This blog makes me sick. Literally. See, being a naturally good listener and having been naturally blessed with an enormous mouth, I have always had problem with that category of information we call "secret". And the trouble with this blog is that it is a perfect platform to rat on every poor family member who cannot keep a secret but expects me to keep it.
Really! I do sometimes question the family system.
Anyhue, there are swirls of gossip happening all around and I am perpetually bent over clutching my stomach and popping Pudin Hara like they were THOSE pills because I MUST KEEP THESE SECRETS and I do want to blurt them all out here! Oh the agony!
But I am comforted by the belief that the secrets will reveal themselves, as they always do when they are secrets of Punjabis. In fact, had Dan Brown chosen to set his Da vinci Code among us folks, it would have been quite an epic fail. Can you imagine a secret preserved over hundreds of years here, in a Punjabi community? Hilarious, the notion!
So back to what we were discussing earlier. There are many plans happening but I cannot talk about these either because they would spoil the celebrations and will leave me with nothing to write about, when the actual wedding happens.
For the sake of posting something I will tell you of three shiny new developments.
The first, is an almost-new, second-hand refrigerator that Chachi procured from one of Buaji's tenants who recently moved out of the latter's house. As the guests start arriving, it will be useful. For now, Chacha is on cloud 9 because he has his own dairy-storage refrigerator and in his own room too! What joy!
We also have a sweet 21-year old girl who helps with the household chores and stays at home all day and she is shiny new development #2. Sonu has already found a way to wrap Seema Didi around her little finger. "Seema Didi, आप कितनी अच्छी चाय बनाते हैं. मैंने मम्मी को कल बताया था. बोहोत ही अच्छी. अपनी हाथ की चाय पीने का मन ही नहीं करता." And lo behold! There is a steaming cup of चाय for Sonu delivered in bed. Crafty little lass! But otherwise, Seema seems well-entertained with our antics and is most eager to meet the entire madhouse that is our family when they arrive for the wedding. Call it a premonition but something tells me she won't be so happy when they are here and somebody or the other is demanding चाय every fifteen minutes. See Sonu's habit is nothing that does not run like a disease in the family.
Development #3! Shiny clothes, new clothes, पटियाला सलवार in beautiful prints and mesmerizing कुर्ती to go with it, sarees to be dyed and glamorized with glittering गोटा borders, visits and some more to the tailor's and continuous chit chat over the phone between our bride and her mother about this blouse and that design, this कुर्ती and that dupatta is all very festive!
The reason I mentioned these three seemingly small developments here is because they have, in a strange way made me realize that the wedding is here and I will have another sister married, soon. It is a warm, fuzzy and freakishly scary feeling all at the same time that automatically brings a smile to the face and a glint to the eye. Not the teary kind of glint, though not for lack of trying. After all, I will be expected to cry at the बिदाई and I have no idea how I am going to do that. Having already pulled the "turn away so that everybody thinks you are crying but are too proud to show your tears" trick at Radha's बिदाई, I am quite in the proverbial soup. I could do the same again except that with four more wretched siblings in tow looking to getting hitched, somebody's bound to notice the absence of tears in my arid eyes sooner or later.
Suggestions on this front are welcome. And no, thinking about Himesh Reshamiya movies does not work. :/
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Live from Field!
I am reporting live from the field of action where the pace of things has increased considerably since when I left, which is no surprise considering it is now just a little under two and half months to the wedding.
Shopping is on at full-swing, just as the tailors’ machines are. Chachi has hired a sweet young lady to look after the household chores full-time so that she can now do the running around at any time without worrying about our enormous appetites and incessant demand for food, which is a serious rodha when you have a wedding to organize.
It is Monu’s wedding and she wants her clothes to be perfect. Every stitch, every design, every outfit, very colour must be absolutely flawless. The lehenga and the suits are brought out every day and are shown to anybody foolish enough to venture into the house. There are lengthy and often repetitive discussions of how the dupatta should be contrast and must be sent back because it is not heavy enough yet and a thousand such complaints every day. It is Monu’s wedding and when I say “she” afterwards, I am not talking about Monu but our little devil Sonu.
