Tuesday, 5 March 2013

The Story Of 3 Knots - Part 1

The knots here don't refer to the speed metric but more precisely the 3 knots of my wedding. Even though its been more than a year since it happened, its better late than never to pen the memories before I say hello to Alzheimer's.

I landed in India exactly a week before the wedding while my then future wifu was already at home looking after the arrangements. As expected, she was there at the airport and though still jet lagged, we drove directly to Mysore for Bujji's engagement. It all looked like a teaser before the main thing a week later.

The bachelor party was quite different. Different because amidst all the booze and nutritious greens, none of us were high. I would like to blame it on spending the night in front of a 10 foot high bonfire.

The day before the reception was the day when I witnessed a miracle at home. About 50 women gathered delivering cliched dialogues and the roof didn't come down. Must say, the Harishina(turmeric) day is one day that many women look forward to most after their wedding days. I'd never seen such excitement and glow in some of their faces all my life. Seriously, even a rave party wouldn't see such natural highs. And all of this just to paint a poor old groom bright yellow. Sometimes to such an extent that even the melanin inside the skin would be shitting in its pants.

I've always hated the concept of  elderly people touching your feet. I made that quite clear before the ceremony that I wouldn't want anyone to touch my feet while smearing turmeric. While some were considerate, some smothered me in turmeric and  some menopausal aunties still managed to cop a feel of my feet. Ugggghhh.

After making a lot of women happy by sacrificing myself, it took a good couple of hours to get rid of the first coat of yellow. Quite a few women folk kept insisting that the yellow on my face should be prominent till the wedding day and I was very close to turning into Ravi Teja from Vikramarkudu.

Suspecting this outcome of the ceremony, I had booked an appointment in the parlour on the same evening. From a hair cut , it turned into a long process of regaining my original colour back and finally the yellow was out of my system.

The next day was a big day and I travelled to my favourite city, Mysore for the reception. Upon entering the choultry, everyone in my family were overwhelmed with the welcome party and I stood there with a turban on my head, garland around my neck and one coconut heading right at me........to be continued

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