Marr-aiges

Two of my friends Deepti Deshpande (Now Deepti Suru) and Jayasimha Rachamalla (He gets to keep his name.. plus, this is too unique a name to change anyway) tied the knot last month (not with each other, my group ain't like the one in FRIENDS) and I wanna wish them good luck and the best fortunes ahead.. After all, fortune favors the brave.. Cheers!

I have always enjoyed attending wedding receptions. I don't know what it is about a wedding reception that fascinates me so much. Somewhere I think that this fascination stems from the fact that I am a Malayali
(not one of these pink lungi wearing ones.. but one nonetheless)



See, the thing is, as a mallu kid growing up, the only thing to look forward to in a mallu wedding is the reception (if it does happen). My mallu readers are at this point logging off coz they know what I'm gonna touch on.. PODAA.. may-ging funnof avar maar-ages! For my non mallu readers, here is the deal. For a long time, the mallu wedding function was known to be the quickest thing to wrap up; that is, until the Indian team landed in Zimbabwe.. now we are second best, and our pride is hurt... but i digress..

The mallu wedding is all about speed. No one cares to dance and sing, and the ones who do are chastised severely. No one wastes time wondering what colour looks good on whom. Cream colour for bride and for the groom. The groom wears a mundu (remember mundu?) so that in case he is late, he can fold it up and put in a serious sprint. The girl is almost buried in gold so that she can't change her mind and run away on seeing the groom with his mundu halfway up. The groom is not expected to wear a shirt either... buttoning up takes too much time... Also, since bhattjis take up too much time chanting shlokas, they are cut off the invite list.. I believe some wise mallu looking around for marraige pandal decorations had a flower of a coconut tree fall on him and decided to use it to grace the occasion and that is where the decorations were finalized. Of course, the abundance of coconut trees makes finding these flowers a piece of cake, keeping with the express nature of things. The band belt out slow numbers so that the guests don't go dizzy given the blurring pace, but speed up during the main functions to feed our "Need for Speed".

Oh yes, the pièce de résistance... You know how weddings have guy and girl walking around in circles (pheras) 7 times to get married? Well, we don't spend time with these saat phere. We have power-pheras which, the engineer in me tells me, is 233.33% more potent than the run of the mill pheras. So all we do is have 3 pheras with the guy leading. We mallus love our rice and people standing near the power phera taking couple throw some on them. I don't know the symbolic meaning, but if it means may God shower rice on you, I don't think that is a really nice blessing. How about throwing in some cash instead? Anyway, by this time, the aromas of the sambar and papadam invade the venue and the elders take turns in feeding the newly married couple banana in milk (Yuck!) so that the couple stay cheerful through whatever photo session there is to be. Here begins the longest (& most enjoyable I must add) part of the wedding - the sadhya (feast)..


I've cut out a number of small, nice things that happen in a mallu wedding... the bride being led in a procession of unmarried girls and other such stuff... That doesn't lend much to humour (although a lot of guy-readers are excited about the single babes), and if you wanna see it sooo bad, come over and watch my sis's wedding DVD.

Warming up...

On this trip to Kerala, I travelled second sleeper, and while that isn't generally a good thing given the funny smells in the tunnels, it is particularly good if you wanna meet some interesting characters, or if the people you are travelling with are deodorantly impaired, in which case you'd eargerly await the tunnel...

I reached the station quite early, and was in a different compartment than the rest of my group. The plan was to swap seats with some other passenger so that I could travel with my group. I was seated, looking out of the window, when this decent looking young chap - hair combed back with a generous portion of coconut oil, chandan tikka on his forehead and a token mustache (Token because it was a thin one... hard to spot against his dark skin) approached me..

"40... Aaa... here here... come" Then pointing... "Are you sitting saar?"

Looking around "Apparently.." hehe..
"Eh?"
"Yes, yes, I am sitting" Whats wrong with me?? "Er.. this is my seat..."
"Saar this is my anti sir.. She is in other side of the coach... Can you please eschange sir?"
Anti? Why is she anti?
"Er... OK... but is it a reserved berth?"
"Yes sir.. Completely reserved. See actually sir, she wants to sleep with me.. or any other man from the family begoz my uncle is not there... and she always sleeps with someone or the other when she travels..."
My eyes nearly popped out!!! You know you look at a person and can never say.... I am surely anti-her...

