Saturday, December 4, 2010

broodstock - part 2

The wedding of the season got called off.

DDLJ, the cousin thanks to whom I was being forced to squish myself into fishtail ghagras and gota shoes, decided to call off her wedding last minute.

Actually the calling off was pretty filmi. Her parents are going to give cards and sweets to the boy’s house. Apparently that’s tradition. The first set goes to them. When the phone rings, and DDLJ tells them, “Turn around, I’m calling it off.”

The reason cited was ‘he was too laidback.’

Well, whatever.

The sad part was that it left many of my aunts with wardrobes that threatened to burst. First DDLJ was to marry in summer, so everyone had bought chiffons saris. In keeping with yash chopra tradition. Then the to-be bride and groom had an accident while coming back from a weekend trip. Which in itself caused a lot of raised eyebrows, “Accha, they had gone for the weekend to Jaipur? Bhaiya, no one tells us all this. We thought she was working that weekend!”

Yeah, she should have just sent engraved postcards to all the relatives. “Dear Masi, just to inform that that since we both stay with our parents, and it’s really difficult to have sex in peace, we’re off to Jaipur for a debauched weekend. See you when I get back. PS: let me know if you want anything from there.”

Anyway, so after the accident, the wedding got pushed to winter. And the aunts took the blow on the chin. They packed away their new chiffons and like industrious ants got down to buying silks. Of course new saris meant new shoes, new bags and even in some cases new jewellery.

The phone lines went crazy. As did the shopkeepers of karol bagh.

But finally they were ready for D-Day.

And then this. Cancel, kaput, nada.

Till the Big Boy came down. The reason Big Boy and his whole gaggle came down was because they were tired of postponing tickets and cancelling them. And in the bargain losing money. So they decided to hell with it, even if there’s no wedding, let’s just go have a family reunion. I was duly informed, and pretty thrilled. No wedding pressure, no fishtail ghagra, just fun with the yash chopra cast and crew.

So Big boy and gang arrive. I call them. I can hear the whole family at the back with much shrieking and laughter and “how much ice in your drink”.

I tell Big Boy I’m arriving on so and so day, and why is everyone behaving like they’ve gone crazy.

He says, “Because I’m getting married. In India. In February.

Oh bugger. Fishtail again.


relativelytruthful said...

i love your life.

i also really cannot picture you in a fishtail ghagra.

Aneela Z said...

It could be worse, they might have insisted you get into the ghaghra and sit at the mandap. "Bhai, hum larkey waley hain, larki leykar jaayengey".
(Whether its DDLJ or I hate (Indian) Luv Stories)

Bunny said...

I love everything about this blog
Especially the tail ending rage at conformity

Need your email address (for something more specific than invitation to mutual admiration society)