Marriages are made in .........................

Where are these made anyway??

I do not believe that if you do good things in your life you will go to heaven and if you do bad things you will go to hell. In short, I do not believe in the concept of heaven and hell. Period! But without the use of the words “heaven” and “hell”, the story I am about to share(which is, by the way, based on a true life incident to the best of my memory), just cannot be completed. I mean you cannot frame sentences like “Marriages are made in CCDs.” or “All coconuts broke loose.”! Ah! Let’s leave these Arun Lol-isms aside for now.

Now, there are generally two ways happy marriages happen (Yeah! Yeah! It’s not a myth!) among the people that I know. The first way is ‘relative’ly simple(if you don’t worry about your relatives,i.e.). The boy and girl fall in love, they convince their respective families and with their blessings, they get married(sounds simple, doesn’t it?).

The second process is a “wee bit” longer. Here’s how it works out. Firstly, the families of the boy and the girl make it clear(sometimes they don’t even have to) to all their relatives and every person in their community that their child has reached a marriageable age. And the frantic search for the perfect match begins. Bio-datas, photos, bio-datas, photos, bio-datas, photos! Phew! Now when the prospective bio-datas and pictures are successfully exchanged through the negotiators (the relatives or the community people, of course!), these people set the meetings. Not quite unlike business deals, you see, with brokers! It is mutually decided whether the girl’s family will first see the boy or the other way round. When the families meet the prospective match for their child, there are gazillions of question answers and in 90% of the cases(ok, I might be being too harsh on our system!), then and there it is decided, whether the boy or girl would be perfect to be married to their child. In mundane eventuality, the boy and the girl meet and in one meeting decide that Yes! This is the Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie of my life! or No! Get the hell out of here you moron/she-moron/oxymoron! And if they agree, they are happily married!

Well, that’s how it goes. As for me, I was a beneficiary of the second method.  Here are my memoirs:

Friday, 18^th December, 2009:

It was one of those boring days at office. Christmas was coming near. The markets weren’t moving. Had lost some money in a few trades. But nothing significant. Was also talking to Anshul about watching Rocket Singh before going home for winter holidays. In all earnestness, my mind was wandering on the thoughts of the party Rahul, Saini and I were about to throw the next day. All of us had had a good previous quarter and made some good money. Hence, the party.

Here I was, sitting quietly, thinking about the party, when suddenly my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Took it out. “Dadaji” calling! Took the call. Here goes the conversation translated from Marwari:

Me: Pranaam Dada! How are you?

Dada: I am fine. You are coming to Nokha on Sunday.

Me: Me? Nokha? Sunday? Why? Is everything alright?

The cell that rang!!

Dadaji: Yeah. Everything is alright. You have to meet this girl from Surat. Her name is Manisha Bagri. I have sent you her picture on e-mail. I have also sent the picture to all the other family members. Bye.

Now if ever the phrase “All hell broke loose” was to be used somewhere, it was then!  No! No! No! This isn’t happening to me. I don’t want to be married now. No way! Mummmyyyyyyyyyyyyy! I didn’t remember sending any bio-data pictures to anybody. (To me, it is shocking people spend hundreds of rupees making their portfolio pictures just for marriage purpose. I find it too ridiculous). My mind began to wander so as to which picture of mine had Dadaji sent to the girl’s family. And like a solution to a stupid riddle, the answer was in front of me. Just a few days back, Dadaji had asked me to send me a few photographs to him. Cunning as I thought I was I sent him a few neatly clicked passport size photographs(smug, eh!! ;-)) But seems my Dadaji went one up. He sent those passport size photographs and more bizarrely, the Bagris liked me fine :O

Anyways, my mind was then working like Chacha Chaudhary so as to how I would evade going to Nokha on Sunday. And again, I solved the riddle just too quickly. It was simple. After the party tomorrow, I’d just say to him that it’s very late. There is no train at night from Jaipur to Nokha. The buses also won’t be available. Hence, I won’t be able to come. It was just too simple. I relaxed. There was no need to worry now.

Calm and confident, I moved towards my chair. And suddenly, the despo in me took over. Let us see the picture. What if she actually is the Amrita Rao kind of girl I had always dreamt of marrying. So I opened my mail account. Saw the mail from the nokha cyber café guy, opened the attachment, and all expectations came crashing down. No way! The picture was pathetically taken, even though in a studio. And the first thought was, she’ll look so fat with me. It ain’t happening! Closed the mailbox. Back to my own world.

Saturday, 19^th December, 2009:

This was a fun night. We had a party at Sheeshas. It was a very cool party. Almost all of our colleagues were there. A few of our seniors came too. The food was good. The hukka was also good. So were the drinks for those who had those (Yeah! I was a perfect teetotaler then). All in all, everything went according to the plan. After bidding good bye to all, Anshul and I were joined by Racy at around 11:30 p.m. Just to confirm, all three of us went to the bus stand that there was no bus going to Nokha or Bikaner after 11 p.m. I was happy. I called Dadaji at almost 12, which I would never do in normal circumstance. The conversation translated:

Me: Pranaam Dada. The party just got over. I tried the best I could, but there is no conveyance from Jaipur to Nokha at this time. No trains, no buses, nothing. I won’t be able to come. You please say sorry to them.

Dada: Hire a taxi. Reach Nokha before 2 p.m. anyhow!

Me: Ok!

To be continued……

Part 2 & Part 3