Global Guest Blogging at its Best

My Elder Son’s Wedding

In Guest Blogger, Wedding Disasters on May 13, 2012 at 12:01 am

This week, I am very pleased to welcome my Guest Blogger Ritu Lalit Guest Blogger Author Ritu Lalit on Amelia Curzon's Blog - "Carte Blanche" with her amusing recollections of her son’s wedding. A catalogue of disasters occurs, which I’m sure many of us can relate to, when fate intervenes and destroys even the best laid plans.

I got married in the dark ages, colour TV was years away, and so mercifully was spared of creative licence taken by video cameramen. The only weird stuff I have is a very theatrical shot of my mehendi covered hands with ex’s face smack in the middle.

Kid#1 was not so lucky {insert evil grin} Being born in the age where phone cameras and instant recording are the norm, he simply did not have a chance. Kid#1 is reserved and did not show much interest in the opposite sex. It became a matter for concern to me since Kid#2, 8 years his junior reached his teens and discovered girls in a big way. Then the unexpected happened. Kid#1 declared that he had fallen in love ….. An announcement which led to much hysterical merriment from Kid#2 and me. No I am describing it all wrong. Let me begin again ………………

Gentle sounds of Backstreet Boys instead of Savage Garden are wafting out of Kid#1’s room. I walk in surprised and concerned, closely followed by Kid#2

Me: Are you okay

Kid#1: Yeah I guess so (accompanied by goofy smile)

Kid#2: Dude your taste in music has become bad, It sucks!!!!

Me: Nah, I think it’s improved. Wassup?

Kid#1: I dunno …. Something is happening to me …. I feel kinda different

Me: Tummy upset?

(Don’t knock it, in my years of child rearing I have found that Digene solves many a problem)

Kid#1: (Dreamy eyed and all smiley) No ……

Kid#2: (Looking horrified) What’s wrong with you – you look corny

And rushes to the p.c. to change the music to some rock

Kid#1: No, don’t. Just let Backstreet Boys play

Both of us: WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU??????

Kid#1: I think I am in love

Total stunned silence … both Kid #2 and I exchange surprised glances and burst into giggles. I try to stifle the giggles and ask

Me: When? Who?? Are you aware that you need a female to fall in love with?

Kid#2: Why?

Kid#1: I asked her to marry me.

Me: Huh!!? Excuse me? Aren’t you supposed to say you are in love, date for a while and then propose?

Kid#1: (With idiotic grin on face) I just know its right – so I proposed

Me: (Mentally applying brakes on my hysteria) I am so happy for you, but ……

Kid#2: Baffled totally: Why? And why are you listening to sappy music?

Me: Totally losing it and clutching my stomach at this point: Ha Ha Ha

Kid #1: protesting: Ma!!!!!!

Both Kid#2 and I flee from the room


At the very outset, let me assure you that the entire story is the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God

Honest!!!  Even though I have fertile imagination, I could not have invented this.  You have to admit this is vintage blogging material.

I knew DIL as one of Kid#1′s group of friends, no surprises there …. so had no problems with the match.  I suppose her parents thought likewise.  Things progressed fast.  I discovered that Kid#1 could be quite obedient, provided I routed my demands through DIL, and so made hay while the sun shone.  Many life changing decisions were reached thanks to the good offices of DIL.  Then came the Roka …. the initial pooja held to declare the intent to marry so to speak.  I was in favour of a long engagement; her parents wanted a formal declaration.  Since I could empathise with their point of view (they are the ladki vale) – we had the ROKA.

The day dawned bright and clear.  I sent both the boys to get their hair cuts, get the handy cam organised etc., etc. while I got busy with the millions of things parents of a groom have to do at the last minute.  I have outlived my immediate family so had invited my mother’s sister and husband as family for the ceremony.  It was terribly hot that day.  August normally is not so hot.  We had to reach DIL’s maika at 7 p.m.  I normally don’t wear saris or make up.  So whenever the occasion demands, I go to a beauty parlour to dress up.  It is easy and they do a better job than I ever could.  By 5 p.m. I had left for the parlour, the plan being that Kid#2 would go with my uncle and aunt to DIL’s maika which is 5 minutes from our place, and Kid#1 and I would follow by 7 pm.  It started raining by 6 p.m.  By 6.30 p.m. it was a deluge.  Ishaan's wedding on Amelia Curzon's Blog - "Carte Blanche"Somehow Kid#1 who was looking very, very handsome in his fine suit, and I (much bedecked in saree and jewellery) got into the car and we started driving down to DIL’s home.   We looked at the watch, it was 7 p.m. and we were out of petrol.  We started driving to the petrol pump, which was almost impossible … since all the roads were flooded.  Somehow we persevered, all the while blaming each other for the lapse in judgement.  Dammit we should have filled the tank a day earlier.  Then things started getting really interesting.

1. We had almost reached the petrol pump, when the car got waterlogged and died out.

2. The entire city’s power supply went.

3. While we were wondering what to do, a truck drove very close to our car and waves of water flowed in from beneath the car floor wetting the skirt of my saree and my sandals and Kid#1′s very fine trousers and shoes.

4. Both of us stopped fighting and looked at each other speechless.  Then we started looking for plan no. 2.

5. Kid#1 decided that he would push the car while I would try to start it.

6. It was 8 p.m.

7.  We tried to start the car; we really, really did … but the car had decided that there would be no Roka I guess.  It refused.  By this time all the roads were littered with dead cars.  It became impossible to push start the car – there was no space.

8. Kid#1′s fine suit looked like a rag; I was sitting inside the car with my saree hitched above my knees and sandals on the dashboard.  My make-up and hairdo! … what make up and hairdo?????

9. It was 9.15 p.m.

10. Kid #1 gave up and came and sat down in the car, sweating profusely.  I gave him a tissue and while he was wiping his face, my foot-in-mouthitis kicked in and I said “Chala Murari Hero Ban Ne”.

Translation: An ordinary boy tries to become a hero … said in a sarcastic tone, it carries quite a punch!

He glared and said icily, “Not Funny!” and I tried (I swear I did) not to laugh.

11. It was 9.30 p.m.  The rain was down to a drizzle.  DIL’s father and brother came looking for their bridegroom and rescued us.

12. We ditched the car and went to their home in their car… and Kid#1 had his roka in his brother-in-law’s kurta pajama and I graced the ceremony in a dripping wet saree.

Ah well … just another normal day in our insane life …………

The rest of the story:

My blog link:


  1. Thanks for the blogger nod, Amelia. I’ve tagged you back. Enjoy!

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