This is my entry to the contest being run around Yashodhara's book - describing a 'funny' event from my married life 'preferably when just married'.
And since Yashodhara is such a good friend (and because I want to eat Mamagoto), I will write three (three? THREE!) incidents.
Okay, two of them are not pertaining to my post-married life but what the hell?
* * * * *
The first incident happened after my wife and I had met (thanks, in no small measure, to our parents' initiative) and both families had agreed to spend the rest of their lives together while we decided that we didn't want to keep them apart.
I was in Bangalore while she was in Delhi. We used to maintain this long-distance yet-to-be-relationship by the chatting on Yahoo IM.This included listing our favourite movies (0% match), our favourite restaurants (100% match) and the occasional bickering (by her) on whether we have made the right choices. Unknown to her, I used to chat with a college friend on a parallel window. Unknown to me, she used to chat with my father on a parallel window. (Yes, I know. Damn.)
One November evening, she asked "A hypothetical question: What if I say no now?" (Pertinent Fact: The wedding was scheduled in January.)
I pondered on this. I brought in all the available information, processed it with impeccable logic and typed my answer. "Look, if you have to say no, you might as well say it right now. We are putting in a deposit with the caterer on Friday. And that's non-refundable."
*deathly silence* *end of chat*
Unknown to me, she had posed the same question to my father who had ended the chat immediately. And called me up next morning at 6:15 AM.
"What have you told Tina?"
"Me? Huh? What?"
"Why does she want to break off the wedding?"
"Wha..."
"I want you to call her and apologise right now. I will say sorry to her mother."
"But I haven't..."
"Right now. Before she leaves for office."
Sigh.
* * * * *
A very good friend was working in Madhya Pradesh when his wedding got fixed. He came to Calcutta for the wedding and went back to Bhopal with his wife. Since it was an arranged marriage, they were both a little diffident with each other.
Less than a week after they got back to Bhopal, there was a wedding he was invited to. His wife was also cordially invited. The two of them got on to his scooter and reached the wedding venue. As soon as they entered (and as is the norm in small-town India), the new couple was effusively greeted and the ladies took away his friend's wife to the 'ladies' area'.
My friend went and hung around with the guys, chatted a bit, congratulated the groom and then walked over to have dinner. After dinner, he said his goodbyes and went off. As he was starting his scooter, he had this niggling feeling that there was something missing - specifically from the back seat! He rushed back, found his poor bride sitting coyly in the ladies' area getting thoroughly bored and making a huge effort not to show it.
He casually asked her to come over for dinner, picked up a plate once again, ignored the strange glances of the catering staff and saved his marriage.
* * * * *
After Bangalore (where we also started our married life, quite like Yash & Vijay), I took up a job in Hyderabad.
We found ourselves a nice flat in a small but beautiful complex - which had only one flaw. The calling bell of the flat had a horrendous music ("Tong ling ting tong ding dong hong kong mombasa mogadishu") which was followed by a request in upcountry Telugu accent ("Aw-pain thaa dawr pliss..."). Our friends spent large parts of their time at our flat, outside the flat trying out the bell and ROFLOLing. We were quite convinced this bell was one-of-a-kind, designed to test our sanity.
I went on tour to Chennai and stayed in a nice studio apartment. When the room service rang the bell, I was horrified beyond belief to find that the hotel bell was EXACTLY the same as our flat bell. This gave me an idea.
I called my wife. "Where are you?"
"I am at Lily's. Why?"
"I am home. Waiting outside the flat."
"What rubbish? You were supposed to return tomorrow."
"No yaar. I was supposed to return today."
"You are lying."
"Offoh... here, listen to the bell."
Before the whole cacophony died down and the Telugu aunty could complete her door-opening spiel, my poor wife had left her friend's place and scrambled back home. As I rolled on the hotel floor, clutching my stomach and wiping tears.
I cannot tell you of my wife's reaction since this is supposed to be a funny story.
But an interesting observation: Every woman who has heard this story has lamented my wife's ill luck. Every man has complimented me on my sense of humour. I have a feeling Yash and Vijay will not behave differently.
