Rads wedding date has been decided on! Finally! 27th April is the mubarak occasion. The wedding will be in Gurgaon so I will shirk away from all duty to hang around with my friends! Well done Rads! Rads, btw would be in Delhi for a week sometime in Feb to do all her shaadi shopping. Anybody wanting to finish theirs well before the wedding may contact Rads and tag along, though I have a feeling such person's shopping would largely be pushed in the background.
Also, I am wondering if Rads can manage to defeat our dear Aussie cousin Punni's shopping madness in Delhi. The said event occurred early this year when Punni left her kids with her Mom back home and went crazy in Delhi for what we know as a shopping marathon. When she got back from Delhi, her room had so many shoes, it resembled gurudwara-stairs!
Opinions welcome.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Saree-pool
Public memory is short. The women in my family are encashing on this fact quite nicely by forming a saree-pool. Escalating prices and an economical crunch means that the women in my house do not have the luxury to buy new sarees every so often anymore. They cannot afford to compromise and wear the same sarees to more than 3 occasions and that too when they are spread over a considerable period of time. No sir, what would the other women say? [Dramatic gasp]
So they have formed a central pool of sarees, which is accessible to every female in the family. Here is how this works. The family is obviously spread all over the country. So my mom and aunts here in Doon began with exchanging their sarees with my aunts elsewhere. My mom gets her sisters' sarees and Rads mom and Monu's mom do the same. In return, they give their good sarees to their sisters or sisters-in-law. Now they have a whole pool of new sarees to wear for one season. Next, they trade with my cousins or other female relatives elsewhere.
In case the function is one where all members have to attend, the rule for preference is that the woman who is closest to the couple getting married or their family would get to choose first. That's how it works.
It is incredible to observe how women learn to survive on whatever means are available. And survive in style. Though it is also noteworthy that for one saree, almost every woman in my family- from Dehradun to Ranchi to Kanpur to Panagarh has a blouse ready.
So they have formed a central pool of sarees, which is accessible to every female in the family. Here is how this works. The family is obviously spread all over the country. So my mom and aunts here in Doon began with exchanging their sarees with my aunts elsewhere. My mom gets her sisters' sarees and Rads mom and Monu's mom do the same. In return, they give their good sarees to their sisters or sisters-in-law. Now they have a whole pool of new sarees to wear for one season. Next, they trade with my cousins or other female relatives elsewhere.
In case the function is one where all members have to attend, the rule for preference is that the woman who is closest to the couple getting married or their family would get to choose first. That's how it works.
It is incredible to observe how women learn to survive on whatever means are available. And survive in style. Though it is also noteworthy that for one saree, almost every woman in my family- from Dehradun to Ranchi to Kanpur to Panagarh has a blouse ready.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Shaant, Shaant, SHAANT
My dad and I are the two most astoundingly wela people on the face of this Earth. Were you to be sitting besides someone who knows us while reading the statement and were you to shake your head and say "How ridiculous" or something representing that sentiment, our acquaintance would look at you and say, "No, no; it's quite true." THAT wela. If this acquaintance were to be my chacha, he would animatedly discuss his case with a frightening zest.
So we are at our idle best during Dad's daily rounds of drinks in the evenings. Now, it often happens that there is a special event, occasion or person that we wait for, in great anticipation during a particular time in our lives. And in our wait, we tend to discuss the matter to such lengths, covering such minute details that we quite shred it to pieces.
These days Ramu's wedding is THAT topic for us. Day in and day out, we talk about nothing but who would be invited, what would we wear, where would Dhoni stand during the wedding, which car would be given to which guest and more importantly, where it would come from and so forth.
After the guest lists had been mentally prepared and the menu decided, we found-one fine evening- that we had nothing more to talk about in context of THE wedding. We had covered the minutest point. Never before had the 2 of us ever reached a point so close to the event of our conversation falling back on finances, politics, history or such important issues.
As we frantically scanned our minds for a saving grace, it came externally in the form of Mom, who noticing the sudden hush that had descended over the house, came into the room; said, "Bohot shant ho tum log"; and unknowingly saved our minds from getting caught into the quagmire of what is wrong with the world, and the rather uncomfortable conscience-stirring it causes.
"Shaant", I mused, "is a good name". "Shaant". "Shaant Kakkar". "Interesting". Dad caught on. "Ramu's first son should be named Shaant".
