Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Like any other normal human being, I always had a dream and believed it would come real which is to be famous. Not that the dream has died but it’s the belief part which fading real fast. And when I realized nothing else was likely to make my dream come true, I thought of trying my hands at writing. This is when I thought of coming up with a book. But it had to have a topic – the book I mean.
One of my friends, impressed by my writing skills, suggested an idea – matrimonial searches. Incidently I was just out of this process of soul-mate searching and he was deeply engrossed into it. Someone has said – your perception of the world is decided by your circumstances. That someone is me. Anyhow, we both believed that entire world is aware of/bitten by this matrimonial searches bug and would go crazy to read stuff about it. We decided to collect our experiences in form of a book.
But as usual, this entire idea flopped. He moved onto the land of hope and I was always hopeless. We had scribbled a few pages which cannot be called a book. Anyhow, today it struck to my mind that those pages must not die virgin. They must see sun light. So I will be posting those stories one by one here.
A brief background of the story –
Mr. Swapnil Sharma is a CA – MBA working in some MNC which has posted him in USA. He is an ideal boy in his family’s eyes who is untouched of any vice like smoking, drinking, non vegetarianism etc. His family has started to look for a bride for him. They have fixed up a meeting with the brother, who is also in USA, of one of the prospective matches.
Here is how the story unfolds.
I reached the pre-decided place to meet him. “Mr. Brother”. I was around half an hour late. Hence, I called him up and apologized for being late just to find out that he was also in the parking lot next to me. He had come with a friend and we had decided that I would drop him back to his friend’s place which was near by.
“Mr. Brother” was not a man. He was a sky scrapper with such a big tummy that I could sleep inside that. I always wonder when and how do people grow so big? What the hell I was doing when they were growing.
He came towards me, greeted me warmly, put his arm around me and said “Come, let’s go.” With my five foot eight inches height and a lean figure, it was looking as if I had misbehaved in a bar and the bouncer was politely kicking me out of it.
We went to the restaurant and ordered some vegetarian dishes. Hesitantly I asked if he is a non vegetarian. He was more than happy to reply positively and we contributed in reducing
He started telling me about his family and sister and all I could get was that it’s a “Size does matter” family. As per him, his sister was 5’8” but, we would make an excellent couple. May be they believed in literal sense of gender equality.
Anyways, we hit off really well and he was a good company. I reminded him to send me the Bio-data and some snaps of his sister and he casually said, “First thing when I reach home.”
“Do you booze?” he asked before leaving and said “I am sure you do” even before finishing the first sentence. You cannot say no to beer on a Saturday evening. No one can. He took me to a good pub and we had beer.
My guess was right. Beer was the secret of him looking like a mutton shop. The amount he had, I have not had in an entire month. And after he had his share, he was like a barrel full of beer himself. He could barely stand. Then I realized why he had come with a friend. He didn’t like mixing drinking and driving.
Finally I paid the bill, got him inside my car with some external help and dropped him to his destination.
“Do you drink?” was what my mom asked even before saying “Hello”.
“No”, as always I replied.
In some of families in our country, drinking is a taboo. You drink means you are a rowdy, wife beater and shame on the society. You should be ostracized. And if it’s your only and soon to be married son, better watch out because it’s a crime worth getting punishment in the court of relatives. Although, the punishment would just be defaming that hardly holds a value for you. But for parents, the amazing Glenn Fiddich is not a stress buster but a dark patch on the upbringing they have given to you. I drink just for enjoyment and have been doing it for year without my fellows knowing it. They don’t know means I don’t drink. They are happy. They don’t know means I can drink. I am happy. It’s a win-win situation. This kind of interrogation about my drinking have been raised a couple of times and I have simply lied for the happiness of both the parties.
But why is it today? And that too the first thing in the morning.
“No Maa, I don’t. Please let me sleep now. Its just 6 AM. I will call you in some time.”
“No you do. You have always been betraying us.” Sounds of crying. How come all the females cry on the drop of a needle? From where do they get so much of stamina?
“What have you done? Now we cannot even show our face to anyone.”
“But what happened?” I asked. Why suddenly this? How has she got this idea? Who told her? Who the #@$@#$ told her?
“You met him yesterday, right? His father called us up today.”
“He said that your son drinks”
“And is a non vegetarian. Your son might be having good credentials but he cannot get his daughter married to such a spoilt guy. You have let us down Suppu. Why?” and it went on for next half an hour. BTW, Suppu is my nickname.
“Shit. “Mr. Brother”. Sala…no, not sala for sure. He had called up their parents and told them that I drink, smoke and eat non veg. That is why the the tsunami is getting imported to US from India. “Mr. Brother” @#$%$%#$%. Did he tell them about himself? He looked like a cannibal who ate every bit as if it was the last on earth, drank as if he was on a mission to finish off alcohol on this planet. On top of that, I paid the bill. After all that, I was rejected even before I had filled up my application form. Damn.
Man, the game looks much trickier than I had thought. Anyways, the first match was abandoned before the first ball was bowled and I was fined heavily by the referee.