Your wedding is NOT your wedding

Yeah! Doesn’t make sense right? But, it’s true. Am sure some of the married ones agree ;)

Me being me, I did not want to get married, but then I loved the idea of being ‘wedded’. Alright, probably everyone dreams about their wedding. But it completely slipped my mind that my parents have been dreaming of my wedding too! And so, the saga begins…

Things wouldn’t have been difficult had I

1. Not chosen ‘the’ guy all by myself
2. Not attended the turtle walk which got me closer to the environment (read about it here)
3. Not grown to be an independent girl with MY opinions, MY principles, and MY thoughts.

Well, what is an Indian wedding without all the drama, you say? ;)

I had always dreamt of a temple wedding. One of my cousins got married in Madurai Meenakshi temple and I thought it was magical! The thought was further romanticised by the wedding scene in the movie ‘2 states’ (do not bother googling the name of the temple – it was a studio setting much to my disappointment). And then, I attended a friend’s wedding in Guruvayoor, where the whole concept grounded me because of the simplicity. Brides along with their grooms stood in queues awaiting their turn on their ‘D day’ which was also the ‘D day’ for many others. It was then the ‘stardom’ feeling was kicked out of me. Needless to say, this feeling of ‘grounded’ was much stronger than the initial feelings of magic and romance of the temple wedding idea. I was never more sure about wanting a temple wedding. But well you know, ‘Your wedding is not your wedding’. The parents worried, “What will people say?”; the ‘people’ asked, “Oh! Why temple? You have only one daughter. You should get her married in style.” And here I thought we are proud of our temples' style and all! But gladly, the parents agreed :) So, finally it was to be a temple wedding in the morning followed by a lunch reception at a wedding hall. Wedding hall?? What??? WAIT!!! That was not what I meanttttttt...

After coming to terms to the wedding hall wala addition, I thought it was best to focus on the décor to feel better. After all, I had pitched in my ideas at various events, so I had a head start. Or so I thought. Turtle walks had heavily influenced my thoughts to ‘think local’. Our needs do not have to add additional burden on the environment for the sake of exotic flowers! Flowers are all about colours in wedding décor (not much for fragrance as we have cosmetics to do the job ;)). But hell I was wrong! Flowers have 'class' – the highly orchids and anthuriums, the middle class carnations and roses and the lower class gerberas and marigolds! Frankly, I was tired of all the orchids and huge canvasses at the weddings and wanted a traditional, simple décor using colourful marigolds, jasmine and roses. Inspired by a friend’s wedding in Chennai, I wanted re-usable components like bells and lamps and not thermocol which would add to the wedding generated thrash. Armed with the idea, I entered the battlefield. “Marigolds? Why are you saving so much? This is the only time you are getting married!”; the customary “What will people think?”; and the deadly “What marigolds? That is used only in funerals!” (while in North India, marigolds are even used as garlands for bride and groom!!). Negotiations later, I let go off the marigold because the funeral became an emotional point (I was already causing 'enough' emotional distress by choosing a guy of my choice….. ah!). So, roses , jasmines and bells it was! It involved a lot of drawings and re-drawings of the arrangement for the decoration guy, as he had never done something like this before. But thankfully, he was game for the challenge and this is how it looked..

Backdrop in white and red, and the bride was in green to contrast the colours :)
Yeah, the colours of my saree was decided after the backdrop colours were decided :P

Two discussions down, many many more to go…

I moved on to my favourite section – fooooood! I am generally the star at eating out, and have almost always been the one to order from the menu. Ergo, this was no big deal. Boy, I was soo wrong! Because, I not only had to satisfy the general criteria and wishes but also, the Marathi taste buds (thanks to yours truly marrying a Maharashtrian!). The only thing that was consensually agreed upon was the traditional south Indian yelle oota (plaintain leaf meal). And then it began..

