Whose wedding is it anyway?

There is one secret technique that 20-somethings all over the world use when parents pressure them about marriage.

"Pehle meri padhai toh khatam hone do!" ("Let me finish my studies first!")

What these unsuspecting 20-somethings don't know is that their parents are smarter than them (In the words of Amitabh Bachchan “Oye chak de phatte, main tera baap hoon!”). They pretend to buy that excuse just to make you feel smarter, but what you don't know is that they are really taking it literally. So the moment you finish that Master's/MBA/random-course-you-take-up-to-escape-marriage, they'll pin you down on your own words.

Sayesha is no exception.

My friends always said I would make an unconventional bride. And it seems they were right.

I got in touch with a school friend after years. She lives in the same city as my parents.

Friend - So what's the latest in your life?

Me - Oh, I finished my exams! My dissertation's just got first approval.

She - Achha? And...?

Me - Oh I just got a promotion. And hey I am going to Pakistan!

She - Bas? Anything else?

Me - Errr... let me think... hmmm...

She - *string of gaalis* I just spoke to your mom! How could you not tell me THE NEWS first? *longer string of gaalis*

Me – Um... yeah, am kinda getting married.

She - Kinda? Sheesh, tu nahin badli! So are you excited? What does the guy do? How does he look? What are you going to wear at the wedding - sari or lehenga? What style wedding is it going to be? How many days of ceremonies?

Whoa! Slow down. Don't ask questions. I don't have answers. Yet.

After I got back from Pakistan and attempted to put my work life back in order, I told my colleagues about the news.

Colleague - Wow, congratulations! So when's the wedding?

Me - Oh it's a long way off.

Colleague - When is it???

Me - It's next year.

Colleague - Oh ok. Phew. Then you have time to plan. Next year when?

Me - January.

Colleague - January?? January 2007???

Me - Err.. yeah.

Colleague - And you call that a long way off????

Me - Err.. yeah.

Colleague - That's only like one month away! Don't you need like a year to plan??

Me - Ummm... not really.

It seems that if you pick the guy, the parents pick everything else. So I am pretty chilled out, while they're going nuts in India doing the planning.

Once in a while they call me to ask funny questions.

Mom - Should we buy the gold? Or do you want to buy your own?

Me - Gold? Do I really have to wear gold?

Now I am the kind of person who hates gold with a vengeance. I'd rather wear the fake earrings worth twelve rupees that I bought on the streets of Delhi two years ago than 35 kg of gold wedding jewellery, which incidentally is competing with the wedding sari to see which one's heavier.

But it seems a bride wearing fake jewellery worth twelve rupees is not really an option, as my Mom's glare pointed out. When you can feel a glare over the telephone, you know she's on the verge of getting really pissed off.

Me - Ok ok I will buy my own!

Mom - No no, don't buy! You don't know the first thing about gold! Just look around and report to me.

So one early morning I went to the Tanishq gold section at Mustafa to 'look around'. I'd say it was quite a productive trip.

That evening, my sister called me.

She - So Mom said you went to Mustafa.

Me - Yeah, I did.

She - Did you buy anything?

Me - Yeah, I did.

She - You did??? What did you buy???

Me - Err... ipod nano.

She - *heavy silence*

Me - Hello?

She - You bought an ipod nano when you went gold-shopping?

Me - Err.. yeah. I didn't like anything else I saw.

My sister burst into laughter. In the background, I think Aish was chuckling too.

She - I should have guessed you'd do something like that! I am trying to imagine you sitting at the mandap in your wedding sari wearing an ipod nano instead of gold jewellery. *bursts into laughter again*

Phew. Thank heavens some family members still have a sense of humour, while others only send menacing glares over the phone.

"So are you excited?" Everyone's asking me. The truth is - I'm not. Not yet. I guess I'm still trying to wrap up a lot of things - my job, my studies, my bank balance - and haven't had time to feel all...errr... bride-y. Perhaps I've too many other things to take care of first. Perhaps mentally I am still in Pakistan. The truth is - I haven't even been thinking about it. Friends are getting pissed off because they're hearing the news "too late".

