On the 10th of May, as the Mandor Express slowly came to a halt at New Delhi railway Station, I could see Ranbir waiting for me on the platform. We planned to leave for Chandigarh together and had hired a cab which was waiting for us but at the wrong Exit though. After a number of calls trying to locate our "rath" for the "yatra"; we got into the right cab and headed towards Chandigarh. Our first task was to examine the arrangements made for accommodation of the Baraatis who would start reaching Chandigarh in batches the very next day. After a tiring journey and a heavy lunch, we were in no mood to get down to business and knowing that our "Jawaan" would doze off, I dragged him out into the streets for house hunting. This task had suddenly become number one on my priority list because while we were on our way to Chandigarh, I got the news that my transfer to Chandigarh had materialized. I had come to know about this development well in advance but was not sure about the timing of the order. But my "love" for Jodhpur forced me to pack all my stuff without waiting for the announcement and carry with me to Chandigarh all that I had accumulated in my nomadic existence in the last few years. My luggage needed an address and I wanted to do away with my checklist at the earliest. This little afternoon exercise seemed futile at the end as all we got were only mobile numbers and all of those were of shrewd and boring broker "uncles". Before Ron could hurl abuses at me, I promised to take him to the wise Old Monk at night. Trust me, nothing pleased him more then.
Now a days though, he prefers to go and see that monk only if his psychologist accompanies him. It seems that the Psychologist too "enjoys" the company of wise people like Old Monk or Teachers. "Ram milaye Jodi....ek Bewra kya kam tha...joh usko mil gayi Bewri"....hehehehe. This couple is living their blissful married life and capturing each moment frame by frame. Good to see them enjoy themselves. Yeh dekh ke doston ka dil "Garden Garden" ho jaata hain!!!! Apparently they have gone to the city of love seeking some DOPE and after that they plan to wash away their sins before the POPE.
Anyways, there is not enough space to squeeze in any other story and so let me get back to the subject of this post. That evening, we inspected the venue and realised the we couldn't get a better place than what had been arranged for stay and marriage. The place was nothing great but the words "Bongo Bhawan" were reassuring enough in a beautiful but strange city, where people seem to know more about their neighbours' cars and less about their neighbours. The arrangements had more or less been taken care of by two wonderful "Probashi Bangaali" strangers, Milan Da and Sameer Da who were commanding their subordinates as if it was the wedding of someone in their family itself. In fact they went an extra mile to make sure that the wedding remained true to its Bengali roots.
Next day morning I was woken up by the ring of my phone and the voice on the other end instructed me to reach some place within an hour if I did not want to lose out on a good house available on rent. I left Ron in the hotel and at 7.30 in the morning, I sealed the deal and paid the advance. I was damn happy and proud of myself as my previous house hunting experiences were nothing short of harrowing. We spent the day roaming around in Sector 17, watched a movie as well perhaps and returned back to the base to check if the catering guys had started working there. This was the evening when the groom normally enjoys the pampering but this poor groom instead was waiting on the platform along the tracks trying to find some rhythm in the "Chugh Chugh" music from the trains. The bride, on the other hand, was busy dancing to the latest tracks on the platform specially created for the Lady Sangeet celebrations in some upscale hotel unmindful of the hardwork being put up by her life partner just to get married. The first set of Baraatis had reached and I could see Adi flashing his teeth to catch our attention. I could see lot of Bags had come for my wedding and every couple had one Baraati with them. I smiled as I realised that this is a familiar sight when women are involved. After ensuring that every Bag had been accounted for, we escorted the Baraatis back to the Bongo Bhawan where everyone settled in nicely.
Meanwhile I handpicked talented people(including Baba) from the group that gathered there and rushed to Kalibari to catch hold of the priest who had promised to get me married. This was a tense moment as all our preparations were based on the assurance that he had given a few months back over the phone. While Baba was discussing the SOP with the priest, I raided the temple canteen and got ourselves some delicious mishti doi. The final task was to go back to the station to receive the remaining Baraatis amongst whom was one Mr.Bob, the livewire in the family. Suddenly it seemed that I was not nervous anymore in that strange setting and there was a sense of confidence within me that the next couple of days would be full of fun and happiness.
