Scenes From A Marriage

I think only a misandric person could have formulated the customs in a South Indian marriage. How else can you explain the dhaare ceremony where the bride will be in a beautiful saree and the groom in a ridiculously translucent white kachche? The bride gets her hair beautifully styled and the groom gets a mysore peta to cover his receding hairline. Utmost attention is given to the bride's face for her to look divine, while all that the groom gets is two drishti bottu (to ward off the evil eye) placed with such precision that guarantees maximum possible pathetic looks! Trust me, every man finds his woman absolutely stunning in the wedding saree. But, I am yet to meet a woman who thought her husband looked mind blowing in that white kachche. Not just that, I spent the last week before marriage running from store to store searching for that elusive white underwear (you guessed it right, to go along with the translucent white kachche) while the wife (the then fiance) was shopping for her jewelry and taking tips from parlor aunty on how to look even more stunning.

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Feminists who scream hoarse about patriarchy and all that crap have no clue how men are actually discriminated in the society. Men just do the "I am the boss" act, but its the women who pull all the strings. Women in south india have this habit of gifting each other "blouse piece" during any religious or social occasion. Men usually get nothing, the lucky ones at the most get a kerchief. If you are in the closest family circles, the women get nice sarees when all you get is a lousy "shirt piece" (yes, the white shirt with blue stripes or brown checks) Researches have shown that the gift shirt pieces get redistributed 5 times more than gifted sarees.

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The most used phrase on the reception stage by friends/relatives is "Please bring him/her home sometime". Apart from "Happy married life" of course. I have already promised 1583 people that we, the newly wed couple would "definitely" visit their home. Even if we visit one family every weekend, I will almost be 60 by the time I fulfill my promise. By then, we will not be a newly wed couple though.

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"Remember me?" is the most tricky question, often asked by that over enthusiastic uncle on stage when you are already on the verge of collapsing due to dehydration and bright video recorder lights. "Hmm, yes uncle" and a sheepish smile works most of the times, while your mind is busy guessing if he is a distant cousin of dad, an old colleague of mom or someone who was supposed to be going to the wedding in the adjacent choultry. The even-more-enthusiastic uncles dont stop there, they come up with a "Tell me who I am". Seeing the name written on the gift cover from the corner of your eye helps sometimes (It can backfire too, if he is giving the gift on behalf of his aged father who could not attend the wedding) "I know uncle, but I dont know exactly how to tell it" is the safest, most innocent-looking and honest-but-not-rude answer.

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Sanskrit was my first language in high school and college. I understand it quite decently. But, I have no idea what all things I have promised to the poojari during the marriage ceremony. Just like knowing english does not ensure full understanding of what you have agreed upon while signing up your home loan papers. You just have to do it blindly. And trust your lucky stars!