Hi…I am Priya and it is my birthday today…
Birthdays are supposed to be happy right?? Is mine happy?? Hmmm…read my story to find out…
And yes before you begin with my story I must tell you that I would have grumbled a lot (I am like that only now) and made unnecessary detours in my story. If you are ready for it, then read on….
I, like most of you, belong to the “middle class”. The working class of India. The spineless spine of this great country. There are three subdivisions amongst us. The upper middle class, the lower middle class and the middle middle class. The upper middle class are close to being rich but are not rich. The lower middle class are close to being poor and will become one eventually. The middle middle class is one which aspires to become an upper middle class. It becomes one when a son goes to America and never comes back. They could also downgrade to lower middle class when they blow up their life savings for a daughter’s marriage, like my family did for me.
“Marriage is a mirage…It wld tempt you from a distance but you wld find nothing when you reach there” my friend Kavi messaged back when I sent her a sms saying that a prospective groom was coming to ogle at me. Kavi’s was a love marriage. She left her parents, her job and her friends for him. He left her 8 months after the marriage. She came back to her parents.
“Oooooo, m soooooooooo haaaaaaapy for uuuuuu J J” howled back Aditi’s message. Aditi was that kind of a girl who was good looking, intelligent, smart and bold. That type which guys would want to hang out with. She got atleast half a dozen proposals in every wedding or such social functions she attended. She must have got about 100 proposals till date from her friends, friend’s friends, classmates, our college lecturers, colleagues, and bosses. In our school and college days she used to read out all the love letters she got. They used to laugh at some, said choo cute at some. I laughed when they laughed, said what they said, I dint know what else to do. I had not got a single love letter in my life.
Ravi came that evening, wearing expensive clothes and heavy perfume. He had this permanent smile on his baby face. Everyone in my family were impressed at the first sight of him. Upper middle class. He had come with his father and a talkative “athai”. His mother had expired when he was 14. (No mother-in law problem for you, as one of my aunt later remarked). He made some jokes which had everyone from my side in splits. (OH PLEASE, IT WAS NOT THAT FUNNY) Whatever he said or did impressed my side. His father had a non expressive face and seemed totally disinterested in the happenings around him.
“Can I take Priya out for dinner tonight” he asked my parents.
My dad, who usually forbids me to go out in the night readily consented. I wanted to tell, Appa, you have not allowed me to go out with my classmates and colleagues whom even you have known for years, but today you are ready to let me go with this fellow whom we hardly know for the past two hours. I kept quite. I guess he had already relinquished his duty as my protector, my man, henceforth.
He took me to a restaurant whose name was in French. It was dimly lit and was half filled with sophisticated looking couples. I hated the place. He seemed to know everyone in the hotel though right from the usher to the server (waiter, as he corrected me). He ordered some half boiled things, ate with a fork, taught me how to use one. He dint seem to be shy at all. He spoke to me as if he had known me all his life. He talked lots about him, his work. Then he started questioning me. He asked about my school (St. Teresa), my college (SG College of Engineering), my office (PeopleSoft Technologies), my friends (Kavi, Aditi…What no guys? Vikram; This guy Vikram, where does he work? USA. Oh USA eh, good good), my perfume (What!! You don’t wear any perfume!! Impossible!!).
So what ice-cream does my cutey puppy want for dessert? He asked.
I am not a dog, I wanted to tell. Thanks. I don’t eat sweets and ice-creams, I said.
Oh which girl does not like ice-creams and chocolates?
I said nothing.
Ok fine. Waiter, check please.
We left the restaurant.
So how do you go to your office daily? He asked reducing the volume of Eminem who was yelling abuses.
Office bus and auto sometimes.
After our marriage I will drop you daily in my car. He said.
Oh you have decided to marry me?
Yes, have you not?
I don’t know!!
Well, relax honey. I can understand your hesitation. You have nothing to fear about me. You are in safe hands.
He took my hands. It took me a second to realize his touch. I have not felt this before. It felt good.
I looked at him. He smiled genuinely.
When I reached home, I realized my parents had already decided the engagement date. I tell you parents become completely different when there is a marriage in the household. They become much sweeter and patient. They smile at you regularly and become elated if the boy calls up. I overheard my mom once telling to her sister proudly about how often Ravi calls up.
Engagement came three weeks later. He showered us with expensive gifts. He gave me jeans, tees, ring and a perfume bottle. He told my dad that he will bear 50% of the marriage expenses (of course that remained as mere words, he never spoke about it again and nor did my dad handover his share of bill to him. Never believe a marketing guy). Marriage was fixed one month later. So soon.
Why have you not worn the jeans and t-shirt I gave? he asked one day
I thought I will wear it during our honeymoon. I said
Hahaha why should we be wearing anything during our honeymoon!!
There he goes again with his dirty talks. I hate it when he does that. I once asked my friend about it, she said all men are like that only. They try to pass a lewd comment whenever they get a chance.
And the perfume? He asked.
I told you I don’t use perfumes.
I think he swore something.
So what is your salary? He asked too casually.
I was prepared for this question. One of my colleagues had already warned me about this.
Rs.22000 pm I lied smoothly. I had decided to give half of my salary to my parents.
What? Only that much?? I thought you computer fellows are paid much more.
In these recession times, many of us don’t even know whether we will get our salary slips or pink slips.
Hmmm…he said .I knew he was not convinced.
—-
Hey have you applied for any credit card?? My HR manager asked me.
No!! Why??
Well some fellow from a credit card company called and told he wanted to cross check your salary details.
Ravi. Damn. I thought. Did you tell him? I asked.
Of course not..We are not supposed to disclose any details to outsiders. She said.
Ok good good. I said. I don’t know why I felt happy in cheating him.
Two weeks before the marriage I was convinced that Ravi was not the man for me. My instincts told me that he was faking up many things. I told my mother about it. She dismissed it as mere nervousness and said every woman feels the same way before marriage. I did not have the guts to tell it to my dad who was ever busy with the marriage preparations. I also had a counseling session from a cousin who got recently married. She said she understood my position very well. Even she had undergone the same emotions and fears. But post marriage how happy and contend she was.
It did boost up my confidence a bit. Of course, I had no other option than to hope for the best.
Marriage was tomorrow.
I am lighting up the candles now. For (as you would have guessed by now) the story gets darker from here.
END OF PART I
