feels that even I have reciprocated her affection and love.
With most of my childhood friends, college friends, PG friends and colleagues getting married, a thought occurred to me. These friends have inspired me to write this story. All the characters in this narration are fictitious but some of the incidents have been influenced by the real-life experiences.
“I got engaged.”
These are the only three words in the SMS. I cannot believe my eyes. My best friend, Radhika, has got engaged and I don’t even have a clue about it. Bad! Very Bad! I give her a call immediately. But the line is busy.
An hour later, I try her number; it is still busy. I send her an SMS, asking her to call me at once. Another hour has gone by and I am yet to receive a call from her. I get irritated. I rush to get down two floors to find her.
Radhika and I have been friends since childhood. We have been residing in the same lane, studied at the same school, completed our graduation together and by sheer luck got placed in the same company.
She is busy listening to songs.
“Hey! Why didn’t you call me back?” I ask her in anger, “What’s wrong with your mobile?”
She turns around and puts a finger on her lips gesturing me to be calm. My eyes fall on the mobile on her lap. She is not listening to songs; those are the earphones of her mobile. I try grabbing the cell while she tries her best to pull it away from me. She mumbles something into the mouthpiece and ends her call.
“Why did you do that?” she asks.
“Do what?”
“Snatched my cell?”
“I have been trying to reach you for the past two hours.”
“Oh! I am sorry,” she says and adds sheepishly, “I was talking to Siddhu.”
I try to place the name.
“Siddhu?”
“Siddharth, my fiancé.”
The word ‘fiancé’ reminds me of the real reason why I wanted to meet her.
“You get engaged,” I say and add, “and your best friend does not even get to know about it.”
“I am so sorry, dear,” she replies, “Let me explain.”
I am on my bed trying to grasp what Radhika has told me. I remember the first time when Radhika’s parents found a match for her. What was his name? Vinay. We all had a look at his photos, chatted with him through Yahoo and Gtalk and spoke with him over phone. During those days, Radhika was the sole target of our discussion. We would tease her day and night. Though initially reluctant for marriage, after getting acquainted with Vinay, she accepted the reality that she had to get married some day.
On the day of the engagement, everyone was very excited. We had invited all our close relatives and friends. Radhika had a blushing glow on her face. She looked gorgeous in her pink sari. Just before the function, Radhika’s parents were in a very serious talk with Vinay’s parents. We saw the unpleasant side of them. They were finding fault with each and everything. No one was able to understand what was in their minds. All of a sudden, Vinay intervened and declared that he did not want to marry Radhika. He said that he was going to the US for an onsite assignment and would be away from home for at least 3 years. We insisted that the engagement be done and then we would have the wedding after he returned. But he refused. Everyone was heart-broken.
I vividly remember the way Radhika had reacted to the situation. Though her life was shattered, she never lost her calm. She continued with her day-to-day activities. But the people around her never forgot the incident. She was always reminded of her broken-engagement in their pitiful and sympathetic looks.
After a couple of months, we got a wedding card from one of our common friends and colleague, Priya. We were shocked to know that the bridegroom was the same Vinay. We realized that Priya got to know of Vinay through Radhika. While Radhika and Vinay were courting, Priya started sending mails and messages to him. They started liking each other. And before Vinay could realize what was going on, he was already deeply in love with her. But his parents had fixed his wedding with Radhika. He eventually convinced his parents and they agreed as she was from a richer family. But why did they play all that drama? They could have told everything frankly. Yes, it would hurt, but at least it would have been better than the hypocrisy. Why did Vinay hide the truth from Radhika and continued to fake love?
Amidst all these thoughts, I drift into asleep.
(Continued in "Getting Married, Part-II")
With most of my childhood friends, college friends, PG friends and colleagues getting married, a thought occurred to me. These friends have inspired me to write this story. All the characters in this narration are fictitious but some of the incidents have been influenced by the real-life experiences.
“I got engaged.”
These are the only three words in the SMS. I cannot believe my eyes. My best friend, Radhika, has got engaged and I don’t even have a clue about it. Bad! Very Bad! I give her a call immediately. But the line is busy.
An hour later, I try her number; it is still busy. I send her an SMS, asking her to call me at once. Another hour has gone by and I am yet to receive a call from her. I get irritated. I rush to get down two floors to find her.
Radhika and I have been friends since childhood. We have been residing in the same lane, studied at the same school, completed our graduation together and by sheer luck got placed in the same company.
She is busy listening to songs.
“Hey! Why didn’t you call me back?” I ask her in anger, “What’s wrong with your mobile?”
She turns around and puts a finger on her lips gesturing me to be calm. My eyes fall on the mobile on her lap. She is not listening to songs; those are the earphones of her mobile. I try grabbing the cell while she tries her best to pull it away from me. She mumbles something into the mouthpiece and ends her call.
“Why did you do that?” she asks.
“Do what?”
“Snatched my cell?”
“I have been trying to reach you for the past two hours.”
“Oh! I am sorry,” she says and adds sheepishly, “I was talking to Siddhu.”
I try to place the name.
“Siddhu?”
“Siddharth, my fiancé.”
The word ‘fiancé’ reminds me of the real reason why I wanted to meet her.
“You get engaged,” I say and add, “and your best friend does not even get to know about it.”
“I am so sorry, dear,” she replies, “Let me explain.”
I am on my bed trying to grasp what Radhika has told me. I remember the first time when Radhika’s parents found a match for her. What was his name? Vinay. We all had a look at his photos, chatted with him through Yahoo and Gtalk and spoke with him over phone. During those days, Radhika was the sole target of our discussion. We would tease her day and night. Though initially reluctant for marriage, after getting acquainted with Vinay, she accepted the reality that she had to get married some day.
On the day of the engagement, everyone was very excited. We had invited all our close relatives and friends. Radhika had a blushing glow on her face. She looked gorgeous in her pink sari. Just before the function, Radhika’s parents were in a very serious talk with Vinay’s parents. We saw the unpleasant side of them. They were finding fault with each and everything. No one was able to understand what was in their minds. All of a sudden, Vinay intervened and declared that he did not want to marry Radhika. He said that he was going to the US for an onsite assignment and would be away from home for at least 3 years. We insisted that the engagement be done and then we would have the wedding after he returned. But he refused. Everyone was heart-broken.
I vividly remember the way Radhika had reacted to the situation. Though her life was shattered, she never lost her calm. She continued with her day-to-day activities. But the people around her never forgot the incident. She was always reminded of her broken-engagement in their pitiful and sympathetic looks.
After a couple of months, we got a wedding card from one of our common friends and colleague, Priya. We were shocked to know that the bridegroom was the same Vinay. We realized that Priya got to know of Vinay through Radhika. While Radhika and Vinay were courting, Priya started sending mails and messages to him. They started liking each other. And before Vinay could realize what was going on, he was already deeply in love with her. But his parents had fixed his wedding with Radhika. He eventually convinced his parents and they agreed as she was from a richer family. But why did they play all that drama? They could have told everything frankly. Yes, it would hurt, but at least it would have been better than the hypocrisy. Why did Vinay hide the truth from Radhika and continued to fake love?
Amidst all these thoughts, I drift into asleep.
(Continued in "Getting Married, Part-II")
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