The bride’s lehenga is not done yet and there are considerable gaps in her wedding trousseau but Sonu has been diligently working on her wedding wardrobe since before the rishta was fixed. I exaggerate not; there are outfits starting from when Sonu will board the train to Dehradun from Delhi right up to the one she will wear after she has finished crying at Monu’s bidai. In between, there are clearly marked outfits for after she wakes up but before she gets ready for a function, one for the function and even outfits for after the function when everybody gathers around to gossip and bitch. The last outfit is separate from the night suit.
When I was in Ranchi, Mom and I once started looking up her “loot”. Every Punjabi woman has a stack of sarees, suit-pieces, stitched suits and accessories stashed somewhere and these are over and above her regular wardrobe, including her regular party wear. The stash is accessible to daughters, sisters and anybody else the owner of the stash deems fit. So I was going through my mom’s stash and I found a nice, glittery pink and gold suit-piece that made me go “ooooh”. So I picked it up and lo-behold my wedding woes were wondrously resolved.
But when I reached Doon and proudly displayed the suit-piece to Chachi and Sonu, the latter started shrieking inaudibly because her pitch was so shrill that she had gone ultrasonic (ok I picked that one up from Friends). Turns out, the texture of the piece is similar to one of her outfits for the wedding. And the colour too. Let me elaborate. By similar she means “in the family of pink”. Her’s is magenta and mine is not quite magenta and not quite pink. So somewhere in between, but still miles from magenta. And then I broke the news that I intended to get the piece stitched in the Nehru-coat style that is “very in” these days and I now admit this was a bad bad move because it led to some very audible wailing. See Sonu’s suit is also in the same style and I suspect she tried to patent the design.
The episode was extremely distressing and I fear such madness will only increase in frequency over the coming months. Adieu, sanity. :/
Shopping is on at full-swing, just as the tailors’ machines are. Chachi has hired a sweet young lady to look after the household chores full-time so that she can now do the running around at any time without worrying about our enormous appetites and incessant demand for food, which is a serious rodha when you have a wedding to organize.
It is Monu’s wedding and she wants her clothes to be perfect. Every stitch, every design, every outfit, very colour must be absolutely flawless. The lehenga and the suits are brought out every day and are shown to anybody foolish enough to venture into the house. There are lengthy and often repetitive discussions of how the dupatta should be contrast and must be sent back because it is not heavy enough yet and a thousand such complaints every day. It is Monu’s wedding and when I say “she” afterwards, I am not talking about Monu but our little devil Sonu.
The bride’s lehenga is not done yet and there are considerable gaps in her wedding trousseau but Sonu has been diligently working on her wedding wardrobe since before the rishta was fixed. I exaggerate not; there are outfits starting from when Sonu will board the train to Dehradun from Delhi right up to the one she will wear after she has finished crying at Monu’s bidai. In between, there are clearly marked outfits for after she wakes up but before she gets ready for a function, one for the function and even outfits for after the function when everybody gathers around to gossip and bitch. The last outfit is separate from the night suit.
When I was in Ranchi, Mom and I once started looking up her “loot”. Every Punjabi woman has a stack of sarees, suit-pieces, stitched suits and accessories stashed somewhere and these are over and above her regular wardrobe, including her regular party wear. The stash is accessible to daughters, sisters and anybody else the owner of the stash deems fit. So I was going through my mom’s stash and I found a nice, glittery pink and gold suit-piece that made me go “ooooh”. So I picked it up and lo-behold my wedding woes were wondrously resolved.
But when I reached Doon and proudly displayed the suit-piece to Chachi and Sonu, the latter started shrieking inaudibly because her pitch was so shrill that she had gone ultrasonic (ok I picked that one up from Friends). Turns out, the texture of the piece is similar to one of her outfits for the wedding. And the colour too. Let me elaborate. By similar she means “in the family of pink”. Her’s is magenta and mine is not quite magenta and not quite pink. So somewhere in between, but still miles from magenta. And then I broke the news that I intended to get the piece stitched in the Nehru-coat style that is “very in” these days and I now admit this was a bad bad move because it led to some very audible wailing. See Sonu’s suit is also in the same style and I suspect she tried to patent the design.
