The Marathi Bram girl / Tam Bram Boy

                              Swati entered the Narayanan household, a brand new Marathi Brahmn bride now married to Srihari, a Tamil Bramhin and her long time beau.
                   It was a picture perfect wedding at Pune with mixture of both side rituals but of course with little confusion here and there. Like for instance when the groom's side landed at the wedding premises, Laxmi and Narayan (Srihari's parents), were amused to see the board outside the hall. It read, 'Purandare weds Narayanan'. Hari (as Shrihari was called), almost choked wondering whether it was him or his dad getting married !
                       The formal welcome ceremony over with the girl's side garlanding the groom's side, the 'Barat' entered the wedding hall. For the uninitiated, Marathi and Tam Brams are simpletons unlike the status conscious North/West Indians aka Punjabi's or Marwadi's, Gujarati's and likes. Mr. Narayanan was impressed, for one that the hall (anteroom) and its adjoining rooms had light pastel colours and were spic and span adorned attractively with roses and the breath taking scented jasmines unlike certain choultries in the south. All he needed now was 'Kapi', a must in the Tamil weddings where how soon coffee was served to the groom's side was an indicator of how well the wedding had been arranged. No 'Kapi' was even remotely seen around. Nevertheless it was arranged from a nearby 'Madrasi' restaurant and the groom's parents were satisfied. They were shown their rooms which had neat mattresses on the floor with sparkling white bedsheets. They were confused. Tam Bram orthodox prinicples scoffed at the bed being laid from the morning, i.e. on the floor. One was supposed to leave all footwear outside the room, wash feet and then sit on the floor mats, not mattresses. Anyways when they had compromised to have a non -Tamilian daughter in law, somewhere they had to begin. So the mattresses were rolled and floor mats laid out.
                 Time for pre-wedding day dinner. Very simple was all that came into their minds. Just one sweet !! How can one relish a wedding feast with just one sweet ? Down South in Bangalore, one had 'Paysam', 'Mysore Pak', 'Chirotee' to name a few. They thought may be in Marathi weddings, they dole out sweets on the wedding day. All of them had good sleep that night on the mattresses unlike certain weddings in the South where one had to make do with floor mats and pillows.Wedding day some of the rituals were similar. But the Southies missed the regular tea/kapi being served continuously throughout the wedding day by men in 'white panche' worn around the waist. The breakfast was ok followed by a disappointing lunch. Only one sweet, something called 'Srikhand' ? Of course there was post lunch 'Ice-cream' with various toppings but...authentic Indian sweets, cummon they are the best. Whatever happened to the 'Puran poli's' that they had heard about a lot ? Well o.k. they might all be reserved for the reception. And reception was lavish to their joy. The hot gulab jamuns were just yummy. The seasonal 'gajar ka halwa' satisfied the palate big time.
               Cut the story short, Swati, mentally prepared for the entirely different set up post marriage, started to settle in. Hari was the only Tamil friend she had, never having experienced Tamilians before. Well the language or the culture for that matter was the last thing on their minds when they dated. Wrong. She realised. She had not only married Hari but also the family and its rituals. She was lucky that his parents were broad minded and didn't force anything on her. She would see her in laws get up early in the morning, bathe and do puja the first thing. Various gods stared out of multi coloured photoframes that hung all around the walls of each room. What is with the Tamils she wondered ? Why do they need so many gods. Back home they had in the mandir few idols of prime gods like the Ganesha, Shiv etc. Ugh ! she didn't like the blue colour on the walls also. The house of her dreams was way beyond from where she had stepped into. Anyway Hari and herself would soon be leaving for Ahmedabad where he had a job.
                               She was shocked the next day to learn Hari had been re-located to Bangalore. 'Surprise wedding gift' said Hari to her. Well she had always liked Bangalore but contemplating living with 'Tamil in laws' at the beginning of her married life wasn't what she had in mind. She loved Hari's family though. So she got used to the daily 'thirpandi' (rangoli) which her MIL drew on the space in front of the house gate every morning at 6 am after sprinkling water on the cement. She couldn't imagine herself doing that day in and day out. She would soon be looking for job of course. Breakfast time and the MIL was taking out hot 'idlis' into a casserole. She asked Swati to pass on the 'tiffin plate' to Ravi her brother in law when she was thinking it was for her. She was famished. Back home 'aai' would make sure her daughter got to eat first. Well she reminded herself of her new status and she was supposed to serve wasn't she ? The next tiffin plate was handed over to her husband, then the father in law and then finally she got to eat. Nothing new..this, aai used to eat after she had served all but Swati had never given it a serious thought. Hmm ! she thought she'll outgrow all these silly things once life settled in. She woke up the next day to 'Suprabhatam' by MS. It was kind of pleasant only that it was a bit loud. She came out on the Patio to hear similar stuff in the surroundings. A morning jogger waved at her and she waved back and smiled. How little things brought smile to one's face, thought she as she returned to her bedroom to be confronted by her loving husband. She forgot all 'Tamil' stuff because the man she loved wasn't religion or culture or language. He was a good human being which was what mattered. Her in laws were also good human beings which was what mattered.