"Uh! I mean, yeah sure, I'll move.."


I promptly moved out. I didn't wanna risk her making her moves on me... A young, handsome, charming, intelligent and accessible (Mr. Potharaju, make your gal pals read this line 3 times over) guy on his way to scrub his paaps off... The berth i moved to happened to be a side berth, and sitting opposite me was a very earnest looking chap who had his back pack clutched tightly against his er... bosom.

"Hi.. I just moved here from 40" Pointing to the other end of the coach..
"Aa"

Now mallus know all about this "aa". Most south indians do in fact.
Northies, "aaaa'" is like a wild card. Other than its use as a filler, it could mean
1. Yes -  "aa" (very brief)
2. Ability to understand - "aa" (very brief, repeated with shaking of head like we'd say 'no')
3. Showing recognition -  "aaaa" (high pitch)
4. Showing circumspection -  "aaaa" (low pitch)

Silence....
"I aam into durbines disine.. Jusdai came faar interview"
"oh.. cleared it?"
"aaaa" (low pitch) "aa.. I think thaad should be ogay"
"Nice..."



Just then the pantry guy came over...
"Rise.. Lunge"
I was about to.. then stopped "No, my group has made arrangements for me.."
Mr. Durbine: "aa.. rice... saat mein zimble mein kya ae"
Sounds like hindi... Hard to tell...

"wet-a-bull?"
WET-A-BULL??? What the hells that?
I scanned my mallu vocab.. Vetta means cut... but bull? er.. should i ask him.. Naah, let Mr. Durbine here ask him...
"aa.. aa.. wet-a-bull baiya"
Baiya.. hehe...

10 mins of wondering, and almost asking Mr. Durbine what wet-a-bull was and the pantry guy comes over, gives the guy a vegetable - rice meal, and leaves...

I went looking for my group.. I soo needed to laugh..

O-numb! celebrations

My mom insisted i join her for the Onam celebration held here by one of the mallu associations. Now, I have almost never enjoyed them, coz they are the second most boring affairs, after
1. The meetings i attend on a daily basis and
2. Lux Perfect Bride..

And I sure wasn't planning to invest 4 hrs to hear out-of-tune singing, have an insipid lunch and return after having gone over my academic background, current occupation and answering the ever challenging "where.. ..in 5 yrs?" question, over 40 times... I declined. She asked again. I declined. She pulled out the heavy artillery with the emosanal atyachar "Can't you come along for my sake?" I declined, asking if she'd go front row for a rock concert, just for my sake... silence ensued....

But with Nano and all the sleepless nights mom has, taking care of her, i agreed.. Plus my i-call-her-aunt aunt and her niece (I went to watch my aunt.. not her niece, just to clarify!) were in a couple of traditional dances, which i did wanna see.. and she requested me to get it recorded. So, handy-cam in tow, i set out.. braving the prospect of yawning my jaws off, once the dances are done. The traditional dances are always nice, and the other performances are well, as much excitement as a Namibia - Bermuda cricket encounter held in Turkmenistan..

But boy! Was i wrong! The entire programme was awesome. There was tons of participation from the kids, and suddenly, the average age of a participant had plummeted from 65 to 15! The opening prayer was awesome, followed by excellent Kaikottikalli.. followed by an array of stunning fusion numbers, a drama, 2 classical dance renditions.. all ending in an awesome gala, which had even the senior-most grooving and jiving a-la Travolta.

The only part of the program that gave me that sinking feeling "uh oh.. back to ol' times" was when the chief guests landed on the dais. The chief guest list was as long as a voting list from a small town, and the emcee merely scanned the audience and invited more people on-stage. I ducked under his radar (not that i was running a risk, but who wants to take a chance!) and counted around 5 C.Gs on-stage..

5 minutes and the stage had some 10 senior mallus, a lawyer, a social worker, a journalist, a smiling firangi (from the Czech Consulate) who looked like he could bring down a building with a sneeze (6'6", maybe more and built like an army tank) and a bunch of guys running around with mics, all of them with a love for the mic that is touching to see. Most of the guys rattled off Malayalam that left the veterans scouring through their dictionaries, me scratching my head, the firangi still wearing the same smile, searching for a cue to begin clapping, and the rest of the people dazed. Enter the chiefest chief guest.. Some principal of some college.