And since Yashodhara is such a good friend (and because I want to eat Mamagoto), I will write three (three? THREE!) incidents.
Okay, two of them are not pertaining to my post-married life but what the hell?
* * * * *
The first incident happened after my wife and I had met (thanks, in no small measure, to our parents' initiative) and both families had agreed to spend the rest of their lives together while we decided that we didn't want to keep them apart.
I was in Bangalore while she was in Delhi. We used to maintain this long-distance yet-to-be-relationship by the chatting on Yahoo IM.This included listing our favourite movies (0% match), our favourite restaurants (100% match) and the occasional bickering (by her) on whether we have made the right choices. Unknown to her, I used to chat with a college friend on a parallel window. Unknown to me, she used to chat with my father on a parallel window. (Yes, I know. Damn.)
One November evening, she asked "A hypothetical question: What if I say no now?" (Pertinent Fact: The wedding was scheduled in January.)
I pondered on this. I brought in all the available information, processed it with impeccable logic and typed my answer. "Look, if you have to say no, you might as well say it right now. We are putting in a deposit with the caterer on Friday. And that's non-refundable."
*deathly silence* *end of chat*
Unknown to me, she had posed the same question to my father who had ended the chat immediately. And called me up next morning at 6:15 AM.
"What have you told Tina?"
"Me? Huh? What?"
"Why does she want to break off the wedding?"
"Wha..."
"I want you to call her and apologise right now. I will say sorry to her mother."
"But I haven't..."
"Right now. Before she leaves for office."
Sigh.
* * * * *
A very good friend was working in Madhya Pradesh when his wedding got fixed. He came to Calcutta for the wedding and went back to Bhopal with his wife. Since it was an arranged marriage, they were both a little diffident with each other.
Less than a week after they got back to Bhopal, there was a wedding he was invited to. His wife was also cordially invited. The two of them got on to his scooter and reached the wedding venue. As soon as they entered (and as is the norm in small-town India), the new couple was effusively greeted and the ladies took away his friend's wife to the 'ladies' area'.
My friend went and hung around with the guys, chatted a bit, congratulated the groom and then walked over to have dinner. After dinner, he said his goodbyes and went off. As he was starting his scooter, he had this niggling feeling that there was something missing - specifically from the back seat! He rushed back, found his poor bride sitting coyly in the ladies' area getting thoroughly bored and making a huge effort not to show it.
He casually asked her to come over for dinner, picked up a plate once again, ignored the strange glances of the catering staff and saved his marriage.
* * * * *
After Bangalore (where we also started our married life, quite like Yash & Vijay), I took up a job in Hyderabad.
We found ourselves a nice flat in a small but beautiful complex - which had only one flaw. The calling bell of the flat had a horrendous music ("Tong ling ting tong ding dong hong kong mombasa mogadishu") which was followed by a request in upcountry Telugu accent ("Aw-pain thaa dawr pliss..."). Our friends spent large parts of their time at our flat, outside the flat trying out the bell and ROFLOLing. We were quite convinced this bell was one-of-a-kind, designed to test our sanity.
I went on tour to Chennai and stayed in a nice studio apartment. When the room service rang the bell, I was horrified beyond belief to find that the hotel bell was EXACTLY the same as our flat bell. This gave me an idea.
I called my wife. "Where are you?"
"I am at Lily's. Why?"
"I am home. Waiting outside the flat."
"What rubbish? You were supposed to return tomorrow."
"No yaar. I was supposed to return today."
"You are lying."
"Offoh... here, listen to the bell."
Before the whole cacophony died down and the Telugu aunty could complete her door-opening spiel, my poor wife had left her friend's place and scrambled back home. As I rolled on the hotel floor, clutching my stomach and wiping tears.
I cannot tell you of my wife's reaction since this is supposed to be a funny story.
But an interesting observation: Every woman who has heard this story has lamented my wife's ill luck. Every man has complimented me on my sense of humour. I have a feeling Yash and Vijay will not behave differently.
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