And then it started. We discussed the possibility of the child being a girl and decided to call her Shanti. We also discussed the widely-believed rule (actually, just believed by 2 very wide people- dad and I) that a kid turns out to be the exact opposite of what is name represents.
So Shaant would invariably be cranky and screechy and Dad and I gleefully noted that when he would pull at my brother's rapidly diminishing hair and scream his baby lungs out, we would be able to shout, "shaant,Shaant, SHAANT".
Of course, if the baby in question is an equally cranky Shaanti, our phrase then would be "Shaanti, SHAANTI".
So we are at our idle best during Dad's daily rounds of drinks in the evenings. Now, it often happens that there is a special event, occasion or person that we wait for, in great anticipation during a particular time in our lives. And in our wait, we tend to discuss the matter to such lengths, covering such minute details that we quite shred it to pieces.
These days Ramu's wedding is THAT topic for us. Day in and day out, we talk about nothing but who would be invited, what would we wear, where would Dhoni stand during the wedding, which car would be given to which guest and more importantly, where it would come from and so forth.
After the guest lists had been mentally prepared and the menu decided, we found-one fine evening- that we had nothing more to talk about in context of THE wedding. We had covered the minutest point. Never before had the 2 of us ever reached a point so close to the event of our conversation falling back on finances, politics, history or such important issues.
As we frantically scanned our minds for a saving grace, it came externally in the form of Mom, who noticing the sudden hush that had descended over the house, came into the room; said, "Bohot shant ho tum log"; and unknowingly saved our minds from getting caught into the quagmire of what is wrong with the world, and the rather uncomfortable conscience-stirring it causes.
"Shaant", I mused, "is a good name". "Shaant". "Shaant Kakkar". "Interesting". Dad caught on. "Ramu's first son should be named Shaant".
And then it started. We discussed the possibility of the child being a girl and decided to call her Shanti. We also discussed the widely-believed rule (actually, just believed by 2 very wide people- dad and I) that a kid turns out to be the exact opposite of what is name represents.
So Shaant would invariably be cranky and screechy and Dad and I gleefully noted that when he would pull at my brother's rapidly diminishing hair and scream his baby lungs out, we would be able to shout, "shaant,Shaant, SHAANT".
Of course, if the baby in question is an equally cranky Shaanti, our phrase then would be "Shaanti, SHAANTI".
Thursday, November 27, 2008
New age sagan
So with changing times, the rules of weddings and gifts are changing. Rad's cousin from her mother's side is getting married soon. His parents chose to give the Cadbury's chocolates box with the wedding invitations, as opposed to the usual mithais. This was appreciated by everyone, especially me. I could obviously only nod as the women praised the revolutionary idea- for my mouth was stuffed with nutties and gems that I may add taste like heaven together- but the sentiment was put across.
In any case, even though Rads isn't married yet, she has been put under the "done" category. All eyes are now on Ramu and when he will finally be trapped by the golden ring. So subconsciously, we tend to talk about what would happen in Ramu's wedding. So while bua said she liked the idea of chocolates with wedding cards, I thought it should reflect more of our personality.
So ladies and gentlemen, subject to Ramu finally learning the fine art of saving-which sadly, till date has eluded him- you may expect a tiny bottle of Teachers' with the wedding card, along with a Haldiram Rs. 5 Alloo Bhujia for chakhna. Just one peg with chakhna. Drink one for Ramu after reading about his wedding, I say!
Suggestions at the proposal are welcome.
In any case, even though Rads isn't married yet, she has been put under the "done" category. All eyes are now on Ramu and when he will finally be trapped by the golden ring. So subconsciously, we tend to talk about what would happen in Ramu's wedding. So while bua said she liked the idea of chocolates with wedding cards, I thought it should reflect more of our personality.
So ladies and gentlemen, subject to Ramu finally learning the fine art of saving-which sadly, till date has eluded him- you may expect a tiny bottle of Teachers' with the wedding card, along with a Haldiram Rs. 5 Alloo Bhujia for chakhna. Just one peg with chakhna. Drink one for Ramu after reading about his wedding, I say!
Suggestions at the proposal are welcome.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
RADS ENGAGEMENT – POST SCRIPT
The photos are here, the angry relatives who were not invited have fumed themselves out of their displeasure and Rads’ mehendi has begun to fade. I can still not believe she is engaged. It comes as a surprise in little things. Like watching her talking over the phone with Vicky several times a day in the presence of family and realizing that her relationship is now, in a manner of speaking, legitimate. Which is strange for remaining 5, who are used to the “don’t tell mom” and the “if dad finds out someday” and the “keep it to yourself”. And her calling Vicky’s parents Mom and Dad.