The episode was extremely distressing and I fear such madness will only increase in frequency over the coming months. Adieu, sanity. :/
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Lesser-known Pubjabi phrases
Now I had not intended to update the blog this week and this post is yet another example of how I never follow through my plans. Anyhue, the world probably knows our words "खोता" and "वेला". Then, with our Punjabi and Jaat boys running all over north India in their bling-bling cars and their ढिंगचक music; not to mention that God-awful song (not really, I quite love it), the words "Amplifier" and "Woofer" too have become universally-known Punjabi words.
But besides that, Punjabi is a fascinating language that is inherently so offensive that you do not really wonder about the sarcasm of Punjabis when you know more of it. Here compilation of some lesser known and absurd Punjabi phrases and quotes:
1. रब्बे दी धुन्नी : Literally, the Navel of God. I know!!! You would ever say that, right? Except that Punjabis do. The phrase is used to describe a location or address that is very difficult to reach; a remote location.
Example: मैं उस्सा कद्दों मिलां, उस दा घार ते रब्बे दी धुन्नी विच है!
Or एथे रब्बे दी धुन्नी विच network कित्थों आसी!
2. चूल्हे दी छाई: Literally, residue ash from the stove. It used to convey a sentiment similar to one relayed by the English phrases "nonsense" or "what rot" or "bullshit"
Example:
Me: मैं कल से exercise शुरू करुँगी.
Chacha: चूल्हे दी छाई!
Note: The phrase चूल्हे दी छाई! is often also used as "छाई चूल्हे दी!" to the same effect.
Example:
Chacha: मैं कल सुबह आठ बजे उठ जाऊंगा
Me: छाई चूल्हे दी!
3. मैदे दी फूसी: Literally, the fart after eating something made of refined (rice) flour. Unbelievable, right? This phrase is used for the act of bragging.
Example: मैदे दी फूसियाँ ना मारो, कुछ कम् करो.
Or उस्सा इक्क कम् दित्ता मैं, अद्धा घंटा मैदे दी फूसियाँ मारदा रहा ते कम् वी नहीं कर के दित्ता.
4. Finally, there is a Punjabi phrase that I am quite fond of:
फिट पैड़े दी अकल गयी
मंज वेच के खोती लेई
दुध पीने तो गया
लित्त चानी पेयी
The word फिट means curdled milk and पैडा means a useless kinda guy. So when translated, this phrase means:
A useless man lost his mind
And sold his buffalo (मंज) to buy a mule (खोती)
So he lost out on the milk that he would get to drink from the buffalo
And instead, had to clean the mule's shit (लित्त) all day for naught.
There is a final phrase that I have been trying to trace the literal meaning of. It is difficult to type as well. त्रटी चोर is used for a person who is unfair or dishonest but I do not know yet, what the word त्रटी means. Buaji does not know, chacha does not know, my dad does not know and the other buaji also does not know. This phrase was used frequently by Dadi and I shall post what it means as soon as I find out.
But besides that, Punjabi is a fascinating language that is inherently so offensive that you do not really wonder about the sarcasm of Punjabis when you know more of it. Here compilation of some lesser known and absurd Punjabi phrases and quotes:
1. रब्बे दी धुन्नी : Literally, the Navel of God. I know!!! You would ever say that, right? Except that Punjabis do. The phrase is used to describe a location or address that is very difficult to reach; a remote location.
Example: मैं उस्सा कद्दों मिलां, उस दा घार ते रब्बे दी धुन्नी विच है!
Or एथे रब्बे दी धुन्नी विच network कित्थों आसी!
2. चूल्हे दी छाई: Literally, residue ash from the stove. It used to convey a sentiment similar to one relayed by the English phrases "nonsense" or "what rot" or "bullshit"
Example:
Me: मैं कल से exercise शुरू करुँगी.
Chacha: चूल्हे दी छाई!
