(Discalimer :Parental Alert- you have to be 18years and above to read the contents of this post. All Characters/names andincidents are purely imaginative and a work of fiction. Read at your own Risk)
Madras where I live has a very brief rainy season- it lastsat the most a couple of weeks. And hence when the rains finally turn up- wehave learnt to enjoy it to the full. One of the greatest pleasures of a dampand rainy day is to curl up in bed with a spine-chilling horror novel- one ofthe old classics would do fine. If you really have to go out on a rainyday….I prefer to travel in the car with all windows closed. Thats because therains have a peculiar effect on me- they make me very horny- especially when Iam commuting in the city and on all the roads, wherever I look, there are happycouples going about on motorbikes, the girls sitting behind with wet clothesand draped on the guys like a close fitting garment- suggesting all sorts ofthings to my fertile imagination….HA! the travails of being a SingleMale……
My dad, on the other hand has certain peculiar ideas of howto spend time on a rainy sunday morning- regardless of my protestations atbeing denied my usual sunday-sleep-a-thon. He wanted me to go see a girl- theusual girl-seeing ceremony- early on a sunday morning. This was the first I hadheard about it- and when I asked him for details- he replied curtly (in hisusual way)- the horoscopes had matched and if I wanted to see the girl- I hadto get ready and come in person, ’cause they werent handing out any photographsof the girl, they were very traditional.
And so we went, all three of us (plus the driver)….my momjabbering at how I always seemed to choose the worst possible dress to wear togirl-seeing- out of my entire wardrobe. I gradually tuned out my mother’sdroning and looked out the window -just as a sleek and slim female body slid bymy slow moving car in a flash; accelerating smoothly past, on a Honda Activabike, raising my lust quotient up by a hundredfold in an instant and just as Iglared hard in her direction she had melted into the rain-fed distance leavingme with an instant hard-on, which I had to get rid of, as soon as possible.For, just think of the questions on the brides family’s mind if the groomturned up for the girl-seeing ceremony with a humongous erection clearlyvisible in his all-too tight pants; as my mom insisted that I always wear thesmallest sized pants I had- to minimize the size of my waist which to put itmildly – was a sign of my growing prosperity and professional success…I shookmy head to clear that girl on the bike but couldn’t get rid of her. If theworld was coming to an end by 2012 as the climate change people kept screaming,that was the kind of female body I wanted to spend the end of days with..
Anyway,we finally reached Tiruvanmiyur and alighted at the girls house, with theconfirmation being a plaque reading “Dr.V******, Prof (retd) Veternarycollege, Chennai”. They were waiting out at the door- the parents of thegirl. The girl’s father seemed a decent sort, a short, skinny guy – but totallymismatched by his wife…she was tall, fair and an absolutely well-preservedlady in her early forties. If aunty was any indication- the girl must be astunner, I thought, my hopes soaring with every second. And then we wereinvited inside and seated on a low comfortable sofa in the drawing room by thegirls mother. As the elders exchanged pleasantries on nothing, I leant back andwaited with bated breath -for the ordeal to start. And then like a breath offresh air- a tall, slim, sexy, beautiful girl in a simple salwar, with minimaljewellery and absolutely no make-up, wafted in with a plate of eatables andwent about distributing it to everyone in the room.
So,this divinity was who I had to come to see? I felt a thump in my heart as Istared star-struck at her and she handed over to me a plate of sweets andsavouries. My hand shook as I reached out to accept the plate from her and as Iaccidentally touched a finger of hers, an electric current shot through me. Andas she handed it over she glanced at me and gave me a smile. It wasn’t a coy,half-smile, it was a full-on beaming grin. Maybe she was just amused at myreaction on seeing her – the way I was salivating in her presence. But ofcourse, I couldn’t help it, she was that beautiful. As she finished servingeveryone and moved on into the house I leant back with a shame-faced grin on myface. This, this, was the moment I had been looking for. This was my idealmatch for marriage. That sweet smile playing on her lips as she handed myplate, that meaningful look in her doe-like eyes, that, oh so, innocentlycontrived touching of feathers, everything indicated her approval of me. I wasin heaven. If I had a mangalsutra in my hands right then, I was ready to tie iton her neck at that very instant.
And then tragedy struck- by the un-looked for entrance ofyet another girl, who came and sat in the chair right opposite us. I made theconnection immediately- this was the original piece, the girl I had come tosee, the other must have been a servant maid. Tall and well built ( a bit toomuch) this girl was clad in the proper dress- the traditional Kanchevaram silkSaree, heavily draped with jewels, and had a thick coating of make-up whichjust coudnt hide the fact that she was a little (to put it mildly) mature andmanly, with a forbidding expression on her face- as if she hated the verythought of this ceremony.
My head was all in a whirl. I felt like I had been doublepunched by Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield in tandem. And I could feel theTitanic of my Love slowly sinking beneath the cold waters of the Atlantic,after having crashed on this ice-berg sitting opposite me. And then my motherhad her usual “oops” moment. My mom had been busy in a discussionwith aunty, who was sitting on the other side of her. And now she turned aroundto the girl in front and asked “Is this your elder daughter? how many kidsdoes she have and what does her husband do?” ……. The silence whichfollowed this question must have lasted for mere seconds but felt like eons asI sat there cringing at my mothers statement. She had made the fundamental butunpardonable mistake of confusing the two girls, but all I could hear – werethe sound of those airliners crashing into the Twin towers of my life.
And then the girl’s father started protesting volubly“No, no this is Subashini the girl you have come to see, she is working at SifyCommunications as a networking engineer….The other one who came first is myyounger daughter Sushmitha, she is very young, she is just doing her final yearengineering in Rajalakshmi engineering college”. My mother immediately realizedher mistake but nevertheless ploughed on blustering bravely “Sorry, I didn’tsee the photo- you didn’t send us the photos- so we couldn’t recognize thegirl” . All perfectly true, but made no iota of difference to the majorblunder she had made.
Ithought, I had maybe one chance to put things right- I could ask to speak tothe girl in private and apologize profusely for my mother’s mistake (everythingexcept falling at her feet if necessary). But the girl had gone in by then andher father turned down my request saying they were a very traditional familyand their blasted traditions did not allow it. So we escaped out of there- withour tails between our legs- and as we travelled back- the entire car was filledwith a gloomy atmosphere. My mom couldn’t bear the silence and finally blurtedout in a defensively belligerent tone “What? She looked so mature didn’t she?Like a woman who had already borne children and not like an unmarriedgirl….” After a minute I said “Mom” in an exasperated tone”That was un-called for” She thought it over and then said”Ok, we will go home and then call them up and apologize” Mydad said at that juncture “Better to leave it alone for a couple of daysand then we can call….the wound will have time to heal”. So we allagreed to that.
Meanwhilei thought to myself that I would have to lie low for the next couple of weeks,change my route and so on- to avoid the contract -killers that girl was sure tohire to get me……
Thethings my parents do……and the problems they get me into….