Ready. Get Set. View!

Bird watching, whale watching, solar eclipse viewing, tv viewing and bride-viewing. Ugh.
Bride-viewing. Ugh.

Honestly though, I never really had a problem with the whole process. I thought it was something that everyone just has to go through and it was rather fun when my sisters had to do it. But seriously.. bride-viewing.. ugh..I'm sorry everytime I say the word it makes me wanna say ugh cos it is...just UGH!

Viewing it seems. Like a bride.. is a view.. and why is it bride viewing? The bride "views" the groom too! Why not groom-viewing? Ugh. Ok maybe it the viewing bit that gets to me. Viewing. Yeesh... I just checked the thesaurus to see if there is a better term... apparently it could only get a lot worse. It could be bride-observation or bride-scrutiny or bride-analysis (You gotta admit this one sounds kinda cool though) or bride-inspection. 

Yuck. No matter what you call it, the whole damn process will remain as yucky as ever. For those who are not familiar with the grand process, you could either google it... or I could just tell you since you've been kind enough to read bout it this far without having a clue what I'm talking bout. Bride viewing is when a random guy's mum n dad decides to meet up with a random girl's mom n dad for tea or whateva and talk to each other for say half hour and let the random guy and girl talk for maybe 10 minutes as a result of which they are expected to fall head over heels in love with each other and want to marry each other immediately. 

But the guy falling in love with the girl will be unaccounted for if the mom and dad does not fall in love with the girl first, based on her looks, the number of ornaments she is (read - been forced to) wearing, her posture, her voice, her teeth, her skin colour, her size (now I could be referring to any size..including shoe size), the way she ties her hair, if she's smudged her kohl, the way she makes small talk and the way she smiles and smiles until her cheeks fall off. After which the guy's mom n dad has to fall in love with the girl's mom and dad. And the house. And the furniture. And the car.  And the servant. And more. You would sooo not have found a defnition this apt if you had googled. :-)

So anyways, I kinda thought that it was gonna be fun. I mean if you think of it, you get to check out a random guy head to toe without even having to step out of the house and with your parents permission. How bizzare is that!?

Except the closer you get to actually experiencing it, the more you realise that this is a bad bad idea.
The first guy who came to see me... well I didnt even give the poor guy a chance. I told my dad that I don't think I like the guy right after I read his biodata and saw his picture which I believe he took right after or right before he threw up. I also dug up stuff from Facebook and Orkut about the poor lad that could help me justify why exactly I don't like him. Even then my dad was under the impression that if I "just speak to the guy, I will change my mind" and fall hopelessly in love with him. I didn't think so but whatever. Decided to humor him.

The only thing I was worried bout was everyone making a big huge deal out of it and getting all nervous. I was hardly nervous or excited about it. I was totally and entirely tensed about my driver's license test the next day though. This seemed like a cakewalk compared to that.

 
Things were all good until the relatives show up. I forgot to mention that for these kinda "ceremonies" more often than not, relatives and friends are invited to witness the grand event all and to bug you until you  wanna run off and join a monastery. 

So until then everyone was minding their own business and I was playing with my nephew and the chickens n all. The relatives bug me into changing my clothes and getting ready although it would be hours until the "viewers" would show up. I didn't argue. I went and changed into "very" decent girl clothes and totally did everything they wanted me to and tried my best to turn me into someone I'm not. One of my relatives wanted me to slap on a coupla layers of foundation. That really pissed me off. I mean say I get married to this dude. And the day after I'm married he sees me without the 10 layers of foundation, I wouldn't want him to die of heart failure. I mean in this setting, I'm really not gonna get married to a guy who loves me for my personality or shit. Mite as well marry a guy who likes me for what I truely and honestly look like atleast. So yeah anyway, I swallow my frustration and ignore everything else they have to say.

Anyway to cut the long story short, the guy shows up. And I was busy playing with the chicken. Mom announces their arrival and suddenly I have this incredible urge to laugh uncontrollably. I reaally hoped I wouldn't go stand in front of them and have a giggling fit. Maybe it was then that the ridiculousness of it all sank in. 

I sneak a peek and see the guy who looks up and sees me at the same time. In a normal situation I would've totally gone all la-la-la at this point since I loooove filmy moments like this. Right then it just made my stomach ache. Not in a good way either. I was forbidden from going out there and meeting them until I'm called out. So I'm sitting there in my room, texting my friends and waiting and waiting cos I was really hungry and my folks had got all these goodies and snacks for when these people show up. My sis comes in and tells me that they're eating now. Oh goody now I can go. No not yet, says Sis. Ugh.

