The Sweet Anticipation of Wedding Bells

Our Satyam Days, part XVIII

During those days, as we attended numerous wedding functions of our Satyam colleagues who regularly got hitched first and fell headlong into holy matrimony, a couple of associates curiously inquired about our matrimonial prospects, addressing both of us, "When are you guys getting married?"

Of course, I didn't blush. On the contrary, I would have blushed anyway, no problem, before coming up with an appropriate answer to that personal yet interesting question about my relationship status! Blushing is helpful; even "blushing the blush," self-consciously blush-blushing, causing one side of your cheeks to turn kinky and the other pinky! Kinky and Pinky!

I once articulated something laborious, as is sometimes my way, and that also slightly more colloquially than anyone would have cared: No Antony will do for his Cleopatra, no Romeo for his Juliet, and yet no Othello would do for his Desdemona, or so I had believed, perhaps a little too superiorly than required for just the simple task of replying to a straightforward question someone had the undue gumption (just kidding) to enquire about whether I am a potential future matrimonial aspirant! As my close smart-alecky Satyam colleague, Mandeep would have wanted to phrase it, his face screwing up slightly, smile askew: "My Big Fat Hyderabadi Wedding." He said those words. And that means something's up! So it's going to be very soon.

Instead, I remarked meekly: short-shifting apologetically, withdrawing into a shell, retreating like a whispered secret, and so on, as is sometimes my style, "We are budgeting right now, ensuring we save enough for my impending doom!" That's not precisely, I admit, a response worthy of a standing ovation (Oh, what high thinking!) as far as the department of eloquence or the gift of the gab is concerned! Duh!

Fortunately, he laughed at that reply while I pondered something wittier to say but cheerfully offered this line instead: "Soon! Very soon. You'll receive my invitation!"

And that was that.

Once Ann Mary R. or Mary Ann (or vice versa), better understood as GG's protégé, a deeply enchanted Chocophile with an uncannily profound attachment to imported chocolates and candies that GG brought for her unfailingly from his quite a few trips abroad, decided to stop by our cubicle. She often did so whenever she could.

Mandeep immediately perked up to say, "Aur Mary Ann? Roz ario!?" (So, Mary Ann, are you coming daily [to the office]?) She laughed for a full five minutes—I mean, she laughed like she had never laughed before, thinking about what had gotten into Mandeep to say it in such a funny way! That was really so hilarious! 'Roz-Ario' was her surname, and Mandeep took that apart to ask her if she was coming daily or 'daily coming' (that is, to the office)! Yeah.

After sharing a hearty laugh, she lingered for several minutes around the cubicle, then turned to Mandeep and teasingly asked, "So, Mandeep, when are you getting married? When's the big day?"

Mandeep had a witty repartee ready and replied, "You are asking me? How flattering!" He then added, "Any day now! Yeah."

Ann Mary giggled and then laughed again before turning to me with a curious expression. "What about you, Arindam? When can we expect to hear about your wedding plans?"

I responded jovially, "Nice try, Ann," then added, "You're invited, regardless of whether GG attends!" She continued to giggle and laugh out loud, as she often does.

Before Ann Mary R. returned to her front office desk, I asked her when she was getting married, was it sooner or later? She responded with a facial expression that conveyed the evasiveness erupting like a deep sigh through the looming life-long odyssey of being in wedded bliss, rough sleep, drawn to the kitchen whipping up... err... preparing meals of bread toast, jam, and mutton pies, fruit custard and plum cakes, and finally, giddying implication: a teasing suggestion that it would happen shortly. Mandeep and I understood what she was ultimately trying to convey!

Before the year was out, she married her long-time beau, who, we thought, must have kept up a doubly good vigil on her right from the first day these two became serious as a couple. Her beau often came to the office to check in on her, as did her mother once. She and her beau had everything planned from the start: they were betrothed and had it all set for the impending nuptials, leading to the sweet anticipation of their wedding bells arriving sooner rather than later. Better now than later?

+*+*+*+

To this end of the discussion, I would assert that Devi was spared from a personal investigation because he was already happily married and had two school-going kids, while Suresh, although on the verge of, as we often use the phrase: 'to tie the knot,' marrying for reasons not so incomprehensible to Mandeep and me as of that date in time, remained single yet.

The phrase I once used, "impending doom," must have sounded very ominous to Suresh, even as he recently took into consideration his going in for the long haul, such as committing to the idea of marriage and whatever comes after that: destroying your bachelorhood, for instance! Has it not been so? Never mind that. I was only joking, whether funny or not!

Enquiry over, she headed back to her reception desk.

(To be continued…)

By Arindam Moulick