Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Arranged Marriage Blues - Part 1

Entrapment!

Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be an animal in a zoo? That too, if you are a star attraction at the zoo – maybe something like a Chimpanzee or a Gorilla? Do you know what it would feels like to see people sticking their face at the glass window, making strange faces – literally reversing the position of who the animal is? Well, I suddenly realized what it feels to in such a situation!

On Sunday, the 16th of December, I had to undergo this horrendous trial of having to sit through a tormenting situation – a situation filled with extreme pain and mental trauma - the pain of having to *see* a girl.

You see, I am planning to get married. So, I have to undergo this ritualistic trial of *seeing a girl*. Essentially, the process is quite simple. You go to girl’s place. You sit with all the people gawking at you with wide-open eyes boring into you – as if they want to literally see through you and enter into your mind – something like Lord Voldemort in Harry Potter. Then enters the girl. By this time, you are generally keeping your throat from going hoarse by drinking copious amounts of water. If the girl is a knock-off eye-catching beauty, you gulp the water and sit up with a bit of hiccup. If not, you gulp down water – something like flushing the contents down the drain. But, you see – in my life, things seldom happen as they way it should. And so begins a saga – the saga of the Parrot Dad.

Parrot Dad arranges the meet
You see, in this story, there is only one primary character, the dad of the girl. He is the ever-present, all-knowing being who is perpetually in a hurry to get things completed. So, the saga begins when this dad noticed my resume lying around, unused, unseen and unheard of at one of the temples near Jayanagar. He looked at it and was stuck instantly by my beatific, gullible and vulnerable look. Instantly, he noted down the details and no time, he was on a walk to the address given in the resume.

You see, the address given in the resume was for my Uncle’s house. So, this girl’s dad went to my Uncle’s place. Unfortunately, my Uncle wasn’t at his place. Not to be put down, the determined dad knocked on the doors of the owner – who happens to be one of our distant relatives. So, sitting there at an unknown person’s house (for him that is), he regales the hapless owner about his job, his wife, his beautiful daughter. He then tells how he has nurtured his beautiful angel like a little parrot – never ill-treating her and always ensuring she had her dose of chilli for lunch and dinner. By the time the story ended, my Uncle had returned and there was a repeat telecast of the performance – this time for my Uncle and Aunt. And so, my relatives impressed by the stellar performance duly informed us about this wonderful girl whose proposal had just come through their wide open doors. We too were hooked. And so a decision was made to make the two love birds meet to strike up a harmonious chord.

(Please note, there is a lot more to the story wherein the dad called my dad some 2 times daily with the side-effect of nearly driving him bald – but, that’s digressing!
Oh yeah for the uninformed, in kannada, we ‘maglina gini tara belisidde’ meaning, I nurtured my baby girl like a parrot – so the title.)

The fateful meeting
And so, on the auspicious day of 16th of December, 4:15 pm, we entered the zone of the all-powerful, all-knowing, ever-present dad of the girl. It was his house, his lair, the nest where the beautiful parrot of his had grown up.

Well, the house was near Kanakpura road and to get there, we had to go through a spine-breaking journey over near-roadless pathways. Our host though had arranged for a car to tide us over the journey.

And so, we went into the house and were sitting expectantly. Everyone was pretty excited – my mom, dad, uncle and aunt. Strangely, I wasn’t. Somehow, I had sensed the ominous clouds that were hovering over our heads….

The meeting began with the ever-present dad firing away a rapid slavo of questions: So, where do you work? Oh consistent technologies is it? How many people are there in your company? Oh 45,000 is it? So, where did you stay in Hyderabad? What was the rent? How many brothers does dad have? By then, it was too much. The Dad had never spent so much time trying to know someone else. When you have an ego as big as the Eiffel Tower, it is tough seeking answers from others. And so, he reverted back to his story.

He was working in Amsandra – and knew my uncle for all of 20 years – such good friends no? (My Uncle had met him 20 years ago and again the previous week – how this qualified as 20 years of friendship is a point worth debating on. But, in the presence of Dad, there was no question of debates. Everything was a fact to be accepted as an axiom). He had written papers on mining of gold that the bloody suckers from Poona University and Delhi University had copied away! Tsk. Tsk. The politics in job was horrible. The promotion cycle is screwed up! IT is better no. No matter. Dad was a busy person. He had to go for a conference to Hyderabad. He had prepared a CD for it. “Do you want to watch it?” asked the hard-working Dad. Graciously, we said no and escaped from a horror movie.

Upma and tea
At this time, I was feeling a bit restless. You see, the point of us going to the house was to see this mythical beauty of a parrot. Instead, all I had seen was the Dad and the 1.5 seat mom. I was already wondering about the plight of the poor son-in-law who would fall into the clutches of this beastly Dad. But, I was proved all wrong. My misjudgment had never been worse! The Dad proved that he was more beastly even beyond imagination.. Just read on..

