It Wasn't Love at First Shalini and I (3 page)

I would generally lose interest in what she was saying after around
15 minutes, and she did not even expect me to respond. There were
no questions in between, all I had to do was show some surprise at
times, pity at other times, and happiness at some other. I used to do
this while watching reruns of ‘Friends’ and after around 45 minutes
(it had started with 5 minutes) she would call it a day and

goto sleep. She needed atleast 8 hours of sleep to keep her skin
glowing. I really did not mind that. I needed atleast eight hours of
sleep to keep my head going.

So this was what life had become now. Monotonous, dull, a little
boring, with Kriti providing a brief spark at times, and adding to the
monotony at others. It was not that I was being singled out for such
a life. All people my age, who were married or were about to be
married, or were even thinking of marriage, were in a similar situation.
Love marriage or arranged, it really did not matter. Slowly other
people around you started vanishing and your spouse became your
only companion. I did not know whether it was good or bad but
this is what was happening and I was not doing anything to stop it,
not that I wanted to. Not that I could.

The marriage functions were to start in the next few weeks. The
engagement was the first to come and as the day came nearer, the
excitement in Kriti was palpable. There was no such feeling from my
side, but I guess she made up for both of us. We were to be engaged
in a banquet hall of a decent hotel in Delhi and around a week before
the actual date, my parents came to Delhi for all the arrangements. I
also took a week off from work. In that way work was good, there
was no issue around holidays. Kriti took two off. She would take
around a month off for our wedding and the honeymoon which she
had been planning since the time we had started talking. She had
apparently picked some country in Europe which I could not even
spot on a map. I was okay with it. Not that I had a choice.

At times I wondered that was I even ready to be married, and at
times I wondered whether I was even a part of the whole marriage,
because honestly it did not seem so- I had absolutely no say.

I asked Hari the same question over drinks one day, when we were
both pretty high. He looked me straight in the eye and said “Even I am
not yet ready for marriage. And I even have a kid. I don’t think even he
is ready for marriage. I mean, I don’t think I would be ready for marriage
even when he gets married. You get what I mean right? Men......”

He then stood up to address everyone in the bar, not that anyone
was listening, not that anyone really cared about two middle aged
drinking men.

“Men are never ready to be married. That is the way we have been
made. We are only ready to drink.” He said this and finished his
drink in one go. Or atleast he tried to finish it in one go.

He took a couple of sips and then quietly sat down and said in my
ear. “I had promised my wife I will not be drunk and come home.
She says it leaves a bad impression on the kid. I said that the kid
cannot differentiate between the toilet and my lap yet. He really would
not mind a drunk daddy. And then, she said that it leaves a bad
impression on the kid. But this time” he made a hand gesture and
spread out his arms as wide as he could. “This time, she said it in a
loud voice.”

His voice tone also became loud while he was saying this. And
then he spoke like a little mouse in a loud whispering tone “And I
had to listen. But you bloody dog made me drink so much. I am
going to complain about you to her.”

He said this, and did finish the rest of the contents in one long
swish. I missed the old Hari. The Hari who would puke every time
he would get drunk. I missed the old Hari, not the puking, but I
looked at him and could see myself very well playing the same part.
I guess we were not 25 anymore. We had to grow up. He had grown,
it was now my turn. And I guess I was ready to be married. I could
lead my life the way my wife wanted. What the hell, I was already
doing that with the gym and the weekend shopping and the Italian
food and Subway dinners. Plus, when I was married I would get to
sleep with her as well. Didn’t sound that bad. In fact, it was better
than what was happening right now.

Just then Hari got up and rushed to the toilet to puke. He had not
changed, he was still the same old Hari. He had managed well and so
would I.

Hari came back. He had done what he gone to do and had splashed
water all over his face to look a little alive. “Do I look drunk?” He
was supposed to ask me this question but he went to the next table
and asked.