 
So I'm waiting and waiting. They finish eating and they still havent called me out. Now I was like oh good, maybe they all forgot all about me and why they came and now they'll just leave and this nightmare will be over! And thats when Mum comes in with the same smug smile she had when she once caught me checking out guys from the window in my room, before I could even deny what I was doing. I'm not sure why she had that smile on now. Anyhow, I step out with a broad fake smile. I totally rock at fake smiles. You can never ever tell when I'm faking it. Its an art that I've perfected. So I'm fake smiling at all these people and I totally check the guy out. 

And the first impression that I have of him is that he's the kinda guy you see in buses. Not the touchy-feely jerks. The kinds that sit in the last seat and stare at you until you get off the bus. I had a feeling I might've even seen this fellow in a bus somewhere. And he was staring at me right then. Yikes.

 
The mom and aunt and whoever that was makes small talk. I smile and talk, smile and talk. I felt like I was acting out the part of decent prospective bride in some B-grade movie.

And as much as I hated all of it and wanted to kill everyone for making me do it, I was obliged to behave. Too complicated to explain why.

 
There were these awkward silences where noone would say anything. They'd just have these huge toothy smiles and they'd all be staring at me. You have nooo idea how freaky that is. You look at them and they're just smiling and staring. Like in psycho movies! So I look at the guy. Who looks away whenever I look at him. Hello! What was with this dude?! He looked extremely uncomfortable and was totally fake laughing too. Well, it sounded fake. And he kept laughing at things that weren't funny at all! I hate having to do that. Smiling is ok. I really can't laugh at unfunny things unless its done/said by a really really Really cute guy. But even that has limits.

Hmm, anyway everything depended on the 5 minutes that I get to talk to him personally. I had even prepared a list of things I could ask him (few of which were totally vetoed by mum). I had the whole thing planned in my head. Either I prove to mum and dad that this guy is totally unmarry-able or I find something or the other to make him seem irresistable. Anything could happen in those 5 minutes.

 
Dad utters the sacred words : Maybe we should let the two of them speak privately.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
Guy (looking bewildered) :  I don't have anything to say!
Me (in my head) :  You've got to bloody kidding me! How the %$*& am I gonna fall madly and crazily in love with you if you don't let me talk to you! Should I say that I wanna talk? Would that be breaking the "decency" code? Do I really want to talk to this guy anyway? Why prolong this process? The sooner they leave, the sooner I can eat.

So I say nothing. Blah. Who cares.

I look at the food sadly. It was all almost over. :-(
I sadly look over at the little boy who came along with these people. He was kicking a ball towards my nephew. *sigh* I could kick way better than that. I wanted to go play with them. Damned bride-viewing nonsense. I look at the guy again who looks away again. Ugh.

When they all finally got up to leave, one of the women who came along with them held my hand and said goodbye. And she wouldn't let go! She was smiling and staring and smiling and not letting go! I freaked! I thought she wanted to take me home right then itself! Yeah sure like I'd go home with the guy who doesn't even wanna talk to me. I really couldnt understand it though. Why didn't he wanna talk to me? And why did he have to look so appalled at the idea of it? I hardly look intimidating. I couldn't even intimidate a lil baby! What was that guy's problem anyway?! Stupid guy missed the conversation of a lifetime. Oh well, his loss.

Before he left he once again did the whole filmy thing and turned around and glanced one last time and stuff. Very filmy. Yeah, can't speak to me but puts up all this filmy shit. Yeah. Okay.Whatever.
Anyhow, that ended and turns out nobody liked anybody very much and that was my narrow escape.
I still think that the custom sucks but its actually fun to think of now. And its given me something to write about.

 
Few more people came to see me after that. But it was all awfully dull. My sister figured I should just give in and marry some guy to put an end to these visits. Yeah, the ultimate reason to get married! I'm sure 'll figure out another way out of this. I've got time until my next bride-viewing session, don't I? Ugh!

How did the damn chicken do it???

