Punju Wedding

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I attended my first Punjabi wedding. Technically, I did not. I left before the wedding started but after dinner was served.
A friend (who used to be close) got married. We (me and another common friend) along with KC were invited for the engagement and wedding/reception. This common friend- lets call him D, is also a Punjabi. The three of us have worked together and now are in separate companies. Like D said, “you are my friends from work”. Yeah, he has a lot of categorizations- friends from school, college, work, current work, family friends, relatives etc…. too many compartments to fit all the friends in his life.
But before I get to the wedding, I need to talk about what I wore… or what I did not wear.
In 2008, when I had just moved to Gurgaon I was invited to the wedding of the brother of a colleague. I had no intention of attending but a call in the evening from a senior made me change my mind. I had just moved from sales to the HQ and my clothes reflected that- daily wear, semi formals, comfy clothes and nothing for a party/wedding. With no time to shop I pulled on trousers and a top which would fit party wear. Big mistake. I was mortified when I saw the turnout. Colleagues who looked drab at work had transformed into swans. So, when another colleague was getting married a year later I took the time and money to buy a wedding dress. That is the only dress I have worn to ALL weddings. It has been 4 years. 1.5 years back I had to attend KC’s friend’s engagement. I bought a sober dress to wear there. After that, I wore it at the office Diwali celebrations. Taking all this into consideration, I decided not to buy anything new for the friend’s wedding. But I did not feel like wearing the same clothes. I decided to wear western outfits. The only people I knew at the wedding were the friend, D, KC and maybe 1-2 batchmates from B school. I didn’t care what they thought.
Coming back… the engagement was at Pitampura which is in extreme North Delhi. I have been there a few times and regretted it. On Friday evening/night, I reached Pitampura at 9 pm. The time on the card was 8 pm. I was late… or so I thought. The friend- lets call him A, was waiting for the to-be bride… food had not been served… 50% of the people had not arrived. WTF!!! At 10 pm, the bride-to be arrived and by 10.30 pm they were engaged. We reached for the dinner and left by 11 pm. There was a DJ and I assume the party actually started at 11.30 pm and went on till wee hours.
The wedding was on Sunday night in some godforsaken farmhouse in Chattarpur… there were no street lights and the road was bumpy. I told KC if we have come to the wrong address, we will head back home and go to sleep. We arrived at 9.30 pm and I thought we are late. Guess, who meets us at the gate? The groom… in the car… with the baraat around him. He had not yet entered the venue. Finally, after all the dancing and insane noise he entered the venue at 10.30 pm. By then, KC and I had eaten dinner and were planning to leave. At 11 pm, we left just as the bride was arriving. The wedding probably started by midnight.
In all my life, below are the different kind of weddings I have attended:

  • Family friends: Since I was in the boarding, I did not know most of my parents’ friends. So, these weddings were a pain. My sis and I would plead with our parents to let us stay home but 9 out of 10 times we had to attend. Who was going to cook dinner for us? It was a quick outing… enter, meet the couple, smile, get pics clicked, rush for dinner, eat, leave. Done- by 9-10 pm max. By 11 pm even the couple would have left for home. Btw, this is in Gujarat… so, no liquor
  • Family- Sister: Sis’s wedding was different… weddings at home are different… the time and day does not matter. It is an entire week of celebrations. We had a sangeet along with mehendi, janoi (my brother’s), garba night, engagement (along with DJ night), wedding and reception. People turned up for whatever functions they wanted to. Relatives and close friends attended the sangeet… everyone attended garba and janoi… engagement and wedding were at Indore so it was just close relatives.
  • Relatives: I do not remember the actual wedding because I was not there… I was probably gossiping with cousins or playing badminton (no kidding… we did that… played badminton at the other end of the ground), playing with cousins or out frolicking with my cousin brothers. Time did not matter. It was an entire week of celebrations for family and there was the reception for outsiders.
  • Close friends: Umm… except one, all the other friends are single. I chose not to attend the wedding since I am not into it. If I had a choice, I would not have turned up for my own wedding… actually, if we had a choice KC and I would have had a live in relationship all our life.
Punjabi (or is in Delhi) weddings are notorious for starting late… the invitation says 8 pm but the wedding starts at 11 pm. Thats how it is- I was told. Different… very different from Gujarat weddings.
Few months back my sis was in town and I had taken her shopping. We came across gaudy bling in most of the shops and my sis wondered what happened to the fashion conscious Delhi people. I guess, at a wedding it all goes out of window. Being a Sindhi, I am no stranger to bling… but the bling of this level was beyond my imagination. There was a lady dressed in a blingy saree, with a bling blouse, gaudy jewellery, bling on her eyes and the blingy footwear. For a moment I thought she is the bride to be (I have met her only once and was blinded momentarily by the bling) until I spotted the chudas and realized she is a newly wed.
I am glad its over and will be avoiding any future weddings. Requesting my friends not to invite me. I think RT is the only friend whose wedding I am looking forward to… the wedding will be in MP and we can go to Bandhavgarh from there.


