Love and marriage
May. 25th, 2003 05:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenThe day has been one of wedding-discussion. As I've mentioned before, my mother's younger sister is getting married at the beginning of July, and they've been trying to get her married for the last sixteen years, so this is an Event.
Mashi's fiancé is from Ahmedabad, so that's where they're holding the reception, and my parents were discussing this in detail earlier. I never knew Ahmedabad was so far from Delhi, but apparently they'll have to fly there, as the train takes two days and two nights. Anyway, the family (that is, the fiancé's family) are all very nice and down-to-earth, and my mother thinks "it'll be good for Rumpa." It is true she can be a spoiled brat. Hell, she is a spoiled brat. Hopefully this'll help change things, but it won't stop her from being the most demanding bride in the history of the family.
Mashi's father, my grandfather, is very happy because he'd been trying to get her married for so long. Apparently (this is according to my mother), he's particularly happy because "they seem to like each other very much." I really love him, especially when he says things like that. Even in the middle of all this chaos, he somehow found the time to send me a good luck email for my exams. Having learnt how to use the internet at the age of seventy, he now regularly emails everyone he can think of, and just... aww.
In the meantime, my mother is stressed about what on earth she's going to wear for the wedding. I asked her why it mattered so much, and from the ensuing explanation, I gathered that Hemang (the fiancé) and his family are Very Important People. They're Brahmins, which caused Pedar's ears to prick up, as so is he (and so am I, frighteningly enough). Now, I thought "Hemang" was a funny name. His last name is Gargekhan, and for some reason, my mother thinks this is the funniest thing ever. I only have to say "Gargekhan" and she giggles, and she's already composing mental emails addressed to "the future Mrs. Gargekhan."
But yes, they're an important, very well-off family, and I am apparently going to miss the wedding of the year. Because that's the other thing - I'm not going. I'm going to America, and missing all the hungama. Chintu says he's going to kidnap me if he doesn't go to the wedding. I asked him why on earth he's not going to his own sister's wedding, but he does have reasons. He may well still be in the States when I go over there.
The worrying thing is, of course, is that this will be the last wedding of the generation. Next thing I know, it'll be my own cousins getting married. My mother was just saying, "You're not going to this wedding, but you'll have to go to Misty's wedding."
"I will," I said. "How old do you think she'll be when she gets married?"
"About twenty-five, maybe," my mother said, dreamily.
"Good," I said. And so it rests. By the time Misty's twenty-five, I'll be twenty-three. I think this shows the mind of a determined matchmaker at work. She even looked at me meaningfully, but oddly enough my mother is a sane, rational being when it comes to me and marriage. "Yours will be a love marriage," she said. "Maybe even to a white boy."
Why, thank you, mother.
She said that seriously, but reasonably, which actually gives me hope for the future. Not that this is a subject I spend a lot of time thinking about. But, yeah.
Mashi's fiancé is from Ahmedabad, so that's where they're holding the reception, and my parents were discussing this in detail earlier. I never knew Ahmedabad was so far from Delhi, but apparently they'll have to fly there, as the train takes two days and two nights. Anyway, the family (that is, the fiancé's family) are all very nice and down-to-earth, and my mother thinks "it'll be good for Rumpa." It is true she can be a spoiled brat. Hell, she is a spoiled brat. Hopefully this'll help change things, but it won't stop her from being the most demanding bride in the history of the family.
Mashi's father, my grandfather, is very happy because he'd been trying to get her married for so long. Apparently (this is according to my mother), he's particularly happy because "they seem to like each other very much." I really love him, especially when he says things like that. Even in the middle of all this chaos, he somehow found the time to send me a good luck email for my exams. Having learnt how to use the internet at the age of seventy, he now regularly emails everyone he can think of, and just... aww.
In the meantime, my mother is stressed about what on earth she's going to wear for the wedding. I asked her why it mattered so much, and from the ensuing explanation, I gathered that Hemang (the fiancé) and his family are Very Important People. They're Brahmins, which caused Pedar's ears to prick up, as so is he (and so am I, frighteningly enough). Now, I thought "Hemang" was a funny name. His last name is Gargekhan, and for some reason, my mother thinks this is the funniest thing ever. I only have to say "Gargekhan" and she giggles, and she's already composing mental emails addressed to "the future Mrs. Gargekhan."
But yes, they're an important, very well-off family, and I am apparently going to miss the wedding of the year. Because that's the other thing - I'm not going. I'm going to America, and missing all the hungama. Chintu says he's going to kidnap me if he doesn't go to the wedding. I asked him why on earth he's not going to his own sister's wedding, but he does have reasons. He may well still be in the States when I go over there.
The worrying thing is, of course, is that this will be the last wedding of the generation. Next thing I know, it'll be my own cousins getting married. My mother was just saying, "You're not going to this wedding, but you'll have to go to Misty's wedding."
"I will," I said. "How old do you think she'll be when she gets married?"
"About twenty-five, maybe," my mother said, dreamily.
"Good," I said. And so it rests. By the time Misty's twenty-five, I'll be twenty-three. I think this shows the mind of a determined matchmaker at work. She even looked at me meaningfully, but oddly enough my mother is a sane, rational being when it comes to me and marriage. "Yours will be a love marriage," she said. "Maybe even to a white boy."
Why, thank you, mother.
She said that seriously, but reasonably, which actually gives me hope for the future. Not that this is a subject I spend a lot of time thinking about. But, yeah.