Note: The phrase चूल्हे दी छाई! is often also used as "छाई चूल्हे दी!" to the same effect.
Example:
Chacha: मैं कल सुबह आठ बजे उठ जाऊंगा
Me: छाई चूल्हे दी!
3. मैदे दी फूसी: Literally, the fart after eating something made of refined (rice) flour. Unbelievable, right? This phrase is used for the act of bragging.
Example: मैदे दी फूसियाँ ना मारो, कुछ कम् करो.
Or उस्सा इक्क कम् दित्ता मैं, अद्धा घंटा मैदे दी फूसियाँ मारदा रहा ते कम् वी नहीं कर के दित्ता.
4. Finally, there is a Punjabi phrase that I am quite fond of:
फिट पैड़े दी अकल गयी
मंज वेच के खोती लेई
दुध पीने तो गया
लित्त चानी पेयी
The word फिट means curdled milk and पैडा means a useless kinda guy. So when translated, this phrase means:
A useless man lost his mind
And sold his buffalo (मंज) to buy a mule (खोती)
So he lost out on the milk that he would get to drink from the buffalo
And instead, had to clean the mule's shit (लित्त) all day for naught.
There is a final phrase that I have been trying to trace the literal meaning of. It is difficult to type as well. त्रटी चोर is used for a person who is unfair or dishonest but I do not know yet, what the word त्रटी means. Buaji does not know, chacha does not know, my dad does not know and the other buaji also does not know. This phrase was used frequently by Dadi and I shall post what it means as soon as I find out.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
An extremely self-obsessed post
I often crib about how this blog is very limited in terms of scope of the subject. So tonight I figured let me change that and not write about weddings. Actually this post could also be about wedding among other things. See, writing about our social customs and way of living and making fun of it, is all well and good but all this while what I have really been trying to do is find out why. Why do we live the way we do? Why do we follow this path of school-college-job-marriage-kids-and-some-more? And I do not mean to accept answers like that is how it is or because we need somebody to make our lives meaningful. Something real. Something with sense. Something that will make me go "Oh, like that. Hmmm". :\
The only way I have lived my life is outside of the systems and the fed-up parent says every now and then that I need to pull up my socks, face life as it really is and jump into the fray. This is when I ask, "But why?" And I don't understand the reasons given to me. Why do you work, for instance? To do things that you like to do. Well, how do you decide what it is that you like when you are holding a degree in something that you have spent considerably money obtaining, and in which you enrolled because you happened to have the marks for it. Maybe you thought you wanted to become somebody but how do you decide it? If you are brought up being told that once you cross a certain age, you do inevitably get married, where is your choice in the matter save for maybe the choice of who you marry? If you are brought up in a certain environment where you are exposed to things of comfort to the extent that your dependency on them makes it impossible for you to explore a lifestyle without these comforts, what choice of a lifestyle do you really have?
But constantly questioning everything without a clue to the answer has its cons too. Invariably you end up questioning yourself. So maybe I am not supposed to do anything big and great that I often dream I will do. Maybe I am meant to keep looking for answers. Hell maybe I am not a third of the substance and talent that I imagine I have. Maybe it is all a farce and without the focus and faith in the way we live in this society and world, the few genuine talents that I may have will be flushed down some useless path or another. Who knows. Who is to say. But the thing is, I look around me and I see people who were in the same state of confusion have figured it all out. Almost. They are on their way to defining or have already defined who they are. Some have made their own paths to do what they are truly passionate about while others have exchanged passion for a nice, fat paycheck but it all boils down to the fact that they believe in something. I find myself still stuck at that same place as I was as a teenager where I am still trying to see some sense in the world. Not good!
Anyhue, the world will reveal itself to me when it will. In the meantime, I have an announcement to make. In two weeks, I return to Dehradun at the heart of the wedding venue to report live from the field, so as to speak. I shall give all updates about the shopping, decorations, preparations, discussions and so forth in the final trimester before the wedding. So until then, I shall take a breather and not blog until the next week. Unless of course I get really bored and then the only thing left to do is sit and write. Until the next time then! :)
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