It was 4.30 in the evening. All of us were awaiting with bated breath the arrival of a very important person in all our lives. A person who would change my life forever and bring joy to all of us. It was raining that day in Mumbai, perhaps the advent of something auspicious?
I was dressed in a blue salwar, kitchen was filled with the aroma of delicacies. You would have guessed by now what it would have been: Yes it was the ‘ponu-pakkara’ ceremony being conducted in my house.
Usually, I would eagerly go and hog the delicacies being made in the kitchen, but that day where was the stomach to do that? The expert cook in the family, my eldest athai, was in charge of the cooking, my mama’s family was there in full support, my sisters were there, wondering if this would be the one, finally.
You know how the procedure is: after at least half-a-dozen bhajji-sojji sessions it clicks with only one person. If I said yes to the groom, his side would say sorry.
Can’t be that the bhajji-soojji department was shaky and was responsible for the negative answer. We had ensured that it would be our strongpoint, with my athai, veteran of so many grand occasions, (wo)manning that department. She can actually take up some catering service for ‘ponu-pakkals’. And there were times that I preferred the bhajji-soojji my athai made to the guy who had come to see me.
Frankly, my family was getting a little apprehensive if the sessions would go on and on. Was I being too choosy? Everyday there was news floating about how this cousin had got engaged, that friend was working up through the corporate ladder, and here I was in the middle of everything, doing my yoga teachers training course, my M.A. in sociology, and the greatest disqualification, no computer qualification. Whoever said that getting a daughter married and building a house is the same, was not wrong.
It was 4.30 and they were there on the dot. I was not allowed to see Mani, was asked to sit in my bedroom till I was called. But my sisters were free to do the casual walking-about stuff and feed me with vital info.
As usual, it was the sister, younger to me, who gave the report, “Hey, he looks really smart, very down-to-earth, no airs of staying in the US”. “Hey Kanaks, if this clicks, I will be sooooo happy.” Well that is what she had told me the last time a guy came to see me!! I just blurted out an uninterested “Yeah?” and gave a grim smile.
Then there came my youngest sister, “Hey Kanaks, he is really a witty, very friendly chap.” I flashed another readymade smile.
Hey, when was ‘I’ supposed to see the guy? I could hear some happy noises from the hall. Seemed someone knew someone and ‘malarum ninaivugal’ was going on in the hall. After half-an-hour, I thought they had forgotten the purpose they were here for. Then I thought, should I just go and introduce myself to them?
Seems like the same thoughts were running through Mani’s head too. As though sensing my thoughts, my mom would peep into my room in-between the serving and tell me, “Don’t come until you are called for.”
Yeah, may be I will be called when it is dinner time. May be I could just take a nap meanwhile?
The conversation amongst Mani’s sister’s family and my extended family would have continued if not for some delicate prompting from Mani to his sister.
“Kanaka please take this tray and serve the juice.” I just took the tray and walked into the hall, for a few minutes searching the hall for the guy, amidst what seemed a sea of faces. And I spotted Mani at last.
Not knowing what to do, I just served the juice and stood along with my sisters. I kept watching him as he made small talk with my family, but, hey, he was not looking at me constantly. (When I asked Mani later about this, he said with so many people around he couldn’t keep looking at me!)
May be I should just go and sit in the room again till I am called for a private meeting or something? Now, will someone please pop that topic of having a one-to-one meeting with this guy? We did get to have a one-to-one meeting and they left promising to call us back.
Now the countdown began. Everyone was impressed, a very intelligent boy, smiling face, most important, he worked his way up all on his own. He was down-to-earth. Did he not say to my mom, standing in a corner, obviously with tension written in large bold letters, “Why are you tense mami? Please take a seat, have some
bhajji-soojji.”
My athai’s family, my mama’s family and, of course, we, traced their path home. “It is already an hour. They should have reached by now.”
Someone said, “Hmm, but it is raining, may be it is taking them longer to reach home.”
And my sister, hugging me once again, my over-enthu sister, “Kanaks, I am sure they will say yes”.
“It is yes from your side, right?” it was my mama now.
It was a little over two hours, my relatives had to get back to their houses.
“May be they will call after some time.”
As everyone was preparing to leave and I was digging into some bhajjis finally… they tasted yummy… may be ‘ponu-pakkal’ is not that bad after all if one could gorge on these regularly. What do you say?
Finally, the phone rang. And it was a ‘yes’ from their side and time for hugs and kisses and blessings from everyone. And, finally, some peace in my life. But oops! Got to make these bhajji-soojjis myself hereafter.
We got married in November. And my globe-trotting journey began,with my hubby Mani who loves to see places. He is the happiest when I too enjoy the places that he loves. And so far it has been such a wonderful time travelling in the US, now Europe.
Won’t you be there with us as we travel the world beginning with our very own Munnar (Kerala) God’s own country in my next column?
Kanakadhara Subramanian