However, everyone in my family has been making up for my not thinking about it. For quite some time as I recently found out.

Some time in November, I'd called up my sister after my first exam.

Me - Hey I finished the first exam. It went well. The next one's in a few days. Wish me luck.

Sister - So which side are you going to part your hair?

Me - Huh?? Part my hair? For the exam???

Sister - Not the exam. Offo! The wedding!

Me - The wedding? Sheesh, can we please focus on my exam first?

Sister - Hmmm... okay okay. But grow your hair ok? Don't cut it till the wedding.

Hmmm... the problem with my hair is that it is exactly like me - wild, has a mind of its own and refuses to grow up. The longer I grow it, the curlier it gets, so any increase in length is lost in the curls.

Me - Sigh. I will try.

And everyone's thinking of what to wear. Everyone except me.

The other day, my sister called again.

She - Hey, listen, I want you to buy something for Aish in Singapore.

Me - Yeah sure. What do you want?

She - I want some accessories. To match what she's gonna wear at the wedding and the reception.

Me - You want accessories for Aish?

She - Yeah.

Me – Accessories for Aish??

She – Haan baba!

Me - Apa, baby Aish is 6 months old!!!!!

She - Yeah. I know. That's why I can't find anything suitable here. Apparently, there's a kind of hairband, made of the same material that stockings are made of, the kind that won't hurt her scalp. And there's velcro clips for the hair. I can't find them in New Jersey. So you gotta look for them in Singapore. Light pink, pale yellow and white. Okay?

So here I am, clueless about my own accessories but faced with this rather strange task of buying baby hairbands and clips. If anyone knows of a place that sells velcro clips and nylon hairbands for a 6-month-old baby, please contact me immediately.

Now that my exams are over, I've started on my exercise regime again. Many people think that it's for the wedding. Sheesh. Gotta open the sarcasm bottle.

Friend - Shaping up for your wedding, huh?

Me - Yeah, gotta fit into my wedding dress, you see.

*Friend gives me a strange look*

Friend - Errrm... Sayesha, your wedding dress is a sari.

Me - Yeah, I know.

Friend - Errr... You don't ‘fit into a sari’. A sari wraps around you.

Me - Yeah. But in my head, it's already wrapped, you see. I just need to fill up the hollow within it.

Friend - ??

People are asking me for the cards. I don't have them yet. Apparently, the cards went to the printer last week, and they should reach me soon. No one asked for my approval on the design. This would never happen at work - none of my editors would dare to send something to the printer without getting my signature of approval on it. Hmmph!

Dad asked me not to worry as he would take care of the card. He doesn't know that that itself is the cause of my worry. There has never been any common factor in my parents' taste and mine. I just hope that unlike my blog posts, the card has no typos. (Occupational hazard, yes.)

Right now, I see the wedding as an event that kinda requires my attendance. An event where two thousand grinning people I have never met in my life will surround me and ask “Recognise me?” while I disguise my ignorance about the answer to their question with choreographed ‘bridal blushing’.

From what I have seen so far, a wedding is an event designed around the bride, and nothing but the bride. The guy is the optional feature in a wedding. No one really cares about his whereabouts after the customary "Dulha aa gaya, dulha aa gaya!" I mean - look at this post. It's 35 kilometres long and yet, there is no mention of the dulha in it. Poor guy.

So I'm supposed to gear up for the most important event of my life. I'm supposed to be excited, nervous and what not. But the truth is - no, I’m not nervous. I’m not excited. But it doesn't worry me.

Maybe it will all happen in time. After all, the transition from underworld bhai to blushing bride is not an easy one.

Or maybe it won't. Maybe I'm just not that kinda bride.

Now if you please excuse me, I’ve got to go now. It's time for me to add fertilizer to my scalp.