| Rites
of marriage
Weddings give
parents a chance to hitch up their Single children. And God
help you if you're one such child, says Indu L Prasad
Another Sunday was here and my mother was trying to wake me up. I
could hear her telling me that it was nearing eight o'clock and
that I had to go for a cousin's wedding. After stealing sundry
"five more minutes", I dragged myself out of bed. After
another hour and a half of fighting against attending the wedding
of a person I'd met precisely four times, I found myself trudging
along with my mother, looking for a rickshaw.
My reason for not going to the wedding was simple - I didn't know
the bride or the bridegroom very well and I didn't care that they
were getting
married. Why did I have to be part of their celebration when I
didn't feel
like celebrating? My mother's reasons for getting me to go were
equally
simple. It was a family gathering - the best time and place to
hunt for a
prospective bridegroom for her only daughter, namely me.
I never could understand the penchant parents have for dragging
their
unwilling but "very eligible" sons and daughters to be
introduced to others' equally unwilling "very eligible"
daughters or sons, as the case may be. Match-making between
cousins, nephews, nieces, even eligible and young uncles of the
other party seems to be a universal phenomenon.
But as far as I was concerned, it really took the fun out of
meeting relatives and celebrating an occasion.
So, there I was, feeling like bait for a shark and more dressed up
than the bride. My mother had made sure that I was all armed and
ready for the best catch at the wedding. The first "boy"
I was introduced to was anything but that - he looked at least 36
(though his aunt claimed that he was all of 27). Of the
10-minute-long conversation we had, the only thing I remember is
that he and my first crush worked in the same company.
I never could understand the penchant parents have for dragging
their
unwilling but "very eligible" sons and daughters to be
introduced to others' equally unwilling "very eligible"
daughters or sons.
Next was a wannabe musician, the rock kind. He was even armed with
an ear stud. After going through the humdrum of the finer points
of rock with him, I was saved by yet another scheming mother with
her son in tow. This one was the typical Indian mother's dream, a
software engineer based in the US. I could see my mom beaming and
encouraging me to go ahead.
She seemed to forget that I am wary of such guys. The
"prospective" wanted to know by when I could get my
visa, when we could get married and when we could fly to his cosy
nest in a vague corner half-way across the world. Suddenly, it
felt like the movie I had wanted to watch for the last three weeks
was a much better option than what I was being put through at the
moment.
After making a lame excuse about wanting to remind my mother about
something she had forgotten, I beat a hasty exit. I went up to my
mom, told her that sitting through cross-examination with wannabe
bridegrooms and their wannabe mothers was not my idea of a
relaxing Sunday.
My mother had by then given up on getting the best catch of the
day for her daughter. I knew that there would be other marriages
and other aunties and their sons to contend with, but at least,
for the day, I was off the hook. |
