My memoirs of "The Monsoon Wedding"

Part 1: Of Invitations and planning

I got this call about 3 to 4 months back from my old Manipal roomie "The Ant" (actual nick name withheld on account of IP rights, but real close). He claimed that he was getting married on the 1st of July. On previous occasions when he had done that I had nearly fallen off my chair out of concern for the poor ..... err girl (or was I going to say chap)....maybe both. This time around I yawned and said "yeah right, that and Henry will leave the Gunners" (4 months later I have learnt to keep my smart trap shut... these things happen). The Ant, not appreciating the heavy sarcasm, was quick to roll out dates and venues... 29th Sangeet + Disco, 1st Shaadi, 2nd Reception... the list seemed to go on for ever, and I was close to throwing up. Something about the gusto and enthusiasm with which he rattled the details made me uneasy about the whole thing.

Come last week of May, and the old Long Dong Club (Origin Manipal; 1991...nothing intellectual so no IPR here) started planning the bachelor party. Old, married and frustrated people were calling for belly dancers and orgies in the name of our pals slaughter. My critical contribution to the mail trail was pointing out that we would need to do the thingy real quick since the functions were to commence on the 29th. Yes the more observant of you would have noticed it was May and not June (as did some members of the LDC), but as you all know I have been having issues with the calender people (not Pirelli...they are timeless), and those facts are recorded here. A lot of noise did the LDC make on mail and thus we displayed our core competency.

Trust me to forget all about the occasion, my mind has its mechanisms for storing such stuff in some hidden nook... that and the technique for solving quadratic equations. The Wall (currently located somewhere near DLF club, gurgaon) woke me up from my slumber. Quite literally... was grabbing my ration of 40 winks in the office. "Dude are the lap dancers all ready? do you want me to sample some of the stuff?" I politely asked him who he was (technology; you know how it is, you expect them to create a simple handshake that will allow old phone to meet new phone... old phone whistles softly and says "wow worthy successor", hands over all its data, and fades out of my life. No such luck...stubborn old phone claims its OS dont talk to new phone). I was probably the author of the senti "kya yaar bhool gaya" (translates to: forgot your old pals) story, so once done with this unnecessary but inevitable part of the conversation, we got back to the dancers. DJ (class of 94) n me had tried our best to palm of this responsibility on each other, but finally sanity prevailed and we decided to bail out of the situ entirely. Another friend had promised to send a lap dancer for testing, but that never happened and is a different story. The final plan involved a table at Hard Rock Mumbai.

Part 2: Mostly shots

The Rendezvous time at HRC was 20:30 hrs on the 28th. The Ant threw tantrums like 'suit fitting' and stuff, nothing unexpected. Lakhmi (Ancestral name) like a good boy that he is arrived at the dot of 21:00 hrs. He was the 1st and literally set a precedent for all the festivities. The rest of us deigned to turn up in the next 20 to 30 odd mins, with DP being the last. The table stood there for us. The pretty girl (at least pretty after a few drinks) was going to act pricey about it, but one look at Lakhmi and me and lo behold she was shooing some PYT's off our table. The Ant and The Wall walked in reminding us that neither had lost their customary saunter... yet (chaps maybe its time now???). DJ, Niks and Ashu followed close behind. Thats when the noise started. Put 4 peeps from Manipal in a room with drinks and a few yrs between their last meeting and you are likely to get a notice from the folks at the other end of the Milky Way requesting a few moments of silence. The HRC got clued on to this real quick (probably good business acumen given the rate at which all our surrounding tables were getting vacated) and were able to conjure up a "band" real quick. Any self respecting Manipalite knows his 2 bit about bands, hence the word in quotes in the previous sentence. This "band" had its desired effect and was able to temporarily silence us, all mystified with their choice of music. The effect however was temp and the moments of silence that the "band" indulged in were easily filled by the din emanating from out table. One tires I guess of such activity and it wasnt long before we were looking for greener pastures. So we promptly bought our Sangeet apparel and set off for Wink.

The Wall, DP and I set off in DP's Scorpio. DP was giving us advise on how a vehicle must be used for precisely 5yrs 7 mts 24 days and 42 mins (forget the seconds... blame it on alcohol deprivation) for getting optimum economic performance when the wall decided to burn DP's car. This he did by carelessly chucking his cigarette somewhere in the vast but cluttered back. A min later he changed his mind (probably not wanting to be a part of the inferno... one does these things.... like I said we were all suffering from alcohol deprivation). A frantic search did not yield anything. Was The Wall smoking a virtual fag?... smelt real enough. Having debated the futility of driving to the fire station we proceeded with our journey to Wink. Such incidents are best forgotten.

Wink just looks like one of those places where one discuss futures positions, stop loss targets and has shots. All these heady engagements done simultaneously is quite a balancing act.