Sweet #1 – Payasa of Sabudaana 

“That is fasting food! Not a celebration food”

“Okay, so semiya payasa?” “That’s so ordinary”

“Dry fruits payasa?” “That is too rich that I have seen people leaving it on the leaf, such a waste”

“Fruits payasa?” “Very courageous I would say”

“Ah! Let us just stick to safe semiya payasa”

Sweet #2 – “Chiroti laddu is a must”

“Too many diabetes patients these days, it will get wasted”

“But young people will eat na?”

“Majority of the guests will not be young, it’s a weekday wedding”

“But it is a signature dish. It will look grand too – separate plate and ….”

Wait! No food items that will consume plastic. Cancelled! 

Thankfully, this was not overruled!

…

…

…

Starter – Gobi Manchurian

“That is Chinese, not south Indian!”

“And it contains garlic”

“It can be made without garlic”

“But the taste wouldn’t be the same”

“Everyone has it these days. It is so ordinary”

“How about vada?”

“Nooo! It is served only in certain festivals and funerals”

“How about bajji?”

“Bajji is best when served hot and it becomes soggy later.”

“Oily too. People will waste it on the leaf”

…

…

…

And so it goes on for three hours before we finalise details - from the size of the water bottle to whether beeda needs a separate counter. Phew! After all that food talk, I am hypoglycaemic! ;)

This is only the first half of the menu..
A Maharashtrian fascinated by the south Indian plaintain leaf meal at the wedding captured this :)
Loved the colours!

The next ‘big’ decision was about invitation cards. And to ensure there is an argument, invitation cards come in all sizes and shapes; in single sheets to multiple layers and in vaaarious styles. Our ‘wants’ ensured that they go the full way too - from wanting it big to wanting it small enough to have just the date, venue and names. After all this, they find their way to the dustbins, not to mention the wastage of paper (in case you still don’t get it – climate change is for real, even before Leo said that last month). So we decided to get the simple card. And that was only the beginning of the card story. From the name of the male god and the female goddess to grace on the card, to the length of the address, to the size of the font - everything was a debate. We had the additional printer here who had to say no to almost everything we suggested. As we wound up, he asked, “cards for your friend madam?” Ah! And I thought we were in a digitised world.  Well, this is the ‘logo’ I Whatsapped to invite my friends and they were the coolest to consider it 'sufficient' to attend my wedding. Thanks dearies :)

The logo also went on tiny fridge magnets as souvenirs - custom-made with the famed Mysore palace as the backdrop :)

Talking about the attendees, I realised that my parents' invite list only grew lengthier each day – not by tens, but by hundreds!! Yeah, happiness should be shared and my folks took it rather seriously. And while I went about shrinking my personal invite list, my parents stretched it to include their 35 year old colleague’s neighbours who were known to my parents way before I was born! And that is when I gave up and realised that well, your wedding is not really your wedding! So there I was, standing on the stage, sweating it out in front of those lights, smiling on auto-pilot mode at the 1000 odd people - my parent's friends/colleagues/relatives, who have been their co-passengers in the journey of life. So, rightfully they have chosen an occasion to meet them all. I think I finally understood my parents, although it is very unlikely of me to follow their footsteps in making a wedding big and fat.

I frankly don’t remember much of my wedding..it seemed like a blur. Sometimes I wish to marry again, just to remember the events of the day you know. I mentioned it to my brother, and he asked, “you want to plan it all again?” No no! Not again!!

Well, while this blog was a lot about how things don’t really go the way you want them to, it is also my humble attempt to create awareness and engage in a healthy conversation at how we could downsize and downplay events. So feel free to share your thoughts. 

P.S – I thought I could manage my own wedding and trust me I did it till the last week. But then friends, family and most importantly, my parents did a great job in executing it! Here is a biiiiig shout to all of them :)

P.P.S – The blog above is just the tip of an iceberg, and has dealt with only few topics with a modest approach. Feel free to exaggerate and imagine on the other issues. It is an Indian wedding after all! ;) 

'Food' for thought...