There was a couple sitting there. “Wait, when I had gone to the
loo, you were sitting alone. And now, you are with a girl. And
wait, this girl” he pointed at the girl not with his finger but with
his whole hand “This girl does not look like Kriti. Not bad man,
you found another girl. Good for you. Don’t worry, I will not tell
Kriti.”

He was laughing and patting the back of the guy who was sitting
on the other table. The guy on the table was perplexed. But more
was the girl sitting with him. She shouted at the guy “Who the hell is
Kriti.” Hari spoke up. “Didn’t he tell you. They are getting engaged
next week and married in four months. The whole world knows
about it. Kriti has made sure everyone knows about it. How come
don’t you know?”

He signalled to the waiter and asked “You know right this guy is
getting married to Kriti?” The guy didn’t know what to say. The girl
started blabbering and shouting and cursing when I had to intervene.
“Sorry sir, ma’am. This is my friend and I apologise for what he has
done. Actually, we are sitting on the table next to you and he is a
little high so sir, he mistook you to be me and I am getting married
to Kriti so ma’am there is no need to worry for you.”

I said that and we left it to the couple to sort out their discussion.
Hari sat in front of me and gave a smile. I spoke. “You bastard. You
knew it was someone else. You played them on just like we used to.”

“Yes you bloody asshead. But unlike earlier times, where you used
to join me in the fun and put the poor guy in more trouble, this time
you actually saved him.”

“I thought you really made a mistake this time. You are really
drunk.”

“Dude, what do you think? I want my son to see a drunk daddy
when I get home? I am a little drunk but I now know how to control
myself so that I can behave myself in front of the little dude. I love
him man. And I tell you a little secret.” Hari came really close to me
“I love him more than I love you.”

That last secret really meant something. The two of us had been
inseparable since the time college had started and what we shared was
much much more than mere friendship. I looked at Hari and noticed
a change. A change for the better. I knew he was drunk and would
never be able to get sober before he got home, but I knew he really
wanted to.

And that mattered.

 

And then I was really ready. I was ready to take the path Hari had
taken and had walked on pretty well so far.

The next few weeks passed in a breeze and the day was finally here.
It was the day I was to be engaged. An engagement is usually not that
big a function with only close friends and families invited. My
engagement was no different. I was wearing a formal three piece suit
and my bride to be was wearing a red lehenga. Red really did go well
with her, it goes well with fair skin and she was as fair as they get. She
was looking out of the world beautiful.

All my uncles and aunties from my town and some of my friends
from college and work were there and it felt pretty good standing on
an elevated stage with a beautiful woman next to me. It was a sense
of achievement of sorts. Some of them might have a better job than
me, might be earning more than me, but I had the prettiest wife! I
think Hari understood the look which I was giving. His wife was
also very pretty and he would have felt the same I guess.

He came upto me, gave me a hug and said in a my ear. “Don’t
worry dude, after a few days, even Madhuri Dixit becomes boring.”

He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye and we both burst out
laughing. He somehow looked as if he had had alcohol but there
were no traces of that anywhere near. He stood around while Kriti
introduced me to her extended family. He offered me his glass of
Coke. I said no. After two minutes he again offered it to me and
whispered in my ear “After a few sips, even Coke tastes like vodka.”
He winked at me. “And after a few sips of vodka, even aunties look
like angels.”

I quickly took the glass from him and gulped it down in one go.
I think it had more alcohol in it than the Coke but it made me feel
good. All of a sudden, I had a bigger smile on my face. I really did
feel happy.

The time came and we exchanged rings. She had selected a pretty
expensive one for herself. It had made my wallet lighter by around
Rs. 1.5 lakhs. She said that with the ever rising prices of metal and
rock, this was to be thought of as an investment rather than a gift. If
I had used that amount of investment on my car, I would be driving
around with a much bigger boot but that was besides the point.
Plus, the ring which her parents had selected for me was not bad
either. It had cost them around 2 lakh rupees but in India if you are
father to a girl, get ready to spend ridiculous amount of money for
your son in law.

