Thursday, August 24, 2006

Bride & Prejudice

Ok, ok, I've had it with people offering me fake money and others chasing me down the department corridor begging for a new post.
So, while I was being "stalked" at the club by Utey's boyfriend [entirely her claim, mind, entirely hers. Me, if I could notice an eligible bachelor when I saw one .. well, I don't know what I would've done, really], who should chance to drop by, but my alleged future husband. This particular personage's hand had been offered to me in marriage a few months ago, but having drowned myself already in the love of an individual at last count being hunted down by hot mexican women and hunting down hotter spanish waitresses, I had politely declined. At this point, it would be pertinent, I suppose, to bring to your notice, that my sentences are interminably long.
Moving on, said personage is a former national-level tennis player, very shy, very sweet and very hirsute. I don't yet know whether he was aware that higher powers had contemplated tying my pallu to his dhoti [isn't that how you get married?] at a blessed time in the future. He is known to my mashi, my mother's aunt, an intrepid matchmaker if there ever was one. So there he was, hovering about the shamiana, sweating profusely. And then [this is going to be in bangla. Dee, go away, I'm not translating :-p ] :-

Alleged Future Husband : Hello, Aunty, how are you?
Mashi: O ma! _________ jey! Hello hello!! [she uses his full name, even though she obviously knows him well, just so I can understand this is the famous AFH]
*wink 1 to me*
AFH and Mashi engage in some small talk. AFH also addresses my brat of a young cousin, showing what looked like very genuine interest in her sporting progress. He even offers to teach her to improve her backhand.
My mother gazes, amazed.
My mother (notice how she dominates most of my posts): Aei, are you married?
AFH is decidedly befuddled. Smiles shyly.
Mashi: Koi, na to! His mother has been searching for a suitable bride for so long! *wink 2 to mother. wink 3 to me*
My mother (eyes lit up, ready with bait): MEET MY DAUGHTER, NAME ROHINI, AGE 23!!
Mashi: *wink 4 to anyone who will care to look*
AFH (in a state of shock): Oh, achha! I mean ...
Me (meaning to be angry, but breaking into chuckles at AFH's facial expression. He really is cute): Hullo. Don't mind my mother, she's doing her Pujo shopping.
Mashi: *wink 5 to me*
AFH (whimpering, like he's in an alternate reality soaked in evil): Oh. Achha.
Mother (a trifle impatient): You have a girlfriend, at least?
AFH (these are words he has finally understood): Eh heh heh .. ki jey bolen, aunty!
Mashi: Aare, girlfriends?! I have seen women falling over him at the tennis club! But our _______, does he care?! No no! Very good boy, our _____. [the exercise of proprietory rights over eligible AFH has begun].
AFH (blushing) : I think I have to leave now.
Mother: Where do you have to go? No no, no going, you sit and chat with us!
AFH: No, aunty, I'm very sorry, but I'm here to organise a golfing event my company is sponsoring. I'll come another time, ok?
Mother: Oho! You're working! *dazzling smile* Good pay?
Mashi: Everyday he buys a new car!
[Have I mentioned she's been winking incontrollably all this while?]
AFH (realising he's fighting a losing battle, smiles in defeat): Aunty, please! Ebar thhamun apni!

Anyway, this is just the gist. In the meantime, my mother has obtained from him the name of his company, his designation, the number of clubs he is a member of, the number of matches he has played, and undoubtedly, when I wasn't looking, the number of his bank account.
Uhm, incidentally, the way I've falsely dramatised the conversation, it would appear he was desperate to leave. Truth be told, he wasn't, he seemed pleased in fact, when I told him how my friends had been a huge fan (used the word "heartthrob" for the first time in my life. It was fun to see him wince) of his when we were pimply teenagers in school. I've never seen a person, male or female, blush so deeply and so frequently in such a short span of time. Then again, he was being extremely polite, beaming benevolently at one and all, and not showing any sort of interest in me. Aah well.
The important thing is, and now I have to leave to do my bratty cousin's homework for her, the important thing is, the moment he left, my mother demanded of my aunt why this masterpiece of God had not been made available to me. When she pleaded innocent and said he had been rudely dismissed as a marital prospective, my mother raised such a hue and cry that, June Maliah, who was sitting at the next table with a bunch of kids, turned around and looked at her questioningly. Decisions were made to get in touch with the boy's parents that very evening, based solely on the fact that they were very rich. And no, this was getting to be serious, because my tech-illiterate aunt was actually fiddling with her cellphone to retrieve AFH's home number.
It was no good explaining that I was not interested in marriage (uhm, don't let this discourage you. You may continue your search for a suitable boy for me, or even present your own glorious self), there was absolutely no way she was listening to the fact that I was still in love with ... uhm ... who I was in love with.
So ... and I'm really late now - I need to present, in december, an IIT graduated green card holder, obviously doing something in the software sector, earning hundreds of thousands of dollars, and tall. Because, I have declared undying, and ardently reciprocated, love for said fictitious individual - a man of sparkling wit, and doubtless reliability. Believe it or not, my mother and my mashi are so pleased with my valuable, if inordinately lucky, find, that I have actually been offered money to get a boob job done, before aforementioned non-existent individual makes his false presence felt in Kolkata. In December. I have time till then to be free of further harassments and threats on the pre-marital front.
Hmm. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they will forget all about this with time.