I have of late become a foodie and hence I spend a lot of time reading and writing food reviews. I went a step further from reading and writing to watching a foodie Kannada movie called ‘Oggarne’ (tadka in Kannada), what with it being directed by Prakash Rai and getting good reviews too...

So, with the best cook in town (read mother), the foodie went to watch the foodie movie. The first song was awesome, just awesome! Food porn literally killed me!

And then the movie began.. A mid 40's unmarried man who is an archaeologist, is happy and content with having just one love in life-FOOD, both eating and cooking (brownie point for showing how much a man can enjoy cooking)! A call from a wrong number (thanks to, what else but food) and he ends up talking to a mid 30's dubbing artiste who gives voice over for all the leading actresses (another brownie point-she has a job, earns her money and is not someone who is dependent). She is unmarried because of some fault in her astrology charts (sigh! minus 1 point). 

They spend hours on phone together discussing, what else but food (brownie point again-love can happen at any age). They even bake a cake together... on phone!! The cake tastes yumm and so they realise that they need to meet. Apprehensive of the meeting, they come up with the same idea (of impersonation) and how they finally meet each other despite the confusion forms the rest of the movie.. With the subject as 'love is cooking', I was expecting their love to grow and bond over cooking. I was expecting an unique recipe, but was fairly disappointed!

What actually happened was that they stopped talking due to the confusion of impersonation. The archaeologist who was till now content with love for food, after 'tasting' companionship is all hurt and depressed (he continues to work though). The lady on the other side is unable to do her dubbing and gives takes after takes (minus point for showing the woman weaker). She hates the word marriage even more than before, what with everyone saying things about her beauty fading away before marriageable age (really?!? Olay should probably close down now. Minus point again!). Well, the lady succumbs to societal pressure and keeps cribbing about no man ready to marry her. RIDICULOUS! Here is a pretty lady, having a job of her own but is threatened in the society because she lacks a man in life (how medieval can you get! Minus minus minus!). A senior colleague makes a pass on her to which she fittingly replies but continues to crib about how she cannot take it any longer (I have lost count of minus points...). The message put across is that marriage is a necessity, otherwise men will make passes on you, consider you 'open', and worse, it does not matter if you are earning or not cause if you dont share life with a person of the opposite gender, then your earnings are worth nothing! (RaGa, see no one cares about women empowerment). And what ever happened to the caption 'love is cooking'??? They focused only on marriage, not love; and not even cooking! 

I expected Prakash Rai (who is greatly appreciated here and elsewhere too for his acting) to deliver a coming of age movie. He instead sticks to the much revered stereotype of marriage is a necessity, and is infact a necessary social evil. In these days and times, it is important to teach our girls that she can rule the world with whatever she has, that she does not need a man who will marry her for her money or for her beauty (this is infact the man you need to avoid). Husband is no lucky charm to ward off social evils. You need to fight them yourself first. Sneha plays the part brilliantly, but I wish her character had broken free of her stereotyped boundaries and instead inspired women by not succumbing to pressure, like this article says or this or this.

The movie was about reaching a destination called Marriage and not about the journey called love.
I would have been happy if they had atleast stuck to their caption of 'love is cooking'! Thankfully, the other characters in the movie give some subtle essence to that line.

Watch the movie, but dont take home the message..

P.S – Could someone please tell me what was the tribal's role???

Summer blooms and spring reveries

My new routine is to now eat my breakfast standing by the kitchen sink. Yes, it’s because I get really late for work and this saves time. But then, this has a beautiful reason too. The window beside the sink opens up to an exceptionally striking sight - a Gulmohar tree in full bloom. The vivid orange red flowers against the bright green foliage are something which not just makes the present pleasant but in fact brings back wonderful memories of the past.

As seen from my window...

My first memories of the tree are in Mysore during the 80's. A small kid then, I was delighted to walk on the floral carpet made of these very flowers on freshly washed roads (courtesy the rain). Moving on to Bangalore, Gulmohar was very much a part of my growing years. Our English textbook was called Gulmohar and had the picture of the same on the cover page. Now, did the Gulmohar connection pull me to the book and the English language, is something that I don’t really know. 

