My Girlfriend's Marriage

Background:- I almost spent my teenage in those old government colonies built in the outskirts of the city. My father worked with Indian Railways. I always wondered who designed Indian trains and such colonies probably the same guy as one could hardly differentiate such government quarters and train bogies. Those quarters included a vast coverage of bare land at the front of the house, which you're supposed to convert into a beautiful kitchen garden otherwise wild bushes would grow up and extensively be used by snakes and other dangerous reptiles to hide. In addition, the shared stairs with your neighbours to reach the gigantic roof from a huge common backyard were at the stake of privacy. The living space was hardly 20 % of the entire constellation. The toilet was of course outside the house. 

It was of no motivation to live there till I saw her first time. That day, my mother sent me to place wet Papads (home made Indian snacks) on the roof. You can't deny your mother for any nature of work at home because of her threat of complaining it to my already angry, tired and frustrated father from work every evening. 

I ascended the stairs holding those Papads as she was descending gently. I smiled and said "Hi" for which she replied with a cute smile. In today's times, it is just a great start, but for a small town boy from a hindi medium boy's school in 1995, it was too much to digest. I rushed to see her father's name plate to check which caste she comes from. She belonged to Brahmin (Priest) and I was Baniye (Business). Though I was hardly aware of the hierarchy of Indian caste system but it seemed to be not that difficult to arrange this marriage. That night I made a concrete plan of how to proceed further. The ultimate goal was to get married to her. 

Some Intermediate Explanation:- (Who thinks of marriage at the age of 16 ? You are right ! No one does now. But what else you expect from the times of 1995 in a small town ? You can't meet girls because you study in the government hindi medium schools and school administration either makes two separate shifts for boys and girls or if you are a bit lucky, the girls can study in your shift but definitely in a separate section. The younger girls in your neighbourhood call your Bhaiya (Brother) and you have to address Didi (Sister) to every elder girl you meet. Even then you get a girl, you can't date her because of CCE (Close Circuited Eyes) all around the town. There, everyone knows somebody who knows someone in your family. This chain can spread anything. Difficult times ! ) 

Next day, I returned from the school and saw her entering my house with a fat woman. I hesitated to step ahead. It took me 15 minutes to enter my own house. 

"Son, she is Sharma aunty and her daughter Neha. They are our first neighbours. Neha didi is studying in BA I year." My mother introduced. 

Oh damn ! Neha didi ? Why should I call her didi ? Why did I enter my house that day ? I cursed Indian pledge that says "All Indians are my brothers and sisters, though I never uttered that line in my entire life. I decided not to call her didi. 

There was no sign of hope till she came to me and asked " Which class do you study?" 

Was it real ? Was she talking to me ? I replied " Class XI, Science Maths". I was overexcited hence over-answered. She smiled and left. 

In the next months, we exchanged some more smiles and short messages. Thanks to 1980's hindi movies that enlightened us with an idea of hiding messages in the books and exchanging books were no crime. I even exchanged a rose on her birthday. In return gift, I expected her to say "I love you". 

With her continuous denials and my constant efforts, she agreed to say "I love you". But the question was where to say it ? I had an idea. It was a fool proof plan. 

I sent a message " You have to give single tone missed call on our landline phone when there is no one around at your home. If I send back the same single tone missed call, it's safe to call me." 

We were not privileged with mobile phones. 

After consistent trials, we managed to get a green zone. Her mother was sitting with my mother in our common backyard. 

She rang and said "I love you. Now happy ?" She hung up the phone. 

I was on top of the world. My mother called me and asked " Whose phone was that ?" 

I replied anxiously " It was a blank call" 

My mother annoyingly said to Neha's mother " Bhabhiji, we are getting too much blank calls these days." 

Her mother agreed " Hmmm. We too bhabhiji." 

Both cursed the blank callers and BSNL. I escaped the place.

It took me another several months to convince her to kiss me. She sent a message " You meant on hand na ?" 

I replied "Kisses are always on lips. Understood ?" 

My father got a transfer letter few days later.

I directed her "If you love me, you have to kiss me before I leave the city. Otherwise this love story ends now." 

She agreed after several refusals. It was the night before we planned to leave the city with our stuff. I kissed her on the common roof. With tears in her eyes, she left immediately. My lips, tongue and throat got dried. My heart started beating beyond the danger zone. I was called downstairs. I wasn't in my control. We left.

3 years later .........................

We received her wedding card. Neha weds Banwari Lal Sharma. Though my parents ignored the invitation, I was determined to attend the wedding. I reached there. Our eyes met. She ignored. 

Her uncle asked me " Son, your parents didn't come ? But it's good you are here to attend your sister's marriage. Now you have to work a lot in next two days." 

I passed a fake smile showing my disagreeing agreement. 

He continued " Son, could you arrange the chairs first and then serve Thandai  (Indian beverage) to Baraatis (Groom's family) and most importantly to your jiyaji. They are staying in the guest house." 

I agreed with a fake smile. I met the groom and cursed Neha's decision to marry a fat guy. 