This is it. Its now or never.
Sweat is dripping down my face. I clutch the end of my dupatta. Close my eyes and send a silent prayer upwards. I bite my lips. Worry lines form on my forehead. People are staring. I can tell. I can feel their eyes on me. They're laughing. I can hear it in my head. I look right. I look left. My leg inches forward. And then jerks backwards. I do this a coupla times. It feels like a stupid dance step now. I look at the man next to me give me a weird look and cross the goddamn road without a care in the world.
I mean how.. how do people do that? Cross that obstacle of death just like that like they're walking from their bedroom to the kitchen? I mean its an open trap. Its like running through fire. Like jumping put the window and hoping to land safely... I need help. I can't cross roads. :-(
I am gona have to sue my kindergarten teachers. They made it seem so simple. Just look right. Left. and Walk... uh like yeah right!! Its more like Look left..right.. then left right left right left right frantically till you feel you head spinning. Then venture onwards and then change your mind. Then step backwards then try again..and again and again and again. Maybe you'll make it on your 20th attempt.
And when this is whole road-crossing-step-dance is going on, I feel that the whole world is looking at me. Not just when I'm giving myself motivational you-can-do-this-have-faith-in-yourself talks. Just generally when I'm standing there looking stupid when the rest millions of people have already crossed. They're probably not looking cos they probably don't have That much time to waste.
 I think the joke should've gone "How did the chicken cross the road?" Because I sure as hell don't care why he did it.
The one thing that I totally respect the teachers for teaching us regarding road crossing is to hold someones hands.. I mean my dad still grabs my hand when we're crossing roads. I totally give him the "oh pfft please,dad.. Do I look 5 to you?" expression and snorts, but still subtly tighten my grip at the same time.
             But I totally detest guys or people who go "Hmm, why do all girls make such a huge deal bout crossing roads?" Ok that statement was totaaally uncalled for.. by many of you. Just cos I'm a road-crossing-dummy does not mean that you can generalize. You've already tagged the "bad driver" tag on women (which btw is sooo not true either. My driving is getting great each passing day. And I've only crashed once! No biggie!)
                 You know what I looove though. Bridges. I think they should put em everywhere.. Or have like a lil button which when pressed has like a tiny yellow bridge( I dunno why yellow) unfold from underground and assemble automatically whenever needed.. Ooorr.. Those walk, don't walk lil red and green men would be fine too.. Easier since its already been invented. I'm not too sure bout how I feel bout the zebra crossing thingies. I mean I like the fact that if someone hits you when you are at a zebra, you get lotta money n all.. Dunno if its worth it..Hmm..
I've had a coupla experiences while crossing roads. Especially in those roads that are actually not roads but a football ground parading around as a road. I mean those things where 500 roads meet. How, on earth does one cross that thing? I'd probably close my eyes and run screaming at the top of my voice, all the way to the other end. I admire how people talk on the phone while crossing the road. I mean talk bout multi-tasking. I can't even walk and drink water at the same time. Let alone defy death and enquire about..whatever I'm enquiring bout on the phone, at the same time.
Its amazing how dogs do it. In my life-time I've never seen even one dog get hit by a vehicle when crossing roads. I'm sure they do. But most of the time they make such narrow escapes. Its like they're trained. They should have like a Road-Crossing class as a secondary subject in Driving schools. Where you learn in not so busy roads and then graduate to medium busy and then finally to something like a highway or something, which is where I think I'm gonna die someday.
While I think of a way to put that idea across to my driving school officials, you take care of yourself when you're crossing the roads. Its actually no laughing matter. Pedestrian fatalities have increased by 20 percent, from 105 in 2005 to 126 in 2006. Well, thats in Ontario, Canada. I googled and this is all I could find in short notice. But you get the message. Be sure to look right.. and left.. and right left right left right left right left right... You'll get used to the dizziness after some time.

For the Love of Tea!

                     It was like just any other normal day. That was until Mom decides to disappear. She does that every now and then and I used to get all freaked out thinking she got abduct by aliens or carried away by giant bees or shrunk and fell down the sink (Ok, this was when I was really really young). But no, it always turns out to be something boring like she went shopping or she was at the neighbours or something blah.
So I wake up one Sunday morning (read afternoon) to see she's pulling a Mary Poppins disappearing act on me again. So its just me and Dad in the house. And its almost time for tea. And I knew that Dad was gonna turn into the Scrooge from The Christmas Past (Or was that the Grinch?) if he doesn't get his tea on time. So I do what I do best. I go to my room and send Mom telepathic messages. I would've called her on her phone but knowing Mom, it would most probably start ringing from somewhere right behind me and scare the hibijeebies outta me. My telepathy would've worked just fine if Dad hadn't come into the room with his Great Idea!
The Great Idea involved Me going into the Kitchen and doing whatever it is that they do and come up with his life-replenishing cup of Tea! Me - Kitchen- Tea. Uh, yeah right!
But you do not shake your head or utter any word that may in any sense convey the meaning of "NO WAY DADDIO" in the house during the days on which Dad is tea-deprived.
So in a state of hopeless surrender, I venture into the kitchen. Tea... how hard can it be? I've even made it before like a bazillion years ago. When I poured burning hot water onto my hand and ran around the apartment like a screaming banshee (what is a screaming Banshee anyway?Have to google that sometime) So yeah, can't say I'm an entire amateur in this department.