Blooming in May, the sight of these flowers was obviously associated with summer vacations and cousins. My cousins and I played with every part of the flower. The flowers were used for decorating our wooden toys, and steel glasses were converted to vases so as to exhibit them. The sepals of the buds were separated and stuck on to our fingers to make bloody looking claws. We then made scary looking faces and enacted like tigers and ghosts with those 'claws'. The koli jagala ('chicken fight'- I dont really know why it was called so!) was played with the filaments containing the anther within the buds. Who ever nicked the 'head' (anther) off the filament was the winner, and the game continued until you finished all the filaments in the flower bud. Childhood games back then were really natural, simple and easily accessible. Most importantly they were never a burden on the household expenses unlike the present day.

The tree in bloom 'announced' festivities too. The wedding ‘chapras’ (the traditional coconut leaf shelter outside the house signifying a marriage) were familiarly decorated with them, what with the month chaitra heralding the wedding season. And when all the fun, festivities and vacations were over, Gulmohar still lifted our spirits. While walking back from school, the sheer fun of running to find the flower buds and jumping on them broke the sadness of school reopening after a long summer break.

Hmmm.. From Mysore to Bangalore to Chennai, things have changed, people have changed, time has changed, but the memories of the tree and the tree itself has not changed. Nature in all her manifestations stands as a testimony to our growing up from playing juvenile games with her to now standing and admiring her in full splendor. 

Lessons from the sea....

Last night at the beach, I was playing a little game with the sea. Every time the waves receded, I ran towards the sea and ran backwards towards the shore when the next wave approached. The rule was simple - to not to let the waves touch me and yet go farthest possible into the sea.

While I was teasing the sea this way, running backwards to the shore trying to escape an approaching wave, I stumbled, fell down and the wave swept over me. As I sat there shocked by my defeat I saw another wave approaching me. I heard my friends asking me to get up and run. Yet, it was entirely upto me to either get stuck in time and let another wave sweep across me or to get up and run back. 

And, run back I did. :)

So, 

1. When you feel defeated in life, the DECISION to let the defeat defeat you IS entirely YOURS.

2. You can chose to dwell in the 'fall' phase of your life or 'get up' and be on track. Only YOU can CHOSE.

3. It definitely helps to HAVE YOUR PEOPLE during this time. Though they may not physically be able to help you, be receptive to their call of help. 

4. Again, they can only 'call', but only you can HELP YOUR SELF. 

5. And well, always MOVE AHEAD and forward in life. Not backward. You may have the advantage of knowing/facing your opponent when moving backward, but 'moving ahead' in life should be irrespective of your opponents.

"Have the strength to swim, and you will never sink"

To let go OR to hold on?

After years of knowing what I don't want to do, I was still fighting with my world outside and well,.. inside too. "Should I just cut all my 'fancy' ambitions and get down to reality as advised by the likes of people who have seen more world than me or should I go against the tide like I always have?" the question haunted me.

A friend once told me that I am a rebel for the sake of being a rebel. Now, I did not want to live up to that reputation. Especially, cause I believed myself to be a revolutionary :)

So, when I was being divided in understanding who I really was and illogically (for others) rejecting 'ideas' and offers of 'help' (which my brain intercepted as sympathy), things just happened from nowhere! Well, not really nowhere, but from unexpected quarters and to a large extent from unknown people too.

I was still skeptical when I attended the interview in Chennai and even more skeptical when I got through it. I remember not reacting to the news. Was I so sure that I will get through that I was non-reactive or was I so apprehensive about the whole thing that I was not really sure whether to be happy or sad, and hence non-reactive? Whatever the reason was, my face was largely non-reactive, but the turmoil within is something that no one will ever know.

