So I’ve been back in Delhi a whole week, and have been putting off writing about the honeymoon which, btw, was the craziest thing I have ever done. We rode all the way from Delhi to Manali – that’s close to 600 kms if you take the obvious route. Since we were so high on life, we decided to take the longer route.
And you know what? I want to tell you all about the trip. I really do. But there’s a part of me that believes that if I put it down here, write about it, it’ll be over. And I don’t want it to be over. I want to bask in the glory of being a newlywed as long as I can. I want to think of the crazy bike ride as something that just happened.
But the truth is, it’s been three weeks since I got married. The henna has faded and I’ve taken off the red and white bangles and sindoor and the sarees. One week since we came back from the honeymoon. I’m back to being me and dragging my clumsy lead-like feet to work. And the only thing that will maybe bring the zest back into life is to talk about the trip. So I need to get around to that. Now.
So we started on the 21st at around midnight, and went down (we live on the second floor) to load all our stuff on the bike. I reached first (or was it his plan all along?) and noticed a ‘Just Married’ sign on the bike. Continue reading Honeymoon Horror Stories – I
You already know how I got to my miserable spot in bed. I tossed and turned all night!
We had an early wedding. I was expected to be ready by 6:00 am for a simple ceremony that was going to start at 6:45. I jumped out of bed at 4:45, woke my mom and brother up, and practically went cartwheeling into the washroom. By 5:45 am, I had bumped into every piece of furniture in the room, and had worn my red-gold saree, waiting for the Mister and the ladies from his family to arrive.
I had no idea what Mister was going to wear to the wedding, so you can imagine my state of mind. I found myself hoping he’d wear something that would look nice in the photographs. And in that moment I realized how shallow I am.
We still had some time, so my brother and I took some really silly selfies.
The groom’s party reached at 5:45 am, just in time for the alta ceremony. Continue reading Wedding Chronicles – Day 2
My mom, my brother and I left for Kolkata on the 14th of May. The train journey was fun but painfully long (about 18 hours) and slow, because:
- Mom can be a real pain when you’re traveling. She is a supremely fussy vegetarian. She will:
- Not eat at a restaurant if they also serve non-veg food, even if it is prepared separately.
- Not eat at a pure veg restaurant unless it smells good.
- Not eat at a pure veg restaurant unless they serve north Indian (Punjabi) cuisine.
- Not eat on trains even if you tell her a thousand times that they do not cook in-house and have caterers.
- Make faces when you eat food on a train or on the street or anywhere else that she wouldn’t eat.
- My brother A is constantly on the phone and will not listen to anything you say.
- My mom rolls her eyes a LOT. She complains even more.
- When mom complains, I start giving her a lecture about patience and we end up fighting.
- When #2 happens, #3 happens and subsequently, #4 happens.
Continue reading Wedding Chronicles – Day 1
You know how when you’re little you want your wedding to be just perfect; how you imagine yourself in a bright red saree with a gold border, gold jewelry that is just the right size, hair done up in a neat little bouffant, and makeup that makes you look radiant; how you just know your family and friends are going to fawn over you as you get mehendi applied to your palms; and how much you want the photographs to be beautiful and candid at the same time? You know how you play that gooey-as-hell Kabhi Kabhi song again and again in your head, picturing yourself and your dreamboat in the sequence instead of Amitabh and his ugly consort?
I don’t. Continue reading of little ironies