The Marathi Bram girl / Tam Bram Boy

                              Swati entered the Narayanan household, a brand new Marathi Brahmn bride now married to Srihari, a Tamil Bramhin and her long time beau.
                   It was a picture perfect wedding at Pune with mixture of both side rituals but of course with little confusion here and there. Like for instance when the groom's side landed at the wedding premises, Laxmi and Narayan (Srihari's parents), were amused to see the board outside the hall. It read, 'Purandare weds Narayanan'. Hari (as Shrihari was called), almost choked wondering whether it was him or his dad getting married !
                       The formal welcome ceremony over with the girl's side garlanding the groom's side, the 'Barat' entered the wedding hall. For the uninitiated, Marathi and Tam Brams are simpletons unlike the status conscious North/West Indians aka Punjabi's or Marwadi's, Gujarati's and likes. Mr. Narayanan was impressed, for one that the hall (anteroom) and its adjoining rooms had light pastel colours and were spic and span adorned attractively with roses and the breath taking scented jasmines unlike certain choultries in the south. All he needed now was 'Kapi', a must in the Tamil weddings where how soon coffee was served to the groom's side was an indicator of how well the wedding had been arranged. No 'Kapi' was even remotely seen around. Nevertheless it was arranged from a nearby 'Madrasi' restaurant and the groom's parents were satisfied. They were shown their rooms which had neat mattresses on the floor with sparkling white bedsheets. They were confused. Tam Bram orthodox prinicples scoffed at the bed being laid from the morning, i.e. on the floor. One was supposed to leave all footwear outside the room, wash feet and then sit on the floor mats, not mattresses. Anyways when they had compromised to have a non -Tamilian daughter in law, somewhere they had to begin. So the mattresses were rolled and floor mats laid out.
                 Time for pre-wedding day dinner. Very simple was all that came into their minds. Just one sweet !! How can one relish a wedding feast with just one sweet ? Down South in Bangalore, one had 'Paysam', 'Mysore Pak', 'Chirotee' to name a few. They thought may be in Marathi weddings, they dole out sweets on the wedding day. All of them had good sleep that night on the mattresses unlike certain weddings in the South where one had to make do with floor mats and pillows.Wedding day some of the rituals were similar. But the Southies missed the regular tea/kapi being served continuously throughout the wedding day by men in 'white panche' worn around the waist. The breakfast was ok followed by a disappointing lunch. Only one sweet, something called 'Srikhand' ? Of course there was post lunch 'Ice-cream' with various toppings but...authentic Indian sweets, cummon they are the best. Whatever happened to the 'Puran poli's' that they had heard about a lot ? Well o.k. they might all be reserved for the reception. And reception was lavish to their joy. The hot gulab jamuns were just yummy. The seasonal 'gajar ka halwa' satisfied the palate big time.
               Cut the story short, Swati, mentally prepared for the entirely different set up post marriage, started to settle in. Hari was the only Tamil friend she had, never having experienced Tamilians before. Well the language or the culture for that matter was the last thing on their minds when they dated. Wrong. She realised. She had not only married Hari but also the family and its rituals. She was lucky that his parents were broad minded and didn't force anything on her. She would see her in laws get up early in the morning, bathe and do puja the first thing. Various gods stared out of multi coloured photoframes that hung all around the walls of each room. What is with the Tamils she wondered ? Why do they need so many gods. Back home they had in the mandir few idols of prime gods like the Ganesha, Shiv etc. Ugh ! she didn't like the blue colour on the walls also. The house of her dreams was way beyond from where she had stepped into. Anyway Hari and herself would soon be leaving for Ahmedabad where he had a job.
                               She was shocked the next day to learn Hari had been re-located to Bangalore. 'Surprise wedding gift' said Hari to her. Well she had always liked Bangalore but contemplating living with 'Tamil in laws' at the beginning of her married life wasn't what she had in mind. She loved Hari's family though. So she got used to the daily 'thirpandi' (rangoli) which her MIL drew on the space in front of the house gate every morning at 6 am after sprinkling water on the cement. She couldn't imagine herself doing that day in and day out. She would soon be looking for job of course. Breakfast time and the MIL was taking out hot 'idlis' into a casserole. She asked Swati to pass on the 'tiffin plate' to Ravi her brother in law when she was thinking it was for her. She was famished. Back home 'aai' would make sure her daughter got to eat first. Well she reminded herself of her new status and she was supposed to serve wasn't she ? The next tiffin plate was handed over to her husband, then the father in law and then finally she got to eat. Nothing new..this, aai used to eat after she had served all but Swati had never given it a serious thought. Hmm ! she thought she'll outgrow all these silly things once life settled in. She woke up the next day to 'Suprabhatam' by MS. It was kind of pleasant only that it was a bit loud. She came out on the Patio to hear similar stuff in the surroundings. A morning jogger waved at her and she waved back and smiled. How little things brought smile to one's face, thought she as she returned to her bedroom to be confronted by her loving husband. She forgot all 'Tamil' stuff because the man she loved wasn't religion or culture or language. He was a good human being which was what mattered. Her in laws were also good human beings which was what mattered.

