I’ve just reached home from another day in the office, barely surviving the ‘office traffic’, when the incessant messages on my phone remind me that I have a wedding to attend!
And as I check the wedding venue details, I can’t help the groan that comes. IT IS TOO FAR AWAY! Again!
The location is another one of the popular ‘wedding’ locations, far away from the city and I just know that it will take me forever to reach there and even more time to come back!
When the wedding I have to attend clashes with the 10 other weddings happening simultaneously at the same venue, I can’t help but regret making that friend in the first place – the one whose wedding I ‘have to’ attend.
I iron my dress, all the time constantly thinking of the futility of the whole effort, as most of my time will be spent commuting to the wedding, rather than attending it.
Sleepy and tired and driving for what seems like an eternity, I have let out a few choice curse words for the “happy couple” even before meeting them.
I have analyzed the level of affection I have for the soon to be married couple more times than there are kilometers between my place and the venue. The thought that I have just given up a soft bed for a hard car seat is playing havoc on my mind. And I begin to lose that affection with every second that passes.
As I stumble through the throng of cars, trying to find a decent parking spot, I think of the wine bottle waiting for me at home, along with the recently renewed Netflix subscription.
At this point, I’ve managed to forget every reason of why anyone should get married, and can not help but think that court marriages should be the norm, not the exception.
When I finallllyyy enter the wedding venue, I am greeted by friends that I could have just as easily met over Sunday brunch and relatives who I actively avoid in the first place.
At the end of this, stepping up to meet the couple on the rickety stage in high heels is just asking for trouble. My lips says ‘congratulations’ but my mind is plotting a revenge plot more suited for the Games of Thrones universe than a Delhi wedding.
I’ve barely managed to make a round of the delicacies that constitute the wedding diet, when I check the time and realize that I need to rush back home, so as to make it in time to my bed.
And so I imitate the Cinderella rush, without the magical end results, and brace the muddy parking lot to get to my car. And then I wait…because the multiple weddings that were being hosted at the same bloody venue has created the “favorite” Indian pastime – Traffic Jam.
Why would people have weddings in such far-off places? And is it only when the bride has made the grand teary exit, that one gets a shot at slightly empty roads?
At that very moment, when my car has moved an inch in an hour, I decide – if a wedding is not important enough to mark a leave in my office for the day, I am not attending it!
I have had enough of the wedding photographs where my elaborate hairdo is resembling a birds’ nest, of wedding food that has but one purpose, to spill on my clothes, and of having my favorite heels be encrusted in dried mud for time immemorial.
The ride is not worth it, and the couple who wanted to share their love story with me are at the receiving end of more hate than they could imagine.
Having made the final decision to abandon far-off weddings, accompanied by truck drivers and other hassled marriage returners, I finally move my car. Only to be caught in another incoming baraat procession!
That’s it, I am done!! I’d rather help the next couple elope than attend their wedding!