12th May, 2013 was like just another day for so many people but the rising Sun signified the start of a new phase of my life. I started the day by taking Mishtimoni, Bodomamu and the bunch of "monkeys" (Adi, Ron, Bob, Abhi and TANIA) along to show the house that I got on rent. Thanks to Boromamu's nationwide network of friends and colleagues, we were tortured with a strange mix of "Lime Rooh Afza" at one such colleague's house and probably this drove my "opportunistic" friends to whisk the "Bhanjaa" away for some sort of Bachelor Party at a nearby pub as a punishment for his Mama's wrongdoings....!!! They drank and ate while I was sitting there waiting to loosen my wallet as and when the moment arrived. The moment did arrive but it was well past the lunch timings. I was the only one who returned hungry as the mere sight of my friends shamelessly tearing into the chicken and pork could not satiate my hunger.
All the waiting, so much of patience, so many conversations, lot many arguments, a number of tough decisions,lot of convincing and a near perfect execution......yeah the special moment was only a couple of hours away. I thought that it was time to forget all that and peacefully enjoy the last moments of Bachelorhood and get ready to tie the knot. Before that I had to tie my dhoti first though and this thought was making me nervous. But just as I was about to get ready, I had to rush to sector 17 for I had forgotten to pick up gift for "Saala" (Not the "Kamina" types if I may add). And we took a liking to the UCB store there and ended up spending more than an hour there. When we reached back the venue, the Bride had already arrived. Ron told me "yaar tujhe dekh ke lag hi nahi raha ki tera shaadi ho raha hain". I replied "Mujhe bhi nahi lag raha".....hehehehe!!!
The wedding ceremony was short and sweet. The priest tried to get me married into the T-Series family but my "33.26% downloaded wife" corrected him immediately. She could not do anything about her papa though as he was giving her hand away in marriage through specially written piece of mantra that was a funny cocktail of French and Latin. In the midst of all this, I was busy showing off that I understood every bit of "pundarikakshya purakakashya" even though I was preoccupied with the lady in the red benarasi sitting beside me. The day ended with us getting married in Bengali tradition and now it was time to get ready for the sequel with Punjabi tadka slated to take place the very next day. I could do nothing as my wife was being taken away just to be presented before me as my future wife the following day again. "Saala Bakra do do baar halal hua". The night went by as I took advantage of my "quasi-married" status and enjoyed an impromptu get-together with friends and Jijaji. The three hour long ridiculous discussion just centered around the date of 31st July, 2012 and repetition of the following words........"Lekin July 31st hi kyun???"!!!
Sunday morning brought about a change in the venue and the Baraat reached the Sunpark Hotel. The Sun had actually parked itself there as I found out when every Baraati decided to run for cover. I was deserted in that furnace of a car with a "flower vase" on my head for a "sehra" and fancy ethnic suit made of a fabric as heavy as that of a "shamiaana" . The cruel gang of Bouncers(saalis and Bhabis) still didn't care and I had to pay 5.00 lac paise to get a stag entry. While the others would have turned back from the Gate, I fought the odds and ate a laddu made out of chilly powder so that the poor girl does not lose out on a gem of a human being. They even stole my sandal and even though I could have stopped the thief yet I didn't care as "jijaji ka juta bhi saale ke liye ashirwaad hota hain"...lol. The havan started and this time my father fumbled his way through the process while Gul and I were wondering whether we would get double the amount of gifts for the fact that we took fourteen pheras instead of seven. While all of us were counting pheras, the bunch of monkeys were counting pegs somewhere else in the city.
The two day test match got over by the evening and I drove away with my prize. Of course I had to retire as well after this match winning effort for it rendered me unavailable for other tournaments. But that was the idea...wasn't it??? The theory ends here and apologies for an outrageously lengthy one again. In case you opened your eyes just now, the key to successfully planning one's own wedding is to never lose sight of the prize. And that prize is not the girl alone but the happiness for all in the family. That is the the secret behind the success of this theory. All the best to all those who are busy putting my "By Fluke" Theory into Practice......Papad belnaa sikhlo bhai log!!!