Braced with the fact that my new year will truly be a new year with new people, new places, new work, new environment, I realised that everything that was new was also totally unknown to me. Ah! The new or unknown never scared me. But the scar of letting go of things haunted me. 

Anyways, with all kinds of encouraging words from family and friends, I managed to reach Chennai. But now, beyond 'reaching Chennai' it was completely unto me to prove myself that am a revolutionary and not a rebel.

Inhibitions to get out of old scars are so much that we sometimes refuse to get out of it. That is exactly what I did- refused to help myself get out of it. I wanted to dwell in it and I kind of liked myself in that state. But me being me, I could not just go on that way. Oh ya, hating my job sometimes made me feel good but sometimes worsened the situation. There were times I found reasons to quit it and go back. But I knew for sure I did not want to go back. Like always, I knew what I did not want. :) And well, I did not want to be the quitter too. But then, everything was going wrong. That is how it is always, isn't it?

And then I chose to see things beyond what my eyes could see. Life suddenly became simply more beautiful. The feeling was not attached to my job, nor the place, nor the people. And the best way to prove it is the fact that my Facebook updates are no longer about how much ‘I love Mysore’, ‘miss Mysore’, ‘am in Mysore’, about Mysore and so on. I remember the times when people would ask me what happened when the word 'Mysore' did not turn up in my updates. Mysore was so much a part of Lakshmi Krishnan..... until now. No, I am not not saying Chennai has replaced Mysore.. It never will..

What has happened is that I have grown beyond the attachment for people, places and things..

What has happened is that I have learnt to let go of people, places and things..

What has happened is that my state of mind (read peace) is not because of people, places and things..

But what should not happen is that I should not forget to hold onto people, places and things..because, there is a lot of difference between 'letting go' and 'holding on'.

I want to let go and hold on...

Why? Why?? Why???

With the moon above, as I travel,

I cant help but marvel,

At God's marvellous creations,

And His hand crafted situations.

Is there an answer to every 'why'?,

Or is it most of the times answered with a lie?

Is it for a lesson or only the pain?

Oh my!! My questions start again!!!

CHANGE OF SEASONS...

Curled up with my book,
My thoughts race back in time,
To the time I was held by a hook,
A hook which I believed was bliss supreme.

So naive I was, and naive I still am…
To have believed life had bestowed upon me a gift.
Only to now feel like a dam,
Torn down by deceit.

The dam trusted in its maker,
And so did I…
Only to learn better,
That ‘trust’ is a word destined to die.

As I sunk in this negativity,
I heard the pitter and patter
Of the rain, trying to do its duty,
Trying to remove my minds 'clutter'.

Through the window, I opened up
To the first rain of the season…
I stood there numb,
Trying to reason with reasons…

I know not why, I know not how…
But I know now that for sure it is…
Am a fool and there was no love,
And definitely no ‘good wish’..

As the rain grows fierce,
The thunder and lightening within
Does not seem to cease,
And all my questions seem thrown into the bin..

‘Why are there no answers,
But only empty faces?
Why have I no answers,
Just some more blank questions?’

Like the first shower,
Trying to beat the heat,
I too want it all over
And have my life laid out neat.

The rain seems like noise...
When all I want is a voice…
A voice to tell me, am cared for,
A voice to give me the reason to live for.

In the still night air...

In the still night air,
Looking through the window,
I feel the gentle breeze feel me…

In the still night air,
Looking up at the bright starry sky,
I wonder about the wonders beyond thee…

In the still night air,
Looking lost in life’s mysteries,
My senses draw me to a train whistling far away.

In the still night air,
Far away, a journey begins while another ends,
And within me arises a question…

Is mine an ‘end’ or a ‘rejuvenated beginning’?
In the still night air,
Lie many unanswered questions.

Nights will come and nights will go..
This stillness may remain for eternity,
Or be blown away by nature’s fury and mankind’s merry.
But the nights will come and nights will go.

In the still night air,
As my finger moves over the keyboard,
My glazed thoughts become immortal.