Rocking in the Free World

Well, I made up the other stories part so you’d start reading, but I wouldn’t hold it against you if you were to just close the window.

So, on Saturday evening, I left Bangalore for Mangalore via train and returned on Monday morning. It had been almost two years since I had visited Mangalore, and that was in January 2007 for the wedding of a certain friend named Vinayak Kamath, during which time, some of us had walked like Egyptians as the photographer was busy clicking photos of the newly weds.

In the interim thereafter, there were two trips each to Bombay and Chennai, a few to Bylakuppe (as a day tripper), one to Gokarna, one trip to Seattle and I hadn’t had the time to visit Mangalore due to that. My cousin was getting married, and I thought that it was a convenient time to go put ‘O Hai’ to all my relatives.

Little did I realize what was in store for me……..

***

Tweety Boy: For some time during the wedding, I was bored to death. I am used to keeping quiet and being by myself, but I am usually taking a dump, reading a book, watching TV, surfing the net, cycling or something or the other. I thought it would be bad manners to take a book to the wedding, and hence was left with nothing except my wallet, my mobile and my hand-kerchief.

Somehow, if one is too extroverted, some relatives would get the feeling that the person was high, and if one spoke very little, they’d conclude that the person had major attitude.

Hence, I deigned to tweet like my life depended on it. Arbit tweet after arbit tweet followed relentlessly from my mobile, and the result can be seen here. As I remarked on twitter, weddings bring out the socially awkward introvert in me. Otherwise, I’m just usually socially awkward.

***

Mysore Platform: The train to Mangalore had to pass through Mysore. There is some vague reason for this, and I have been a bit lazy to find out precisely why. However, it so happened that there was a 30 minute stop-over both on the onward and return journey, and I woke up both times and paced around on the platform.

It most certainly felt weird that home was so close by, but I wasn’t able to go.

***

Linked List of Functions: So, Mangalore is where most of my relatives are. My folks were among the crazy ones who left the relative comforts of Mangalore to head towards pristinely beautiful, calm and peaceful Mysore. I thank God for that. There is no place like Mysore.

However, this move has resulted in us being sporadic visitors to the plethora of functions conducted there. Ever since I started work in 2004, I have noticed that my family or I end up co-ordinating our visits to functions to conform to mutual exclusivity, and put attendance, unless it is a very important function and our collective presence is mandatory.

However, all my other relatives in Mangalore attend so many functions that my mind is boggled by it all. They resume conversations on meeting each other, as if they stopped in the middle to take a leak or have some juice. Everyone talks to everyone else, they all recognize each other and there is extreme bonding.

I have realized that these functions are all a linked list of sorts, and if you don’t end up attending a few, you’re as good as ostracized from them and the only way to claw back into their good books is to get married or spend extensive time in Mangalore, neither of which is on the anvil for quite some time to come.

***

Wedding Attire: Before my friend’s wedding in Jaunary 2007, I had a khadi kurta that I used to wear to weddings with jeans. It was the best ever, and its comfort was unparalleled. However, no matter how much it was ironed, there was nothing to make it look less shabby when one put it on.

Not that it mattered much to me, but my Mum used to think that if her son looked more like a vagabond, it would make them think badly of our family in general.

Hence, before this Jan 2007 wedding, I had been out with two good friends of mine to Fab India in Koramangala to pick up a kurta. I settled in on an INR 800 blue long kurta, which has now become my standard attire for all weddings and other functions. So far, I’ve worn it eight times already, and if I am able to wear it atleast twelve times more, I’d consider it as being decent value for money.

Thereafter, I can use it as a night shirt to sleep in. The only downside of this is that if at all I do end up appearing in different wedding pictures with the lucky couple, I’d be looking the same, unless my hair is in different stages of unkemptness.

***

Remember Me ?: One of the most common questions I was asked during this wedding by the attendees was, ‘O Hai! You rememberz me?’ or something to that effect. The very few relatives I’d been in constant touch with thankfully didn’t ask me that.

To compound my misery in retrospect, I asked a few people the very same question when they presented a cow look when I had smiled at them. I also noticed that most of the ‘Do you remember?’ questions invariably went unanswered. Thankfully for my Grammaw who patiently explained in simple language I was connected to aforesaid person. On one occasion, she told me not to bother how, and I was quite glad about that.

The one thing that relatives had told me on multiple previous occasions when I had seen them about how thin I had become was not said this time at all. I think it is a good thing. I think it has to do with the Fab India kurta, which somehow didn’t make me look like a walking coat hanger.