Nostalgia

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I was reading my old blog and the frankness of the posts amazed me… I used to be so open, fun, warm… and “naive”. I miss the old me. Life does toughen us up even when we don’t want it to.

Either we become cold on the outside and the inside or we become cold inside and preserve the outer warmth… in other words, we fake it. I admire people who can let themselves “out there” ‘coz I cannot.
I am going to move in with KC… finally. We have been craving for this moment for almost 2 years and yet I have not taken out the time to savour the moment. I have not tried to feel happy. I am so scared… I don’t want to wake up and realize it is a dream. I remember how I had cried in December thinking that its going to be another long, drawn out process and one of us will have to make tough decisions. I may have to quit… look for another job. Sigh!!! Looking for another job is tiring. I want to do it only when I reach a stage where going to work makes me want to cry every morning. Thats the signal that its time to quit. Until then, I guess its not so bad.
Most of the posts on the old blog are on guys… the hurt felt when I was dumped, getting over the heartbreak, moving on, searching for love etc etc. Now I think; “It was about standing still and letting love find me”. Thats the only explanation I have.
KC is not perfect (faaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrr from it) but he is perfect for me. I love how he is so warm with me… always cuddling, hugging, just being next to me. I remember telling him I am not a touchy feely person and would not be comfy even holding hands. I always preferred to sit opposite a guy in the restaurant so I could look at him when we talk. KC taught me to sit next to him so we could be naughty. I love how I can nag him into doing things… how we fight and laugh the next moment (if it is not something extremely serious).
I love his sense of humour the most… it is as mean as mine… ok, maybe meaner. I love how he can turn my outbursts into jokes. Our favourite is the one where I was extremely frustrated with him and in the most sarcastic, womanly manner said; “Thanks for the support!!!” I have to hear the line from him whenever I don’t do little things… like maybe compliment him or get him something from the kitchen.
But the best part was the courtship period when he was all mushy and sweet talk and gentlemanly .. bringing me a rose on EVERY date. I kid you not… he did that. Anyone who has met him will not believe it… and he and I both would not dream of him getting roses now. And of course, we both have the same level of perversion. That really, really helps.
Someone tweeted the other day; “As I grow older I lose my looks but gain a personality”.
Ok… here is something hilarious I came across. My sis had make a mock matrimonial profile for me long, long, long back: (Bogi, Mogi and Chari are Sindhi mild abuses between me and my sis)

 

Name: XYZ

 

Date of Birth: 11th June, 1973

 

Sex: Female

 

Height: 5”

 

Weight: 90 Kgs

 

Education:

 

Up to Std X:

Bogis

High School,

Mt.

Abu

 

BE (2005): Bachelor of Idiotical Engineering, Ahmedabad

 

MBA: Sadal College, Karnataka (First in University)

 

Background: XYZ is bogi, mogi, and chari. She has grown up in a tightly-knit nuclear family of five that respects cultural and religious values. She is very religious, and performs pooja ten times a day, five of which are in a Hindu temple. She enjoys singing, dancing, painting, acting, modeling, carpentry, reading, robotics, and astronomy. She may not necessarily be good in these, though. She is full of dignity, truth, and honesty.

 

 

 

SIBLING DETAILS

 

Sister’s Name: ABCABA ABC (MBA, married and settled in

New York)

 

Background: ABC is the epitome of intelligence and beauty, and is God’s gift to mankind. She complements XYZ bogi in every way. ABC has truly contributed to Kalyug’s human race with the goodness of her kind heart. She has greatly uplifted the standard of living of

India’s poverty-stricken masses.

 

 

 

What we are looking for: We are seeking a boy with potential for being hen-pecked. We want someone who will dance to her tunes and put each paisa of his salary in her hand. Looks and good body extremely important (sinewy muscles a must), brains optional.

With that… it is good bye, finally.