The Horoscope

                    'Hey kav's what's up ?' said R, who had just entered the hostel room, throwing her clutch onto the corner table. Kavita had been looking out of the window for quite a time. Romi bent down in front of her, face to face, trying to capture the expressions. Not able to find any, she thundered,' Cummon K. Enough brooding. Either you need him for your life or you don't. Decide. Now.'
                            It was a strange story. Kavita had met Neel while she was pursuing her career in Medicine. Both went steady. Marriage was the obvious choice but both of them had delayed it on purpose. Both were too independent, had contemplated 'live in' but had decided against it. Instead why not let go a few more years before they could have each other 24/7...Somehow the idea of being together all the time didn't look all that appealing. Well finally the day arrived when both mutually agreed to tie the knot. Neel's mother preferred looking at the horoscope and to his horror,  Kavita's horoscope didn't match at all. Not only that, the family pundit said that if Neel were to marry her, he would meet with an accident within an year of the marriage and would be no more. Neel wasn't convinced of course but after showing Kavita's horoscope to a dozen of astrologers, and all repeating the same fate, Neel was perturbed. Days had passed and Kavita sensed something was wrong but he wouldn't tell her. Once when they were having coffee at the Barista, he said calmly,' Kavita we can't get married'. She had been shattered of course. Her mind was covered with all kinds of 'why's'. She wasn't very good looking she knew but Neel knew it too. It was a connection that went beyond face or for that matter anything physical. How could Neel..her Neel- a software guy believe in such absurdities ? No no this can't be happening to her. She had lived in denial for quite a long time. But when Neel got married to another girl of his caste, the world had come to an end.
                         She was no longer herself. Bouts of depression, sickness had followed and she had slowly recovered with Romi's help. Romi had come into her life like fresh air and soaked up all the traces of gloom out of her life. Kavita had sprung back to her usual self, immersing herself in her work, patients, college, clinic. She never forgot Neel. Somewhere deep inside she knew she would have him. Five years had passed without Neel physically in her life. She came to know from a common friend that Neel's wife hadn't conceived. Well, though she listened anything even remotely connected to Neel, she managed to be composed and continued with life nevertheless, having forgiven him. She could never hate him. She would often quote the old song by Sudha Malhotra (Tum mujhey bhool bhi jao, tho ye hak hai tumko, meri baat aur hai mainey tho mohobbat ki hai) whenever Romi fumed. Life was strange indeed. It could go on without certain people whom the heart gets obsessed with.
                   One day at her clinic, she got a call and you might have guessed from who that was. It was Neel. While he spoke to her, she listened as if she was in a trance. He apologised for his stupid fear about the horoscope, said he repented everyday for the decision he had taken. Romi warned Kavita. But K wouldn't listen. Her Neel needed her. She had to know his story. She had to help him. And so phone calls continued and they started meeting too. He wouldn't leave his wife too. Romi's heart went out to her friend. She started praying thinking something divine could take care of this relationship. She even advised Kavita to ask Neel to get a divorce if at all he wanted to be with her again. Kavita wouldn't do that and so the 'staring out of the window sessions' continued. Romil thought, 'Today this has to end'. ' K, will you ask him to get a divorce?' 'No' said Kavita. Romil asked why and Kavita said she was o.k. being the support that Neel needed. What was wrong with that ? She could wait...till Fate decided something phenomenal otherwise life was o.k. as it was. She didn't believe marriage was the end of deep rooted relationship between a man and a woman. Things were fine. She pacified Romi