30-something... And as he adjusted the mic and started to speak, some 5000 kms away.. in a graveyard  in Athens... Socrates' was beside himself in joy yelling "Theres 2 of us! Theres 2 of us!" I didn't quite get this reincarnates name.. so anyway, my man Sock-rats went on and on and on, while the audience shut their dictionaries, relaxed on their chair and started to snooze. His subject was about how technology had altered inter-personal relations and how nothing is permanent. Well, at that precise moment, his speaking did seem to be, and given the couple of mythological dramas I had just seen, I was praying hard for a Pralayam of sorts.. My ears were going numb from the onslaught, and i still cant feel them as i write this... Hmm.. thats strange, can we really not feel our ears or has he done some permanent damage?

When i was elbowed out of my slumber by mom 15 minutes later i heard him say "So to conclude..". All the senior mallus were looking for signs of lunch, the kids were curled up in a corner, fast asleep and the firangi was still wearing the same smile on his face coupled with a look of sheer determination as he fought away every yawn that creeped up on him. 10 minutes passed.. Some sections of the audience began clapping, and finally.. oh finally! he let go of the mic. I'm pretty sure some one in the audience brandished a knife or held out a gun or a rocked launcher or something! Slow-gun Murugun seemed to have saved the day! Mr. Vocal Diarrhoea wore the look of a kid who had been robbed off his candy, waved ta-ra and got back into his Neelkamal chair.

Hard to tell if the firangi was smiling thinking of this character he had encountered or whether it was the original smile. Ah darn, my long term memory sucks and I can't recall the original smile! But anyway, he nevertheless smiled..

The meals were just about OK.... but boy oh boy, what an entertaining day i'd had.. Nice dances.. a long nap and then some more awesome performances from the kids... This celebration is something i will look forward to next yr!

Yeh Swapna hi hain

My ni(e)ce was named yesterday.. We had a naming ceremony at my place, with all my relatives coming over. The aunts and uncles thronging to see the first in my family's third generation. I was busy running around arranging things, but would always steal some time to be be with Nano, who was really enjoying the attention she was getting. She had captivated her audience with her range of expressions, starting from the wide eyed gaze, which meant she was in a playful mood and was seeking out the right company, to her i've just crapped look, which meant, well, that she had... And Its always so amazing to hear adults near kids.. I dont know what it is about these tiny tots that makes ppl speak like they have some severe form of retardation. I mean you'd never hear an adult go, Hi, how do you do.. with a kid.. Its always alululululu and cho chweet and.. you get the idea.. Even old uncles, who have never been known to smile would be grinning and speaking in totla fashion that'd put Bawa caricatures to shame..

Now, for those not familiar with the mallu ways of things, mamas rule (yeah, thats me!) We are the ones who get to name the kid, to feed her her first food.. Basically if you are a mallu kid, better be good with your mama.. My sister was gung-ho about the name Swapna, and i liked it as well. She's named her Swapna after a close friend Swapna, whom she almost idolizes. So with mama's approval, the name was finalized, and i was excited at the prospect of being at the helm.. What i didn't realize was that where tradition had made me the take the 'Seat of Honour', it made me do so shirtless, and wearing a Mundu.. YIKES!! And wearing a trouser underneath just makes it look really awful.. So basically... When i was in the mundu, there wasn't a second line of defense, except at er.. at sensitive installations..


The ceremony was a simple one.. The bua puts on her ornaments.. I then take her name thrice in each ear after calling out Parvati into each ear first.. When i call out the name, my sister covers the other ear with a betel leaf, and once this is done, I announce the name to everyone else. Then i feed her some stuff mixed in milk.. more symbolically than anything else.. and after me, all the others take turns doing this, calling her by her name, all while i hold her.



Anyway, all this holding and shifting with my hands busy holding her had sent my confidence (about the mundu) for a walk, and standing up, all i could hope for was the mundu would stay out on my waist. The prospect of me doing a John-from-dostana was seeming increasingly imminent.. along with the ceremony ending up with an 'A' rating (Yeah, the entire thing was taped.. and my mundu was about to "go down in history") And there really is no comeback from ur mundu falling off.. Even the lil kid Swapna would have laughed her matchbox size ass off! Thankfully, the mundu didnt let me down..


Alls well that ends well!