The ring exchanging part took us a long time. She wanted it to be
done in a typical English wedding style, minus the kissing the bride
part of course. Hari posed as my best man, a drunk best man who
had tried, and in fact mildly succeeded in making the groom drunk,
and she surprisingly had her room mate, about whom she could not
stop complaining day in day out, as her bridesmaid. I could not
understand it. Maybe it was to make her feel jealous that Kriti was
now getting married and her roommate was still single. I really could
not understand girls. Plus, it was not that Kriti was getting engaged
to her beloved Shah Rukh Khan, she was getting engaged to me!
Why the jealousy?

So the rituals of our engagement were played out in the form of a
traditional English marriage. There was no priest but there was a
pandit who was overlooking the proceedings and not looking very
happy about it. Unlike the usual marriages, where he used to speak
Sanskrit shlokas which no one understood, here he was to read lines
written by Kriti herself.

He started with the lines and asked Hari to come forward and
hand me the ring. Hari was lost gazing at something on the ceiling. I
think he had a little too much of the Coke. A little push from my
mother helped and he came forward, there was music and he did an
impromptu jig, went down on one knee and handed me the ring. I
had been scared all this while that he was handling such an expensive
thing but finally I had it in my hands. I saw his wife with their kid
staring at him. I knew he would get all this back when he reached
home. A big smile appeared on my face. Maybe I too had too much
of the Coke.

Next it was Nidhi, Kriti’s roommate’s turn to hand her the ring.
There was again the music but there was no jig from Nidhi. She just
walked up, gave the ring to Kriti and went back, without even a hint
of a thing called a smile or emotion. But here reaction led to a big
smile on Kriti’s face. She had succeeded in mission ‘jealousy.’ Girls.

Kriti really wanted to take the traditional Christian route so now
it was the time for the wedding vows. Hari had helped me prepare
mine, in fact, he had prepared mine, so I did not expect any miracles.
It was decided that Kriti would read them first and I would follow.
But she apparently got stage fright and nudged me to go first. And
then I got stage fright.

All of a sudden, all eyes were on me. All this while, all the eyes had
been on Kriti as she was the one who was looking so breathtakingly
beautiful and I was the lucky one who just happened to be there to
complete the couple. But now, everyone was staring at me. And I
had to speak.

I had memorised the lines a million times. I wanted to surprise
Kriti with the vows. I knew I could not really write anything
worthwhile, so I had thought that I might as well memorise the lines
instead of reading them from a sheet of paper. But I was standing on
the stage shell shocked for a complete ten seconds with every eye on
me. Even the panditji, who was looking haggard so far, looked at me
with expecting eyes.

Then I looked at Hari. He was for some reason pointing at his
chest. I then remembered that as an afterthought, he had out the
piece of paper along with my handkerchief in the breast pocket of
my three piece. He really was the ‘best’ man. He had saved the day. I
then confidently took out the sheet of paper. I opened it and tore it
into pieces and I started.

“You know what Kriti, I had written a lot of romantic things on
this piece of paper. But honesty, all those were just words, words
which made me look good and made you look pretty. They were
words which would lead to some ‘awws’ and ‘ohhs’ from the girls
here in the crowd, but they are more a result of google search on
wedding wows by me and my great friend Hari rather than what I
really think about you.”

Hari waved to the crowd as if he had completed a test century and
got another look from his wife.

“So let me start with the real reasons on why I am marrying you.
Let me speak straight from the heart, and as you say, I don’t really do
that very often, so let me try here. First of all, Kriti, I have known
you for more than four months now and honestly speaking, I was a
little unsure of marriage when we met. It was not about you, it was
this feeling that every guy gets before he settles into a life of lifelong
commitment. But with each passing day, as I got to know you, I
realised that this was the reason I was still 30 years old and not married.
All my life I had been waiting for you.”