I can clearly remember a fat girl in a uniform, standing under a tree, red with rage at having been kept waiting by the driver after school. Or the girl who threw a tantrum when her parents suggested she use her brother’s books from the previous year instead of buying new ones. It will take some getting used to this new Rads, who is a woman now.
I see her and I am astonished at how easily she has slipped into this new role. She talks about his habits now and quotes him in her conversations. She plans her wedding and discusses how she will build their home in Hyderabad once they are married.
Tomorrow is Rads’ first Karvachauth. She will pray with the married women of my house for her fiancé’s happiness and health.
She has left the 5 of us and has crossed gracefully over to the other side.
It will only be a matter of time before the others follow and this becomes easier to take in but until then and especially while she is here, I will have to consciously remember that my sister is a woman now.
I can clearly remember a fat girl in a uniform, standing under a tree, red with rage at having been kept waiting by the driver after school. Or the girl who threw a tantrum when her parents suggested she use her brother’s books from the previous year instead of buying new ones. It will take some getting used to this new Rads, who is a woman now.
I see her and I am astonished at how easily she has slipped into this new role. She talks about his habits now and quotes him in her conversations. She plans her wedding and discusses how she will build their home in Hyderabad once they are married.
Tomorrow is Rads’ first Karvachauth. She will pray with the married women of my house for her fiancé’s happiness and health.
She has left the 5 of us and has crossed gracefully over to the other side.
It will only be a matter of time before the others follow and this becomes easier to take in but until then and especially while she is here, I will have to consciously remember that my sister is a woman now.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
RADS ENGAGEMENT- 1
This blog fizzled out soon after I started writing it. More pressing issues diverted the parents’ attention from the task of getting their children married. But then things happened and so quickly that I am still sometimes caught off guard wondering if it is for real!
Rads got engaged. Engaged to be married. Whoa! Serious stuff! From the hazy past, here is my recollection of events-
Rads mentioned about this guy who works with her and next thing we know, Big P, Big mom and bua are headed to Gurgaon to meet Vicky’s family. They come back very happy, exact plan of action thereon not specified. Later, Vicky’s father comes to Dehradun to meet his younger son, who is an IMA cadet, and also to meet Rad’s parents on their home turf. That went very well, and both sides were still happy, exact plan of action thereon not specified. Still later, we learn that Rads and Vicky would come from Hyderabad in October for a few days, so something ought to be done to seal the deal, as it were- exact plan of action thereon STILL not specified. So for a couple of months all we knew was that Rads and Vicky were going to be engaged someday to be married even later. So we were all waiting for something concrete to happen.
Then it happened- all of it. Tumbling together down in a flood of events which are now a heap of distorted memories. I try to sort them out but it is all a jumbled, happy mess of a time. Rads reached Doon and Vicky reached Gurgaon- each with the other’s ring. After much debate and deliberation, October 12 was fixed as THE day. It had to be a roka ceremony only, at Big P’s place with about 15 guests from each side. It was an engagement ceremony at a wedding point near Big P’s house with about twice the number of guests originally decided upon.
Big P is Monica from Friends- an obsessive and fretful guy who has to do everything himself. It is a standard joke in the family, derived from a solid fact that Big P wakes up at 5 in the morning but has never reached work on time, since he must walk back and forth from one end of the house to the other about a hundred times picking up the paper, putting the clothes out to dry, collecting old newspapers, sunning the mattresses etc. So we were all quite clueless about what we were supposed to do. During family meetings, the conversation went as follows:
Somebody would keep reading off things that were to be done. For instance, “Milk badam for the guests as soon as they reach” or “Getting a fruit basket made for sagan” and so on and so forth. At the end of each sentence, Big P’s voice would come from an obscure corner of the room to say, “Uski chinta aap matt karna, wo main sambhal lunga.”
So by the end of it, we had to only prepare ourselves for the big day when we would be rushing around to complete the errands that poor Big P was, understandably unable to.
Sonu reached Doon on 3rd, Monu reached on 9th, Chachi’s birthday came and went on the 10th and all too soon, it was October 12.
