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It was one of those moments that can not be captured with a still camera. Or for that matter with a motion camera. Afterall, every moment has its share of hormonal rush, its share of hidden feelings and unsaid words.

My marriage reception was coming to an end and Rekha’s family had decided to leave Malar Maligai (the venue for the three hour long function in Madurai).

I called Rekha’s father aside, held his sweaty right hand and said: “Uncle, do not worry. I will take good care of your daughter. And that is a promise.”

Even before I had finished, tears had rolled down his cheeks. He did not utter a single word…but conveyed a lot. Rekha would see her father break into tears and join the party…

Her father held my hand for what seemed like an eternity. Without a single word being said after my manly promise, he would get down from the stage and walk into the crowd.

I felt like a man for the first time in my life. He really loves her…and I knew those tears were not stage managed.

With a single well-rehersed sentence, I had managed to bring some peace to the man who has lost both his daughters to intelligent & smart bridegrooms (one of them being me ;-). Now, I only wish I can ful-fill my promise.

Next post will be from Kannur..where I will be spending three days before we head to Kumarakom for our honeymoon.

Rekha and I are married. At 11.45 a.m. on the 8th of Sept 2004 we were pronounced husband and wife.

Thirty two awe-struck friends and relatives from Tamil Nadu looked on even as my soon-to-be-relatives herded me into the Anna Poorneshwari temple at Kannur.

Am glad I was given five minutes to wear the ‘pattu’ dhotti in the bus. Later, I would come to know the people had started decorating Rekha as early as 9 a.m.. What disparity.

Once inside the temple, everybody was at my beck and call. A certain nobody lifted clear my dhoti whenever I steped into unknown waters, while a certain somebody was at hand to wipe my face every 15 seconds. Not that the temple was sultry – it had been raining for the last two days – I was tense.

A very beautiful Rekha was there waiting for my arrival. How times change, once man learns to accept things…life takes a beautiful turn.

The Kerala style wedding was completely a new experience. Here is something that stands out among the marriages in Madurai and Kannur…

Some 7-8 relatives of Rekha presented her gold rings…and I did not even know. They came to her house a few days before the marriage and put it on her finger in privacy. Only one uncle of mine presented me with a ring…and he ensured that all the photographers (3) and videographers (2) had snapped the moment for posterity before he let go of my finger.

It has been an amazing feeling thus far. I just hope…the honey moon lasts long. As of now…I can gladly take a bullet for Rekha. Will I ever go to Burma bazaar looking to buy a pistol? Only time will tell.

Some Trivia:
1) Pramod Kutty was the first from Chennai to wish me
2) From my team, Meera was first to wish me
3) I must have got some 4-5 congratulatory calls from office. Do I still need to throw a party for them?

Words once let out cannot be taken back. And here is a new way of putting it. Very stupid, I agree.

My first attempt at ‘advicing’ the world!

I have always thought I was a very creative person. Here is a test I gave myself. If I had 1 kg of grapes with me, what are the different uses I would put it to? Even as I write this, I have half a kg of seedless grapes that I could not finish after a dinner of chicken fried rice and a double omelet.

To find out what is the percentage of water content in each grape, I would put it under a real hot iron box.

– I could do impromptu collage on my bedroom wall by throwing them one by one..
– I could squish it under my thumb and find out if seedless grapes are really seedless.
– I would place them all on the floor and see if I roll a plate over it..just like the Egyptians rolled huge building blocks to make the Pyramids.
– I would try to place one above the other and see if I can set a Guinness record.
– I would put it in my washing machine (which I am yet to buy) and see if I can make some grape juice for myself. *I remember reading one article on how one innovative lassi wala uses his Whirlpool washing machine to cater to the fledging demand for his lassi.
– I could put it in water and stir it long enough to see if it is dissolvable in water.
– I could try inserting one it into the holes in a three-pin plug slot on my wall. If it is a small one, it just might go in.
– I could put a few of them among my clothes and see if grapes can replace the naphthalene balls that my mother still uses.
– I would stand in my balcony and throw them at the people passing by and when enquired will try convincing them that it IS raining grapes.

Agreed, it is crazy. But did not we always know that creativity more often than not borders on insanity. How else would you explain all those intelligent/smart yet insane people in advertising?

I was under the impression that only heat drives Chennaites crazy but looks like there are many more such influencers. Trade fairs, for example.

From Toyota Camry to a TVS 50, all were lined up at the entrance. The security guard was under the spotlight; that is until he brushed shoulders with self-confessed VIPs driving huge cars and wanting to be provided immediate entry.

The guard was a pathetic sight. The incidents that unfolded, pointed out that he was like the President of India – loads of powers, but no authority to use them on his own. There is certainly no fun in being ‘The Command Center` when nobody is listening; instead try to run you over.

The fact that The Hindu sponsored the fair, ensured it great publicity. Hordes were coming in and the only thing they did not bring with them was trekking gear. And once inside, a GPS device (Global Positioning system) would have also helped. I remember Rekha and I walking in circles…so much so, the shop-keepers started staring at us. They probably thought we were PWD Inspectors, keeping a watch on the proceedings.

And then, there was this one-dollar shop. A nice business technique, which unfortunately cannot be implemented in Indian conditions as you cannot have a ‘1 Rupee` shop. When I last bought something for 1 Rupee, it was sugar cane juice – four years back.

The shop had everything. Including shampoos and conditioners made for Middle East, which on nearing their expiry date had been dumped in India. I wonder why all those buyers never thought how a Rs 250 product could be given away for Rs 100. Common sense escaped them all. None of the 18 pretty girls I was keeping an eye on, looked for the expiry date which more often than not was not later than November 2004.

I wonder how I alone kept my head above my shoulders and came out of the shop after buying only one Rivolta boxers, one set of knives and one cute little pepper-salt dispenser. Guess, it has something to do with Rekha safekeeping my money for me.

I am glad we did not fall prey to this Trade mania. Also, Rs 4200 is a small price to pay for all the good fun that we had at the fair…like the ice-cream cone, the weighing machine, the masala papad, the salted ground nuts, not to mention those 18 girls I eyed for well over four hours…