Once in my dreams, I got married to a girl.
Yes… How-so -ever odd it may seem, but you-know-who has always been inflicted with stranger than strange mishaps. And analyzing some past few years and months of his life, he has finally recognized their cause, the reason being very simple in perspective but very hard to relate. So he doesn’t prefer explaining them to strangers..
So in that inconsequential dream, the actor cum villain was proposed by his considerate parents to get married. After hearing the proposition, he got comfortably dumb. Or numb, or whatever it is… He flatly replied in the negative because he was still very young and needed some more time to ‘grow up’. The parents counter argued that that had been the same reason which made them think about his early marriage. They said that he would understand his ‘responsibilities’ after getting married. The boy proposed that by ‘growing up’ he meant getting a hefty job under a meek boss. (Or vice versa?) Well, the discussion continued till evening until when the parents decided to show ‘the photograph’ which made the boy decide to mark an end to the discussion forthwith.
In any form of argument, it is always desirable that either of the parties get convinced. The futility of any discussion dissolves in this boundless space time if it is not properly concluded, and that particular situation seemed to me an absolute mishandling of my precious time. So, you know, I said: “kabir ji kehte hain, kaal kare so aaj kar, aur phir kabhi na kabhi kabhi to karni hai.” And hence the boy agreed, in his still tender age, to marry and took the photograph from his then happy parents.
It is a seldom accepted fact that people spend most of their ‘facebook’ and ‘orkut’ times in browsing through the photo albums of their sexual counterparts. Boys like to see the pictures of girls and girls, like to see the pictures of boys. It is omnipresent, and I don’t hesitate in accepting this. There is nothing wrong in this. Or is there?… Whatever, but hey, are ye sirf sapna hai meri maa, aur phir wo photo tera hi to tha…(meant for HER 😛 ).
And the very next moment, I was there, in the mandap, standing with a garland in both hands, ready to put it over the bride’s head. Then there was a boring and naak mein dum kar dene wala duaon. There were the bride’s wailing father and crying mother. You know, all the usual stuff, that rona dhona, aur phir sukhana… pata nahi kaise bitaye wo lamhe, sapne mein bhi…I was waiting for the last ‘rite’… that imminent ‘golden’ moment, that… you know what I am talking about, eh??… (a wicked grin)
I was sitting on the bed. With my kurta and payjama on. She came inside the room, escorted by some ever chirruping girls and, with a glass of milk in her hands. I smiled at her. But she did not. Are bhai: Ghoonghat ki aad mein dilbar kaa…didaar adhuraa rehta hai. So, we were there, the newlywed couple. In that ostentatiously decorated room; ready to…you know….
To be Contn…