[Anyway, since we're at it. Any takers?]
*wink wink*


Rimi said...

My good lord. Oh my dear sweet lord!

By the way, while you're at it, can you get me a man, also sparkling wit but in Bombay and ad-exec, cute but not devastatingly good looking? (that last criterion should be no trouble...) I need presence of said man to fend off a few very REAL men. Pretty please.

In the meanwhile, arrange for a end-September post-pujo weepy break-up. Say he's discovered he's gay. Or, um, evil scheming white woman got him. Believable, both.

Rimi said...

My good lord. Oh my dear sweet lord!

By the way, while you're at it, can you get me a man, also sparkling wit but in Bombay and ad-exec, cute but not devastatingly good looking? (that last criterion should be no trouble...) I need presence of said man to fend off a few very REAL men. Pretty please.

In the meanwhile, arrange for a end-September post-pujo weepy break-up. Say he's discovered he's gay. Or, um, evil scheming white woman got him. Believable, both.

Anonymous said...

ROTFL.....ur making my stomach hurt literally(finally had a good meal comprising of naans,biryanis,chiili chicken n mutton keema)!!
velly velly good post.Quite a lot of people i know have these far away stand-bya ,I won't deny that I haven't used it once or twice myself.

P.S.:your comment had me confused for a while.Good u gave the clarification.

P.S.:n what if the sugar run sout too...?

Dreamcatcher said...

Tell Ma and Mashi he's already married hence your heart is broken and you are off men. Should work. Then again not.

Anonymous said...


I UNDERSTOOD those bangla lines :D :D :D

I think his leave could be denied for December and hopefully be sanctioned for next summer- innit?

That gives you until summer till you decide to have a fling to forget him for his prolonged absence or some such believable story :D

i dwell in possibility said...

Shiggir tor tennis-kheloyad ke biye kore fel. As Rimi says, the not-real bf may discover he's gay. Hirsute hole ki hoy, waxing achche, Veet achche. My God, e juger chele, girl-friend nei, blush kore, e to lonthon haate niye khunjleo paowa jabe na!! *winks*

rainbeau_peep said...

witty ad-exec? you can't find yourself a witty ad-exec? Shouldn't be much trouble, really. I've got one who isn't very witty, but dresses sharply and wears a diamond ear-stud. Based here, not Bombay though. Maangta hai kya?
post-pujo break up is not the idea AT AWL! I gotta stretch the romance till I'm pretty much ready to find myself a job and leave home, so I don't have relatives chasing me with eligible bachelors jhuri korey on their matha.

why, in Lord Venkateshwara's name, must I be regaled with your dietary routine? Why, especially, when I'm having uchchhey shedhyo for lunch?

Aare, na rey. That's the last tihng that'll work. I've been trying to establish for months now, that I'm off men. They don't give a damn. All they ever want is to toss a new man every other day at me. :-[

see? even though the entire conversation actually happened entirely in Bangla, I stuck to english for the most part. Am I not the most endearing angel in the history of the world? [Ok, don't answer that].
And yes, you've pretty much got the hang of the fake love sitch - that IS my idea! :-]

good morning, midnight,
Ekdom thik kotha, chheleta shotyi-i khub bhalo, bhishon shorol. Tai jonyo to biye ta kora jaabe na. Heh, eto bhalo chhele ke thhokabo? Biye korbo oke, aar bhalobashbo onyo ekjon ke?

Anonymous said...

hmmm....ucche seddho for lunch is far better than rasam!(yuck!).Also, check out lord gomteshwara if ya can.....;-)

Anonymous said...

well in that case rainy dear: thankju for sticking to mostly anglais and pliss to continue too!

scorpionragz said...

The M-word makes my head swim.
My head swam.
poor poor thing.
And, i testify, u DON'T need a boob job done. They're good enough, i think. But then get a second (male) opinion, by all means!!!!!!!