Chaha Pohe # 1

Its been a while now that this happened but I had to write about my experience. Maybe I'll get some tips from been-there-done-that people on do's and dont's. Alternately I could just end up wasting some more time writing random useless stuff :))

This dates back to my last trip back home in Dec 06. After a few days of fun, the obvious topic of marriage came up during one of our casual talks. My parents quickly convinced me that it was not all hunkydory when an arranged marriage was concerned. Gullible that I am (yeah, right!) I succumbed and agreed to .. how do I say this .. well, put myself out there LOL Task 1 accomplished, my parents got to the next step - spreading the word. In a few days time, I was setup for my first official chaha pohe program. Thankfully, that was the only one during that trip.

It so happened that one of the families that lived a few blocks over from where I live happened to know someone else who were also looking to get their daughter married. Stage set! A convenient date was blocked and we decided to meet over at our few-blocks-over-neighbours place. This soon became the butt of all jokes as soon as the neighbours son found out what was going on. That he was at our place everyday did not help! My brother, cousin and he ganged up against me to cash in on this opportunity to pull my leg to all of their hearts content. I tried to take it all in stride, shamelessly :P

In more ways than one, calling for an arranged marriage is like putting your weapons down while fighting and accepting defeat. Bright readers please note that the weapons I mention here are metaphorical. I don't know what signals we are sending to our parents when we do this. Is it:
a> Yea, you're gonna hafta take care of this thing too. Might as well get started.
b> Alright, I give up. Nothing happened for the last X years, do you expect miracles overnight?
c> You can tell I'm not much of a ladies man. But that doesnt mean I'm gay!
d> I'm sooo obedient and moral-debt stricken and I value my culture and traditions. I'll get married to whomsoever you want me to.
e> All of the above
f> None of the above

Whatever option you choose, truth be told, your parents have a job cut out for them.

Interestingly enough, the other day I had a conversation with my manager and when I explained the concept of how arranged marriages are set up, he went "Huh, so thats more like an assisted marriage." I voiced over as strong a protest as I possibly could against calling it assisted. At the same time I couldnt help but wonder whether arranged marriage was a euphemism for the singles' sake.

Anywho, getting back on track, on D-day around 5-ish we headed over to our neighbours place when we were informed that ladkiwaale aa gaye hai. I walked in to see a bunch of unfamiliar uncles and aunties and two girls who looked of marriageable age. As I sat down I was thinking, doesnt really matter who's who I gotta get out of here quick! Then the families were introduced to each other and I found out that the not-so-prettier of the two was who was out to get married and the slightly better looking one was her sister. With introductions also came first round of refreshments. Traditionally, I think this used to be limbu sarbat/panha or some such. We were served Coke. I usually stay away from pop and so I had to get me a glass of water. Not very surprisingly, it illicited comments about how these days people are more health conscious and yada yada yada.

After that it was time to play 'oh I know this guy, we went to school together' between the 2 dads. So they managed to play catchup on old times and found out that they did have quite a few common friends. In the meantime, I was pestering mom to get me out of that place. While this was going on, aunty served us pohe. Now first of all I'm not at all a pohe guy, I like upma better and second, I had long given up the good ole' habit of high tea that the British had passed down onto us desis and had caught up with breakfast over the last 5 years. My point being, I was not hungry and I was being served a non-favorite dish. So, much to chef aunty's chagrin, I managed to clip a lot of pohe off my plate and took my own sweet time to get through them so no one would bother to serve me a second helping.

During this time, aunty suggested that the girl and I could get together to have a small talk without the rest of them bothering us. I managed to fend that awkwardly since I wasn't really interested (what is that they say 'If beauty is on the inside, I'd rather see you inside out'. Yea, it was kinda like that, not so bad, but almost) After finishing off the pohe, the girl's mom once again suggested that the girl and I get together for a chat. Refusing the second time would've been really rude so I walked out onto the patio much against my wishes, knowing not what I was going to talk. If I was genuinely interested I could've bothered to come up with some questions; since I wasn't at all, I decided not to tax my brain. We talked for about 10 minutes, talked as in the girl kept bombarding questions and I kept answering/ducking for cover, and then headed back in. I think I kinda made 'not interested' clear with my lackadaisical attitude during this time.

No chaha pohe program is ever complete without chaha and shortly later, piping hot tea was served. I couldnt refuse tea. Tea, for a lazy instant coffee drinker like me, is luxury; if prepared by someone else and handed over - supreme! More generic discussions on socio-political issues between all parents followed while sipping on tea and I was stuck in awe of how the clock could move really slow at such times. Another half hour later, the saga ended and I merrily trooped back home.