Rads got engaged. Engaged to be married. Whoa! Serious stuff! From the hazy past, here is my recollection of events-
Rads mentioned about this guy who works with her and next thing we know, Big P, Big mom and bua are headed to Gurgaon to meet Vicky’s family. They come back very happy, exact plan of action thereon not specified. Later, Vicky’s father comes to Dehradun to meet his younger son, who is an IMA cadet, and also to meet Rad’s parents on their home turf. That went very well, and both sides were still happy, exact plan of action thereon not specified. Still later, we learn that Rads and Vicky would come from Hyderabad in October for a few days, so something ought to be done to seal the deal, as it were- exact plan of action thereon STILL not specified. So for a couple of months all we knew was that Rads and Vicky were going to be engaged someday to be married even later. So we were all waiting for something concrete to happen.
Then it happened- all of it. Tumbling together down in a flood of events which are now a heap of distorted memories. I try to sort them out but it is all a jumbled, happy mess of a time. Rads reached Doon and Vicky reached Gurgaon- each with the other’s ring. After much debate and deliberation, October 12 was fixed as THE day. It had to be a roka ceremony only, at Big P’s place with about 15 guests from each side. It was an engagement ceremony at a wedding point near Big P’s house with about twice the number of guests originally decided upon.
Big P is Monica from Friends- an obsessive and fretful guy who has to do everything himself. It is a standard joke in the family, derived from a solid fact that Big P wakes up at 5 in the morning but has never reached work on time, since he must walk back and forth from one end of the house to the other about a hundred times picking up the paper, putting the clothes out to dry, collecting old newspapers, sunning the mattresses etc. So we were all quite clueless about what we were supposed to do. During family meetings, the conversation went as follows:
Somebody would keep reading off things that were to be done. For instance, “Milk badam for the guests as soon as they reach” or “Getting a fruit basket made for sagan” and so on and so forth. At the end of each sentence, Big P’s voice would come from an obscure corner of the room to say, “Uski chinta aap matt karna, wo main sambhal lunga.”
So by the end of it, we had to only prepare ourselves for the big day when we would be rushing around to complete the errands that poor Big P was, understandably unable to.
Sonu reached Doon on 3rd, Monu reached on 9th, Chachi’s birthday came and went on the 10th and all too soon, it was October 12.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
I will search the roads and rails for a girl. Literally.
In the present times of struggle, distance and unhappiness, people are looking for reasons to celebrate. Especially the older generations who are not quite used to the empty-nest syndrome. Technology may be shrinking the world but at the end of the day, the average middle-aged couple finds itself alone in a house that until sometime back, was alive and kicking! And the average Punjabi middle-aged couple, with a working son or daughter has one sole aim in life- to find a suitable match for the kid. But here too, there is a pendulum of crazy that possesses the parents, which ranges from mild to affliction.
Ahuja, I believe, would swing right off the affliction end of the pendulum.
A few days back this man called on our home number and asked for "Kakkar sahab". Assuming he was somebody my uncle did business with, I said he was not at home and that I could take a message. I could never have guessed what was coming. I am quoting it all but will not translate the funniest bits from Hindi otherwise it won't be as hilarious.
Ahuja: Beta, I talked to Kakkar sahab about Monu a few months back. My son is a CA; package of rupees 7 lac per annum. Kakkar sahab had said that she is doing her M.Sc [haha] so I called to ask if he is ready now. Aap kaun ho beta?
My mind flashed back to when Monu had recently started her M.Sc. and was coming back home from college during a weekend. Now, if I were an imaginative author I would write about how Monu's eyes are large and have a calming effect on the other person and that her hair is thick and wavy and quite magical. But since I am not, I will say she is darned pretty and on that fateful day that was destined to be the cause of hysterical laughing in our household several times in future, she had opened her hair and was dozing off in the train. This is where Ahuja saw her! THE TRAIN! Remember the swinging off the pendulum of crazy?
So, Ahuja likes this dainty, sharif-looking pretty girl he sees and initiates a conversation with a drowsy but awake Monu. He asks her what she is doing, if she is headed home, her full name, what her father does etc. Now, years of academic excellence has thankfully, not instilled in Monu, the common sense to not speak with a stranger and dole out every detail about home and family. Her ears pricked suspiciously only when the buddha asks for her dad's number. She managed to get out of it and pretty much spent the rest of the journey hanging near the toilets.