And so, after having told us all about work, job, politics and enquiring about consistent technologies (do anybody of you know any company by this name?) Dad asked us a question. “To see or not to see?” Well, like good guests, we said, anything is fine. Big Mistake.
So, Dad proposed that we eat. And so we ate. We ate Upma. You see, in arranged marriages, the Lord in heaven has pre-ordained that whenever a guy accepts that he is tired of being alone and wants to have a companion, he should pass through a cathartic treatment of purging for all the sins that he has committed as a bachelor. And the only way to do it is by making the guy eat Upma.(See Principle of Arranged Marriage)


Priciple of Arranged Marriage
The basic principle of arranged marriage is simple. You see a girl. You eat upma. You either keep seeing a girl until you find the right one, coupled with eating upma. Or you keep eating upma until you tire of it and decide on the girl who happens to be the reason for you eating the upma. So, you see, the deciding factor in arranged marriage is the upma and not the girl. You last till you crave for upma. By the time you are done with arranged marriage, the word upma will trigger sever emotional trauma. I wonder if Human Rights group have heard about this horrible treatment. Maybe, I should tip them off!

And in case you’ve always wondered why Divorce rate is low in marriages – it is because of Upma. Think. Who with a right mind would want to go through the trauma of upmas again? Thinking over this horror, husbands make do with wives and live happily ever after!


So, coming back to our story, upma was served minus the girl. Normally, you eat upma, stare at the girl. Girl generally does not eat upma but only stare at you. So, your throat that is already constricted gets still more narrow. You generally get hiccups. There is a drama and questioning if the upma is so spicy. There’s the sheepish smile and the red-faced reply that upma is not spicy. And life goes on. Not so at the house of Dad. Here, I ate merrily. Dad was too engrossed in his talking. So, I ate upma and jamoon in peace!

Then, tea was served. The Dad does not like tea. And we heard a 10 minute lecture on why his wife’s side prefer tea while his family prefers coffee. This lead to a discussion on the innumerable brothers and sisters of the girl’s mom and the Dad. By this time, I was full and looking forward to get up and go home. After all, my job was done! But, as fate would have it this was not the case.

Enter Parrot
Finally, the Dad realized the purpose of meeting – making the boy and girl meet. And so, he dispatched his wife to unlock the cage and get the parrot out. And so came out the parrot. The beautiful parrot looked like a sleeping beauty – meaning she looked like she’d just got out of bed, hair rumpled, clothes crumpled and face disgruntled.

She sat down on the sofa infront of me but, never even meeting my look. She was engrossed in the Mummy Special dance program on Sony Entertainment Television. And so, Dad graciously said,. “Here’s our beautiful (?) daughter. You can ask any question you want?” Well, I wanted to ask something like, “So, you brushed your teeth?” But, I was not entirely convinced that this would be taken in the right spirit. And so, I gave my famous “I am shit-scared of this drama- I want to get the hell out” smile and wrenched my hand.

Since I did not venture to ask any questions, the Dad took upon this responsibility too. So, we, the audience watched Dad the interviewer ask questions to the Girl who could not be disturbed from Mommy Special. It went on like, “So, where do you work?” “zzz” “How many people in your company?” “I did not count” “What do you do at work?” “zzz”

Gathering an iota of courage (probably from the Upma that I just ate) I ventured to ask one question. “Since I am non-IT, can you tell me what is the work that you do?” To which, my dad who seemed to have taken a cue from the Dad replied for the entire period of time. And so, with one sole question of mine, the Q&A session was interrupted by the door bell. Girl got up and walked inside.

Visitors to the Zoo
When the Dad opened the door, there were a few neighbors. They had come over to hand over wedding invitation. The Dad being the ever gracious host told us about the neighbors – these neighbors suspiciously looked like relatives of the Dad. Auntie visitor sat down and gave me one good look with the question, “so this is the boy?” To which the Dad replied, “Yes, he is an engineer. From consistent technology”. Eeeks!

I-am-the-greatest Uncle was looking down at me. The Dad told us that this Uncle had written books on horoscope. No idea who read such horror. I was staring more intently into the dregs of water in my tumbler lest the penetrating eyes of Uncle scorched me! After about 10 minutes of mutual talk, Uncle wanted to leave but, Aunty who wanted to have milk stay put. Only after milk did she get up and leave. By them, I had undergone three examinations by the three visitors, Uncle, Aunty and the ever-grinning Uncle’s friend.

Next started the walk in of the Dad’s brothers. Enter brother 1. Again, the same gawking look. Same introduction – me working in consistent (Eeks again!) Enter brother 2 – repeat story. Enter brother 1 & 2 – some more story on how IT stressful. By the end of this discourse, I was thanking God that I was not already resting comfortably 7 feet under the ground but, hey, I was marked (oops destined) for the parrot and I had to be the Lucky One.

