Double standard

Posted: October 1, 2013 in House full, The Bloke and I
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Few months ago, The Bloke and I attended a cousin’s wedding.  While my mom stomped her feet and declared that I should wear a saree, the dress code was relaxed very much for The Bloke. No worn out jeans, was the only rule he had to abide by. But then I couldn’t let him revel in that and so I pushed him to don a Dhoti. Having never worn it, he was quite diffident about it but then I cajoled him – “How tougher could it get? Just wrap around and you can even wear a belt” I said.  The belt did the magic and he was lured.  one of his friends loaned him a Mundu and also provided him with instruction to “wrap” it around.  We thought we were all set for the wedding but then there were few glitches in the plan. The wedding was supposed to be a early morning one held in the bride’s ancestral place while the bus in which we had booked tickets would drop us almost at the same time but in a different town, Karaikudi which is almost hundred kilometers from the wedding venue. We couldn’t do much about it but this meant we had to stay at a hotel in Karaikudi and I had to drape the saree on my own and the last time I had tried draping, I had got it perfectly right but something looked amiss and after thirty minutes of brain storming, The Bloke pointed out that I had draped the Saree on the wrong side!  So I ended up saving few pictures of “How to drape a saree” on The Bloke’s mobile for emergency. Okay, who am I kidding? Those pictures were my guide!

The previous day when we had to catch the bus, we were at our best by which I mean we had surpassed all our previous levels of disorderliness and  I was very sure that the bus would be late and for once, The Bloke agreed to go by my estimate. Half way through the traffic, it started drizzling which usually is just a coincidence but then if it is Bangalore, it is just the way of life or rather the “way of evening life” and just yet another reason for the traffic to double up.  We were stranded for a long time and after much drama, we stepped  into the bus.

Karaikudi is a small town and though you may not fall in love with it immediately, there is something quite comforting  and inviting about the place and people. Probably, that is the case with every small town. Or with every small town where you have your heart set.

After arriving at the hotel, we were on our mission and surprisingly, accomplished it in lightening speed with few flaws. The Bloke had tied the Dhoti perfectly, albeit tightly and he ended up limping. My attempts at coaxing him to tie it once again went futile. I gave up and we set on our hundred kilometer journey.

After what seemed to be a little over an hour, with the help of passerby, we reached the venue. I spotted my parents as I emerged out of the car lugging yards of fabric. My mom was elated.  I had never seen my mom that happy. No, not even when I had got my first job. Nor when she sets her eyes on myriad of colorful  sarees in Pothys.  I was exhilarated looking at her elated state.  I commended myself for having thought of the pictures beforehand. As I sauntered towards her in a daze, she headed straight to The Bloke. “This looks great on you”, she gushed. I readied myself for my turn and I went and joined The Bloke. My mom shot a glance of “intense disapproval” at me and said I hadn’t tied the saree well.

Hmph! I wondered if I should point out that The Bloke was actually finding it too hard to walk in his looks-great-on-you attire. But then my tummy growled and I feasted on a plethora of dishes neatly laid on fresh plantain leaf while The Bloke  fumbled with many of them trying to figure out what they were and with his preoccupation of what was on his plate or on his leaf in this case, missed out on second serving of the best dishes. Serves him right!

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Comments
  1. swati says:

    But now Alok will have to wear it each time has has to attend a wedding to keep MIL happy 😀

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