So I see cups, we need that. I see boiling round pan like thing which I'm not sure what its called. Its the thing in which you boil milk. The Boiler. Right.
So I know your either suppose to boil milk or water in it to make tea. Hmm...
Okay so I leave that for then and open the cupboard to find the tea bags. Instead I find like 10 billion unlabelled bottles of brown coloured powder. Awesome.
I do not find any tea bags which is like a huge bummer because that whole tea-making fiasco I had years ago involved tea bags. Tea without tea-bags...now thats like a whole different ball game. Oh well. I'm half way in. Might as well go all the way in and drown and die possibly.
I open up one of the bottle and sniff. Aaah, the heavenly scent of fresh tea. Well, that was probably not fresh tea, but how was I to know what fresh tea smelt like anyway, so this was good enough.
Found the sugar too. And milk too. Ok, so I had all the ingredients. Now I just had to figure out in which order to put them all together. Minutes tick by. Dad gets grouchier. Okay, thats it. There was no use in pretending any furthur that I could do this. I get my phone and call up the next best thing to mom (in terms of tea-making.. well ok in a lotta other terms too :-P).. My sister!
With no time for hellos or you know whats, I explain the situation to her. She tells me exactly what to do. To put in the......um....well ok I don't remember what she told me anymore, but yeah she told me what she told me.
Oh and she told me to put in the tea powder only when the milk starts boiling. I'm like all yeah yeah hey did you see the new trailor of blah blah blah blah.... and whooooop the milk sorta like starts inflating itself and pops outta the Boiler. I put in the tea powder and turn off the stove. The milk stops acting crazy.
Hmmm.. ok, thats it? This is tea? Why is all white? And why is the tea powder floating bout like little blackheads on the top? Ok, maybe I should like let it boil a little longer.
I turn the stove back on and stand back in case the milk decides to jump out on me again. It seemed normal. It was even turning the right color. Yay!
 Sis had asked me use the filter thingy to keep out the tea powder because it would'nt get dissolved. I couldn't find any tea residue in there but that was probably because I boiled it twice. Hmm, now there's something I should tell my sister to try. With a smile on my face, I pour my work of art into a cup and stared in horror. What had began as a cup of milk filled to the brim was  now 1/4th of a cup of tea. What the!
With no time to ponder over the marvels of evaporation and stuff, I  ransack the cupboard and find the tiniest possible tea cup that we owned. I poured in the tea into this miniscule cup which filled up immediate and made the world a happier place for me again.
I place it on a saucer and take it over to Dad who looked like something else that I would refer to as the Boiler now. I hand him the tea and go to my room. The thing with my dad is whatever I do, he praises me like crazy and ends it with "You should've studied to be a ....". So far I've got baker, interior designer, massuese, artist, nurse/doctor, actor, hair stylist, gardener, table setter and food decorator.
So I kneeeew he was gonna tell me how good my tea is and how I should have been a professional tea-maker so I didn't stick around for it. But then of course, exactly three seconds later he calls me back. I'm like "Hoo boy, here we go again!"
Me: Yes, dad?
Dad: Hmm, this is really good, dear, but umm...just a tiny little thing...this is Coffee. I asked for tea.
Me: Whaaaa? (splutter, gasp, splutter)
Dad : But thats ok. Its still good. You could like start a little cafe and make coffee professionally. Its really good.
I'm like..I couldn't even think of what to say. How?? How could that happen?How did my tea turn into coffee? I put in tea....didn't I?
Apparently, I can't distinguish between the smell of tea and coffee. So the "heavenly scent of tea" was really the "heavenly scent of coffee". Which also explains the whole magically dissolving "tea" powder. Oh well. At least Dad seems happy. And whats the lesson that I learnt from this? That I apparently can make super good cafe-type coffee. Yawn... so what else is new?