Next came in Brother1’s two sons. Then came in Brother2’s two daughters. Same introductions. Then the trickle of visitors turned into a tide of relatives. It was like a sitting in front of a cinema auditorium – you see one person, then another and suddenly a deluge of people rushing out. We were all amazed. How on earth could all this cinema-full crowd remained inside the house without uttering a sound for such a long time?

Oh yes, for all this time, the girl was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was time for her evening chilli. Don’t know. When relatives aged between 7-10 years started to trickle in, my mom told me to get up and flee. And so, I got and fled. Without casting a glance back at the house of the Dad and the Parrot Girl, we escaped out and rushed back to civilization where people were quite normal, not too intelligent and all knowing. Now, I am waiting for the Dad to call us and ask what our opinion is. Do you, my favorite readers want to hazard a guess?

14 comments:

Nisha said...

aah, thats an interesting meeting!

must have politely declined??

LessThanFerpect said...

OMG, Akshay!! The horror, the horror.... I hate upma too so I see you've endured an ordeal too horrible for words. When will you get your Damayanti?

Prerana said...

hey,
well accidentaly came across your blog. intresting, very interesting i would say.
keep them coming

Akshay said...

@Nisha: Well after all the ordeal, the dad never called! So, I guess it's a no from the girl's side! I am so heart-broken! hehehe

@Suchi: Its not like I hate Upma - i am not a big fan of upma without onions! If only the rules of culture can be bent a bit, it'd be so much better...

@Prerna: Thanks a lot for having a look - I'd like to write more - but then it'd mean enduring more Upma (without onions)! And that gives me sleepless nights!

Do have a look at the post *nuptial knots* and *writing matrimonial profile - for dummies* - some more posts on the great arranged marriage system of india!

D-H-A-V-A-L said...

dude,

your narrations style is hilarious.., i dont know if there exists a novel or a compilation of arranged marriage meets, but if they existed, this episode should go in there..

i am about to venture in to a series of similar adventure starting november ... looking forward to a better experience

Akshay said...

Thanks a lot Dhaval...

Wish you all the best on your adventure.. and believe me - it is such experiences that makes the arranged marriages so much more exciting! Hope you find your soul mate soon..

Unknown said...

"""The beautiful parrot looked like a sleeping beauty – meaning she looked like she’d just got out of bed, hair rumpled, clothes crumpled and face disgruntled."""
"""“Here’s our beautiful (?) daughter. You can ask any question you want?” Well, I wanted to ask something like, “So, you brushed your teeth?”"""

Have you ever thought what will the girl think if she happens to read your blog??

Just a suggestion,you can be less sarcastic and more humble,, you have got great narrative skill,dont waste them in talking ill about people..
peace!

Akshay said...

@ Ankita - Thanks for the suggestion. Yes, I do get carried away a lot sometimes. I'll try to make it more humble. Thanks for the compliments on my writing style!

Akshay said...

Thanks Hum! Well, at least my *suffering* has not caused a grief to everyone... and that's good :-)

Venkat said...

Nice narration Akshay!.. rib tickling one... though its a horrible one for you.. :). Luckily i was blessed with just one show... not many... saw just one parrot and i got caged..

cheers and looking forward to join our club - Married Souls in Peace.

Maverick said...

I just happened to come across ur blog accidentally and this is one of the most hilarious posts I've ever read. I just couldn't stop laughing. Believe me, I'm going through the conduit right now and as a strict rule we never give upma to the guy's side when they come visiting us :)
But on a more serious note: have u ever tried finding out how the girl would feel sitting before the guy's side when they coming visiting??? She has to go through more than what you could have endured and all this I'm telling from my personal experience.
As a general read, this post is good, but if you can tone down the sarcasm then probably it would be better. Cheers

S.. Diva said...

you got a series of great posts man..
esp the arranged marriage series

Anonymous said...

its nice to be important but more important to be nice!
your post if one of the most offensive and unfunny posts ever ,ive seen your picture and can assure u that you are a mile long from being close to handsome and you arent an ivy-league grad either,the poor girls dad was being nice to you , i suspect youve never even had a girlfriend ever in your life, so even though this post is 2-3 years old, i hopr you eat humble pie

Akshay said...

@Anon: I'm sorry if you felt offended. This was supposed to be a funny blog.

Things happened later on that I've not written which made me feel that way I did. It's been long and I don't want to bring it up.

Bottom line: If you are being invited to a house, at least the basic courtesy holds. For a first meeting, it is nice to downplay. And more importantly, if the girl herself is not interested then why humiliate by asking a guy to come home and then sell things like car, property and house? This is not exactly being nice.