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The Cat In The Box
Are you sure about this beta?" She questions me while straightening my dupatta.
"Yes, I am sure Maa. It will all be perfect," I reply while giving her a confident smile.
"This color really suits you," My mother compliments me on my color choice.
"And you were the one saying who wears dark color on weddings?" I reply instantly.
She doesn't respond with her usual sarcastic comment.
I look at her in the mirror. She is a tad shorter than me. I can see fresh wrinkles around her eyes and her hands now have more prominent veins than before. She is aging before my eyes. Her small brow is crinkled. She is worrying and overthinking again.
"Maa what is the matter now?" I scoff.
" It’s too soon. You are too young for all this. All this marriage and family business is not your cup of tea," She finally spoke about it.
"Family has been my cup of tea since dad passed away 4 years back Maa. And besides I am 19 now. I know what I am doing. Just trust me."
" I trust you, beta but what about him??"
I know she is talking about the groom. Yes, I know it’s all too soon and it’s not the perfect relationship. I met him a year back when I started learning about the internet and all those dating sites on it.
He was the most boring person ever, didn't know how to order in a restaurant, hated traveling, and he was from the Army. The one's who takes pride in his 'bloody civilians' catchphrase.
The day he met mum was a havoc. It was worse than a terrorist interrogation.
She hated him at the first sight.
“He drinks tea, has eaten non-veg, is from the Army, studying to become a lawyer - an army lawyer, you do realize our house will turn into a military base, don't you?”
She questioned him for hours, rejected him at every step, until he was immune to her rantings.
He started helping in a patriarchy-free family - would help me in all the things that I couldn't fix. Knowing how to drive a car was a cherry on top.
When both you and your mom don't know how to drive, this planet is a living hell. I know she hasn't stepped in an auto after he started driving her to and from office. It is a hate love relationship but she doesn't exactly hate him.
"He has been married before, beta," Maa’s words brought me back to reality.
"He has two kids- two boys," I can see she is about to cry.
Oh! the cat in the box. She created ruckus over the fact that he has been married before, with kids. I knew about the first marriage and about the divorce. He has been separated from his wife for quite some time. They had nothing to do with him and likewise from his side.
People deserve to go their separate ways when a relationship is difficult to handle. It saves the kids from horrible memories, I believe.
"Yes, I know he does," I fix my lipstick
"But he is divorced, Maa and the kids don't live with him, do they? They live with their mother."
"But divorced?"
"Maa, I don't need to remind you again that we would have been so much happier if you would have divorced dad instead of just lugging around for 17 years. I could have been spared from all the fights," I am angry and fuming now.
My father was the most handsome and strongest man I ever knew. He attracted attention wherever he went. He knew how to hold a crowd- people would just lap up anything he said like elixir and he was an infidel. My mum stayed in the shadows, while he shined in the front and no one knew the better of his deeds. When he died, everyone consoled us, but my mum didn't need sympathies. She needed someone to teach her how to manage her finances when all she had was empty bank accounts and a lot of debt that my charming father had piled up for her.
"Maa, we will be fine. He is not a bad person" I try to break the chain of thoughts and repair the damage done.
"Yes, you know better. What do I know besides pay for your whims and fantasies," A tear rolled down from her left eye and fell on the pallu of her Kanjivaram saree.
She has at least 30 such sarees, all ready for her successor a.k.a Me, and all of them are approximately 27 years old.
"You look great in a saree," I hug her close. Her head reaches just below my chin.
" You should have worn one, too. These suits and all don't look good at functions," she sniffs.
I look at her as she tries to hold back her tears of emotion. Her chin starts quivering as she tries to hold it in and wipe her tears, unsuccessfully.
"I didn't imagine all of this happening like this," she chokes out. "No one is in the hall out there. Not our family, not your grandparents, No one will support this."
"Well they haven't supported us in quite a while, have they?" I question back. "And besides it’s just been us. always us. And now him, too"
"We will be left out- your sister, you, me. the society doesn’t accept this kind of thing, you know this."
"We are a family without a male head of the family. And you are worried about us getting thrown out of the society? We have been outcast for a while now, Maa," I am smiling now.
"What about your sister?"
"Well she will figure something out, too"
As if on cue, my sister enters the room, "Guys! It’s time."
"Yes, we are ready. How do we look?"
"Great. Just hurry up. I hate these events," She is the exact opposite of my mother and myself. I always joke that she has been adopted- with her height so tall and lean and dark complexion she looks like a model instead like us chubby women.
"Lead the way," I shout as we exit.
The hall is small and empty. No one came. Honestly, I didn't have the nerve to invite anyone. No one would want to come to this wedding. I know what they all think. I know what you are thinking. But I stopped giving a damn a while back.
I look at the mandap. He is sitting on the groom’s side. Tall and dark with pepper-salt hair, wrinkles around eyes and age trying to sweep in with the small paunch on his otherwise lean body.
"Please call the bride," Punditji speaks in a commanding tone.
"It’s show time ladies," I call out to my family of three.
We walk towards the mandap. Maa is holding my hand firmly as my sister holds my other hand.
"Here is the bride." I announce and help my mother sit on the bride's side. My stepfather-to-be looks at her and smiles. She looks scared and he looks anxious.
"Is anyone of you going to puke?" I ask as I sit on the family side along with my sister.
"Aren't you a little young to be our parent?" he jokes
" You wish! you will have to touch my feet after ceremony you know," I joke as he hands me a DSLR camera to record the event.
As the ceremony starts, I look at both of them following the instructions and settling a little. By the time it all ends my mum has a smile on her face.
"Congratulations, Maa. Now you have two stepsons, too," I joke as we prepare for a photo and she laughs out loud.