But Ahuja had contacts and made a few calls to find out who we are and where we stay and called up Monu's dad one day, which is when the conversation that he told me about took place. Now a hysterical Monu had told me of the episode and did not believe me when I suggested it was probably about the buddha's son.
So reeling back to the present, the conversation continued hence:
Me [sniggering]: Uncle, I am Monu's older sister.
Ahuja: Acha, very nice. So beta what is Monu doing now? My son is doing really well at work, aap batao agar ab baat aage badhani hai to?
Me: Ummm... I don't know uncle, I will have her father talk to you.
Ahuja: Haan, lekin aap batao, aapko kya lagta hai?
[The man's insanity is clearly established and I decide to humour the poor fella]
Me: Uncle, we have brothers and a sister who are elder to us, hence I don't believe we are looking to marry Monu yet.
Ahuja: An elder sister, you say? What does she do?
Me: Uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: Acha, but what does she do?
Me: She is a software engineer. But Uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: S/W engineer? Excellent! My older son is also a S/W engineer based in California and working with Satyam. Which company is she working with?
Me: Uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: Acha, beta kaun si company? And where?
Me: Very audible sigh! She works for BLAH company and is in BLAH right now. Lekin uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: Aur bete, aapka bhai advocate hai?
Me: Ji Uncle.
Ahuja: What law is he practicing?
Me: Corporate. Works with BLAH in BLAH. Your son earns 7 per annum Uncle? My brother earns 9.5.
[A Punjabi will not leave any opportunity to brag]
Ahuja: Acha. Very good. Aap beta Monu se bade ho?
Me: Ji.
Ahuja: Aap kya karte ho?
Me: Uncle main 3 months baad 4 years ke liye Australia ja rahi hu.
Ahuja: Acha bete, to maine aapko apne dono sons ki details de di hain. Aap please apne Papa ko bataiyega aur aap sab bhi sochiyega. Ask him to call me back.
Me: Bilkul Uncle. Thank you.
Of course, Monu's leg is being pulled about the matter ever since, and I have been asked to repeat the entire conversation before the same people so many times now that it should no longer be funny but somehow still is.
For anybody outside of the family reading this, poor Ahuja needs 2 girls for his sons. If you want to know which train he may be spotted on, drop in a request here!
Ahuja, I believe, would swing right off the affliction end of the pendulum.
A few days back this man called on our home number and asked for "Kakkar sahab". Assuming he was somebody my uncle did business with, I said he was not at home and that I could take a message. I could never have guessed what was coming. I am quoting it all but will not translate the funniest bits from Hindi otherwise it won't be as hilarious.
Ahuja: Beta, I talked to Kakkar sahab about Monu a few months back. My son is a CA; package of rupees 7 lac per annum. Kakkar sahab had said that she is doing her M.Sc [haha] so I called to ask if he is ready now. Aap kaun ho beta?
My mind flashed back to when Monu had recently started her M.Sc. and was coming back home from college during a weekend. Now, if I were an imaginative author I would write about how Monu's eyes are large and have a calming effect on the other person and that her hair is thick and wavy and quite magical. But since I am not, I will say she is darned pretty and on that fateful day that was destined to be the cause of hysterical laughing in our household several times in future, she had opened her hair and was dozing off in the train. This is where Ahuja saw her! THE TRAIN! Remember the swinging off the pendulum of crazy?
So, Ahuja likes this dainty, sharif-looking pretty girl he sees and initiates a conversation with a drowsy but awake Monu. He asks her what she is doing, if she is headed home, her full name, what her father does etc. Now, years of academic excellence has thankfully, not instilled in Monu, the common sense to not speak with a stranger and dole out every detail about home and family. Her ears pricked suspiciously only when the buddha asks for her dad's number. She managed to get out of it and pretty much spent the rest of the journey hanging near the toilets.
But Ahuja had contacts and made a few calls to find out who we are and where we stay and called up Monu's dad one day, which is when the conversation that he told me about took place. Now a hysterical Monu had told me of the episode and did not believe me when I suggested it was probably about the buddha's son.
So reeling back to the present, the conversation continued hence:
Me [sniggering]: Uncle, I am Monu's older sister.
Ahuja: Acha, very nice. So beta what is Monu doing now? My son is doing really well at work, aap batao agar ab baat aage badhani hai to?
Me: Ummm... I don't know uncle, I will have her father talk to you.