The Horoscope

                    'Hey kav's what's up ?' said R, who had just entered the hostel room, throwing her clutch onto the corner table. Kavita had been looking out of the window for quite a time. Romi bent down in front of her, face to face, trying to capture the expressions. Not able to find any, she thundered,' Cummon K. Enough brooding. Either you need him for your life or you don't. Decide. Now.'
                            It was a strange story. Kavita had met Neel while she was pursuing her career in Medicine. Both went steady. Marriage was the obvious choice but both of them had delayed it on purpose. Both were too independent, had contemplated 'live in' but had decided against it. Instead why not let go a few more years before they could have each other 24/7...Somehow the idea of being together all the time didn't look all that appealing. Well finally the day arrived when both mutually agreed to tie the knot. Neel's mother preferred looking at the horoscope and to his horror,  Kavita's horoscope didn't match at all. Not only that, the family pundit said that if Neel were to marry her, he would meet with an accident within an year of the marriage and would be no more. Neel wasn't convinced of course but after showing Kavita's horoscope to a dozen of astrologers, and all repeating the same fate, Neel was perturbed. Days had passed and Kavita sensed something was wrong but he wouldn't tell her. Once when they were having coffee at the Barista, he said calmly,' Kavita we can't get married'. She had been shattered of course. Her mind was covered with all kinds of 'why's'. She wasn't very good looking she knew but Neel knew it too. It was a connection that went beyond face or for that matter anything physical. How could Neel..her Neel- a software guy believe in such absurdities ? No no this can't be happening to her. She had lived in denial for quite a long time. But when Neel got married to another girl of his caste, the world had come to an end.
                         She was no longer herself. Bouts of depression, sickness had followed and she had slowly recovered with Romi's help. Romi had come into her life like fresh air and soaked up all the traces of gloom out of her life. Kavita had sprung back to her usual self, immersing herself in her work, patients, college, clinic. She never forgot Neel. Somewhere deep inside she knew she would have him. Five years had passed without Neel physically in her life. She came to know from a common friend that Neel's wife hadn't conceived. Well, though she listened anything even remotely connected to Neel, she managed to be composed and continued with life nevertheless, having forgiven him. She could never hate him. She would often quote the old song by Sudha Malhotra (Tum mujhey bhool bhi jao, tho ye hak hai tumko, meri baat aur hai mainey tho mohobbat ki hai) whenever Romi fumed. Life was strange indeed. It could go on without certain people whom the heart gets obsessed with.
                   One day at her clinic, she got a call and you might have guessed from who that was. It was Neel. While he spoke to her, she listened as if she was in a trance. He apologised for his stupid fear about the horoscope, said he repented everyday for the decision he had taken. Romi warned Kavita. But K wouldn't listen. Her Neel needed her. She had to know his story. She had to help him. And so phone calls continued and they started meeting too. He wouldn't leave his wife too. Romi's heart went out to her friend. She started praying thinking something divine could take care of this relationship. She even advised Kavita to ask Neel to get a divorce if at all he wanted to be with her again. Kavita wouldn't do that and so the 'staring out of the window sessions' continued. Romil thought, 'Today this has to end'. ' K, will you ask him to get a divorce?' 'No' said Kavita. Romil asked why and Kavita said she was o.k. being the support that Neel needed. What was wrong with that ? She could wait...till Fate decided something phenomenal otherwise life was o.k. as it was. She didn't believe marriage was the end of deep rooted relationship between a man and a woman. Things were fine. She pacified Romi