#WritcoAnthology
"Yes, I am sure Maa. It will all be perfect," I reply while giving her a confident smile.
"This color really suits you," My mother compliments me on my color choice.
"And you were the one saying who wears dark color on weddings?" I reply instantly.
She doesn't respond with her usual sarcastic comment.
I look at her in the mirror. She is a tad shorter than me. I can see fresh wrinkles around her eyes and her hands now have more prominent veins than before. She is aging before my eyes. Her small brow is crinkled. She is worrying and overthinking again.
"Maa what is the matter now?" I scoff.
" It’s too soon. You are too young for all this. All this marriage and family business is not your cup of tea," She finally spoke about it.
"Family has been my cup of tea since dad passed away 4 years back Maa. And besides I am 19 now. I know what I am doing. Just trust me."
" I trust you, beta but what about him??"
I know she is talking about the groom. Yes, I know it’s all too soon and it’s not the perfect relationship. I met him a year back when I started learning about the internet and all those dating sites on it.
He was the most boring person ever, didn't know how to order in a restaurant, hated traveling, and he was from the Army. The one's who takes pride in his 'bloody civilians' catchphrase.
The day he met mum was a havoc. It was worse than a terrorist interrogation.
She hated him at the first sight.
“He drinks tea, has eaten non-veg, is from the Army, studying to become a lawyer - an army lawyer, you do realize our house will turn into a military base, don't you?”
She questioned him for hours, rejected him at every step, until he was immune to her rantings.
He started helping in a patriarchy-free family - would help me in all the things that I couldn't fix. Knowing how to drive a car was a cherry on top.
When both you and your mom don't know how to drive, this planet is a living hell. I know she hasn't stepped in an auto after he started driving her to and from office. It is a hate love relationship but she doesn't exactly hate him.
"He has been married before, beta," Maa’s words brought me back to reality.
"He has two kids- two boys," I can see she is about to cry.
Oh! the cat in the box. She created ruckus over the fact that he has been married before, with kids. I knew about the first marriage and about the divorce. He has been separated from his wife for quite some time. They had nothing to do with him and likewise from his side.
People deserve to go their separate ways when a relationship is difficult to handle. It saves the kids from horrible memories, I believe.
"Yes, I know he does," I fix my lipstick
"But he is divorced, Maa and the kids don't live with him, do they? They live with their mother."
"But divorced?"
"Maa, I don't need to remind you again that we would have been so much happier if you would have divorced dad instead of just lugging around for 17 years. I could have been spared from all the fights," I am angry and fuming now.
My father was the most handsome and strongest man I ever knew. He attracted attention wherever he went. He knew how to hold a crowd- people would just lap up anything he said like elixir and he was an infidel. My mum stayed in the shadows, while he shined in the front and no one knew the better of his deeds. When he died, everyone consoled us, but my mum didn't need sympathies. She needed someone to teach her how to manage her finances when all she had was empty bank accounts and a lot of debt that my charming father had piled up for her.
"Maa, we will be fine. He is not a bad person" I try to break the chain of thoughts and repair the damage done.
"Yes, you know better. What do I know besides pay for your whims and fantasies," A tear rolled down from her left eye and fell on the pallu of her Kanjivaram saree.
She has at least 30 such sarees, all ready for her successor a.k.a Me, and all of them are approximately 27 years old.
"You look great in a saree," I hug her close. Her head reaches just below my chin.
" You should have worn one, too. These suits and all don't look good at functions," she sniffs.
I look at her as she tries to hold back her tears of emotion. Her chin starts quivering as she tries to hold it in and wipe her tears, unsuccessfully.
"I didn't imagine all of this happening like this," she chokes out. "No one is in the hall out there. Not our family, not your grandparents, No one will support this."
"Well they haven't supported us in quite a while, have they?" I question back. "And besides it’s just been us. always us. And now him, too"
"We will be left out- your sister, you, me. the society doesn’t accept this kind of thing, you know this."
"We are a family without a male head of the family. And you are worried about us getting thrown out of the society? We have been outcast for a while now, Maa," I am smiling now.
"What about your sister?"
"Well she will figure something out, too"
As if on cue, my sister enters the room, "Guys! It’s time."
"Yes, we are ready. How do we look?"
"Great. Just hurry up. I hate these events," She is the exact opposite of my mother and myself. I always joke that she has been adopted- with her height so tall and lean and dark complexion she looks like a model instead like us chubby women.
"Lead the way," I shout as we exit.
The hall is small and empty. No one came. Honestly, I didn't have the nerve to invite anyone. No one would want to come to this wedding. I know what they all think. I know what you are thinking. But I stopped giving a damn a while back.
I look at the mandap. He is sitting on the groom’s side. Tall and dark with pepper-salt hair, wrinkles around eyes and age trying to sweep in with the small paunch on his otherwise lean body.
"Please call the bride," Punditji speaks in a commanding tone.
"It’s show time ladies," I call out to my family of three.
We walk towards the mandap. Maa is holding my hand firmly as my sister holds my other hand.
"Here is the bride." I announce and help my mother sit on the bride's side. My stepfather-to-be looks at her and smiles. She looks scared and he looks anxious.
"Is anyone of you going to puke?" I ask as I sit on the family side along with my sister.
"Aren't you a little young to be our parent?" he jokes
" You wish! you will have to touch my feet after ceremony you know," I joke as he hands me a DSLR camera to record the event.
As the ceremony starts, I look at both of them following the instructions and settling a little. By the time it all ends my mum has a smile on her face.
"Congratulations, Maa. Now you have two stepsons, too," I joke as we prepare for a photo and she laughs out loud.
#WritcoAnthology