Ahuja: Haan, lekin aap batao, aapko kya lagta hai?
[The man's insanity is clearly established and I decide to humour the poor fella]
Me: Uncle, we have brothers and a sister who are elder to us, hence I don't believe we are looking to marry Monu yet.
Ahuja: An elder sister, you say? What does she do?
Me: Uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: Acha, but what does she do?
Me: She is a software engineer. But Uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: S/W engineer? Excellent! My older son is also a S/W engineer based in California and working with Satyam. Which company is she working with?
Me: Uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: Acha, beta kaun si company? And where?
Me: Very audible sigh! She works for BLAH company and is in BLAH right now. Lekin uncle, uski shaadi fix ho chuki hai.
Ahuja: Aur bete, aapka bhai advocate hai?
Me: Ji Uncle.
Ahuja: What law is he practicing?
Me: Corporate. Works with BLAH in BLAH. Your son earns 7 per annum Uncle? My brother earns 9.5.
[A Punjabi will not leave any opportunity to brag]
Ahuja: Acha. Very good. Aap beta Monu se bade ho?
Me: Ji.
Ahuja: Aap kya karte ho?
Me: Uncle main 3 months baad 4 years ke liye Australia ja rahi hu.
Ahuja: Acha bete, to maine aapko apne dono sons ki details de di hain. Aap please apne Papa ko bataiyega aur aap sab bhi sochiyega. Ask him to call me back.
Me: Bilkul Uncle. Thank you.
Of course, Monu's leg is being pulled about the matter ever since, and I have been asked to repeat the entire conversation before the same people so many times now that it should no longer be funny but somehow still is.
For anybody outside of the family reading this, poor Ahuja needs 2 girls for his sons. If you want to know which train he may be spotted on, drop in a request here!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Pilot Post
We are 6 cousins, who have grown up together for the most part. SP at 26, is the oldest of the bunch. We were told that he was born to my uncle and aunt after several years of marriage had passed, in a time when it was not acceptable to society, headed by my Dadi (grandmother) to be married for more than 11 months and not have a baby. So after SP happened, heaven was flooded with thank you notes. And it may put me in trouble, but owing largely to his late arrival, he was pampered by his parents and the other 2 couples in the family as well (my parents and my other uncle and aunt)and hence has grown up into a slightly spoilt brat.
After SP, an annual childbirth-practice started in my family, that would have translated to hefty taxes had we been in China today. First in line of these successive births was my brother Ramu. Now, legend has it that Dadi was very pleased on having 2 grandsons and is rumoured to have said something to the order of "Mere kaar kudiyaan kaddi wi na ho sakdiyaan", which means that she only wanted sons for her sons. God was maybe listening at that unfortunate moment for the successive children were all girls.
Rads was born after a year of Ramu to SP's folks. There job was done and the spotlight turned on my parents who dutifully delivered ME the next year.
It was not a very happy time for the Dadi's youngest son and his wife (i.e. my uncle and aunt) when Monu came 1 year later. They were naturally elated on being parents but Dadi was adding 2 and 2 and maybe realizing there is more daughters than sons. And when the youngest came after a gap of 4 years and came as Sonu- a girl, Dadi was quite unhappy.
But it all turned OK after a while, which brings us to the present. The reason this post is soooo PINK is because it sits well with the Punjabi shaadi- flashy, loud and insane.
After SP, an annual childbirth-practice started in my family, that would have translated to hefty taxes had we been in China today. First in line of these successive births was my brother Ramu. Now, legend has it that Dadi was very pleased on having 2 grandsons and is rumoured to have said something to the order of "Mere kaar kudiyaan kaddi wi na ho sakdiyaan", which means that she only wanted sons for her sons. God was maybe listening at that unfortunate moment for the successive children were all girls.
Rads was born after a year of Ramu to SP's folks. There job was done and the spotlight turned on my parents who dutifully delivered ME the next year.
It was not a very happy time for the Dadi's youngest son and his wife (i.e. my uncle and aunt) when Monu came 1 year later. They were naturally elated on being parents but Dadi was adding 2 and 2 and maybe realizing there is more daughters than sons. And when the youngest came after a gap of 4 years and came as Sonu- a girl, Dadi was quite unhappy.
But it all turned OK after a while, which brings us to the present. The reason this post is soooo PINK is because it sits well with the Punjabi shaadi- flashy, loud and insane.
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