I worked like a wedding sister's brother. It was a general impression among Baraatis that I was among the main brothers of the bride. That's the reason I skipped the Fera Rasm (Important Ritual of Indian marriage), because they would have forced  me to pursue Kanyadaan (Important Ritual of Fera Rasm which brother of the bride performs) of my first love. It would have been too much.

I wished her good luck and left.  

I never dared to visit her later in life. Probably if I had visited her, her kids would have called me "Mama"(Maternal Uncle). I couldn't have handled it. 

  

   

 

     

She is from Delhi

The first day in college might sound exciting for others but I was nervous for known reasons. More than a fear of being ragged by the seniors, I was quite anxious about giving self-introduction in English during the orientation session of the new batch. Being a throughout Hindi medium scholar and yet to be called upon the stage at 2nd place, because of my name (Aaditya), were quite the reasons of being highly strung. I cursed my grandfather of giving that name to me.

It was a hot day of July. I wore a formal shirt, pants and polished shoes (Probably the first time I polished my shoes.)  I had to change 3 city buses to get there. I was sweating like hell. Being nervous, profusely sweated and worn formal outfits easily classified me as a I year undergraduate. This caught the attention of a group of 3 boys in the last city bus of the journey.
One of them shouted " Oye, idhar aa (Hey, come here) ! I year ? "
I stammered " Yeee....s"

The threesome enjoyed their success of making me more nervous by their senior undergraduate status.
The second boy shouted "Sight your eyes at the third button of the shirt. Chal intro de ab ! (Give your Introduction)"
They altered my introduction, which I mugged up for the orientation session, several times. It took me 30 minutes to get introduced as per their version. I was relieved at the end.

I rushed to the entrance of the auditorium but was stopped and scolded by a very tall person." You are late even on the first day of the college." He taunted.
I responded " I am extremely sorry sir, my bus was late." I somehow made the most general excuse.
He whispered " Burdens on Society" and passed a very bad look to me while I was entering the fully packed auditorium.

Though I was late, my seat at the 2nd position of the first row was reserved. I thanked my grandfather. The flower bouquets were being exchanged at the stage while I was taking my seat. My neighboring fellows passed "Good for Nothing" looks to me in exchange of my smile.

Just after the boring speech of a non-understandable old person sitting on the podium, a girl took over the mike and started addressing us.
She looked very beautiful in a pink saree. Her straight hair elegantly outlined her shining face. I couldn't sense anyone's presence except her. I was totally lost in her. It was my first love at first sight. It seemed like she was calling me to her.

Then somebody shook me " Bro, your name is being called at the stage"

I quickly got back to the reality and rushed to the dais. I spoke into the mike. I mixed my mugged up version with the one imposed by the seniors. Somehow I finished it but very imperfectly.

Later that day, I met one of my school-mate, namely Paresh, who also got admission in the college.
" Bro, I guess I am in love" I shared my recently developed emotions.
" Yaar, tu toh killer nikla. Pehle din hi setting kar li." (Hard to translate this overexcited expression) 
"Nah bro ! It was love at first sight. You remember that girl speaking at the podium ?" I demystified the secret.

He furiously responded " Are you crazy or what ? She is from Delhi. You are from Jalore, not known small town of Rajasthan. Her father is a CEO of MNC and yours a clerk in Marudhara Rajasthan Gramin Bank. Did you listen to her speaking fluent English that too in English Accent ?  I heard your introduction, you could hardly complete a sentence. She is in II year. I heard that almost every boy of her batch having the same status tried on her. Love at first sight !" After the descriptive analogy, he passed "You are an Idiot" look to me.

But I refused to give up. "I agree the differences but I secured top 100 Rank in State Engineering Entrance Exams and the college discounted 25% of the fees. Can't my good academic background attract her ?"     
"What ! 25 % discount ? You know, she paid 250 times of the fees as donation. It doesn't matter for her. " He discarded my positive point. "Anyway how do you come to college ? How much is your pocket money ?"He asked these questions, which according to him preliminary to even think of approaching her. 

"I come by city bus. I get 500 Rs out of which 300 I spent to buy the monthly city pass, so technically I have only 200 Rs as spare money." I honestly answered.

He again lost his temper "Man, you are totally crazy. 200 Rs is her daily canteen expenditures. You can't afford her. We small town boys never get girlfriends in the college. We never fulfill 1%  of the criteria.We are destined to do arrange marriage."

Then a boy, namely Rishi, from the same town interrupted us "Hey Paresh, what are you guys talking about ? "
Paresh made fun of me " Bhai ko pyaar ho gaya hain (He is in love) !"
Rishi curiously asked "Who?"
"Sonali, II year" Paresh fired the one liner.
" Bro, it's not your mistake. Almost half of the college love her. But we can't deserve her. She is from Delhi and you know what I mean."
 Paresh interrupted " Yeah, I explained him"
Rishi continued " Good. I have also heard that she does already have a boyfriend. He usually comes here over the weekend with his luxurious BMW car and they disappear for 2 days." Rishi enlightened us.

My first love story ended within 24 hours.

Disclaimer: "She is from Delhi" is used as a phrase to define the social (status) gap of a boy and girl. You know what I mean :P