Working men. Thats our excuse for spiking the drinks. But how does one spike a shot you might ask. Innovation folks...thats how. Simply explained it involves winking at the barman while getting the shot glasses and salt, lime et al.... with the glasses filled with pure H2O. All except the grooms of course who was "even better than the real thing". Many shots later (note anything more than 1 constitutes many) we tired of this. The effects were beginning to show on the Ant, but the stewards at wink having wearied of our patronage played spoil sport and shut down the bar. We took this philosophically instead of tearing the place down. While we walked out (mostly walked) we had not closed the entertainment for the eve. The streets of Mumbai still held promise, so Bade Miya it was. Drink must be accompanied by some chili folks, take this advise and live longer.... hopefully. So while the sound from the explosion that we called a gathering made its way to Appolo Bunder, happily munching on Bhuna rolls, the citys gentry took umbrage at not having been invited for the party. If looks could pass judgement and move the machinery of our judiciary system we would all probably have become inmates of the establishment at Arthur Road. But sterner stuff the people form Manipal are made of and so at DP's advise we simply looked the other way. This done we seemed to have drawn the curtain on the Ants bachelor party. Am still a little unsure on how I made it to bed.

The spirit at the Sangeet @ Blue Sea seemed to carry the tradition of the previous eve. Yep more shots, this time served by some Amazonion women(did offer them Sanjay waiting list coupons, but no patience these girls) and no, did not get to spike them. Reached quite late, what with the ECF and stuff at the Grand Maratha. The venue was awesome as always, but the beauty was lost on the Manipal troopers. The boys were looking after the girls. Daughters and wives.... mostly. One of them actually let our spiking secret slip....sheesh. Enough has been said in this paragraph me-thinks.

Part 3: Pheras and Hera Pheri

About a week before the actual event The Ant decided to call us for yet another event. The Mehandi (hope I spelt that right) was announced and all of us called. Date: Sat 29th, lunch at Tian. The Ant is a great chap, but just thinking of a ceremony like the Mehandi makes me sweat. Mumbai is one of those places where if you pray hard enough the rain Gods actually oblige. Displaying Divine mercy the heavens gates opened and drowned the city. Allowed me to get to my squash game and avoid the Mehandi all in one deft stroke. Thank God for small mercies. Ashus car however displayed tremendous spirit in swimming all the way to the venue. All rise, and applaud.

Next stop Sehra Bandi. All this folks was a part of my education. I had no clue that these words existed. The ceremony involves putting a burden... sorry turban on the grooms head and then covering his face with beads and giving him some rear view mirrors. The Ant seemed quite weighed down by the whole thing and was happy to take the thing off and hand it over to me. Me. me.....me......me????? Thats when the jokes regarding my sole single status started. Holding the headgear would bring me luck and get me hitched or so quipped the Ants mom. Yeah right, can someone tell me how a chap can get lucky and hitched at the same time? OxyMoron. Given the headgear situation the Ant was in a tearing hurry to get the thing done with and was really keen on getting to the venue. The phone came to our rescue yet again. Nope tempted as he was the Ant didnt resort to calling her up and saying I do on GSM. Slow down fellows this aint fiction. All that we used the phone to do is call up the brides people and politely ask them if we could leave since we were all ready and raring to go. Sacrilege in true north Indian terms I am told. The men are just supposed to saunter whenever they want grab the women and display the last bit of manliness that they would ever muster in that lifetime. Not for the Ants family this smash and grab routine. The Wall was made the official negotiator, a position he misused throughout the eve.

The hectic pace at which events were racing by leaves my mind dizzy just thinking about it even now. Before you could say "I dont think you ought to get married in your 30's pal" we were at the ISKON temple amongst a heavy downpour. This is where the really quaint stuff began. Am going to put it down with bullet points so that you poor innocent readers can guard against these while your at your personal version of the monsoon wedding. So here goes:

• The solo photo shoot: This is where the prince is hustled into a corner and exposed to the camera and flash for so long that you could burn enough flash bulbs to create a solid waste pollution issue that could actually add an inch to the radius of earth. The groom in this time is expected to espouses looks that vary expressions seen on Genghis Khan wax statues in Madam Tussads to more contemporary facial expressions imagined by Sylvestres creater in Loony Tunes.
• The entire "Joote" aka shoes tragedy: The Ant was robbed of his shoes, by non other than our stalwarts from Manipal. Why they did this I dont fathom. But I did witness a dubious negotiation conducted between the Wall and the Amozonian women that left me gasping. Never in all my journeys from birth to date have I heard stuff like this and I pray that I never do. The Wall I figure made a neat pile on the side while everyone else was wondering what hit them. Moral of the story: If you must trust anyone with your shoes let it not be the Wall.
• The DUI test: The pandit who was conducting the event I am convinced is training for an alternate career on comedy central. Not only did he joke about the entire ritual with the gathered crowd, but also made the couple conduct the DUI straight line test (was sensitive enough to use flowers for the line). All very interesting. The manipal boys were suggesting that I pay the man a hefty ransom for the 'induction programme'.
• The after shaadi snaps: Now subjected to the lens is the newly married couple. To call it a repeat of the 1st session would not be doing this session any justice at all. Me thinks the flash bulbs used this time around could be used to make a white dwarf out of a black hole (please note I still dont know whether the white dwarf precedes the black hole or vice versa, but please grant me my poetic licence)

You know I actually have enough ammunition for a part IV, but with 5 sessions behind me in getting here am going to give the creative juices some rest. My longest effort to date a tribute to an old pal.

Join me in wishing the happy couple sunshine and prosperity. Cheers