Fatal Attraction

There are times when you end up meeting attractive, VERY ATTRACTIVE people during the groom hunting process.  I happened to connect with this guy Vikram (name changed). Yes, another IITian and top B-school passout, Punjabi, working in the financial sector. Sounded good to begin with.

His sense of humour was impeccable and the timing of his one-liners could not have been more apt. We had a series of conversations over phone. Each conversation made me feel more connected with him. He had a sarcastic attitude towards life. I quite liked that, he usually mocked at my conversations. It made me laugh instead of getting offended. My parents were not happy with me talking to a Punjabi guy. But, by now my dad knew that it is difficult to find guys in my community. He simply refused to acknowledge it.

My relationship with Vikram took a logical turn. We decided to meet for coffee after work in a suburban mall. It was planned impromptu because he was supposed to take off on a trip to Spain the other day. “Wow”, I exclaimed when he revealed his vacation plans to me. Images of Hrithik Roshan driving in Spain with his buddies flashed in my mind. I smiled to myself and looked forward to our meeting. I took extra efforts to dress that morning in charcoal grey well fitted trousers and pink sleeveless tunic. I added some oomph factor by slipping on a pair of black high heeled sandals. I glanced at the mirror and saw an elegant and stylish lady.

I reached the mall at 7.30 pm and he arrived five minutes later. To my surprise he was not good looking. He had a narrow build, small and squeaky eyes, was dressed in a pair of denims and a casual blue shirt with a pair of slippers. We settled ourselves on a comfy sofa in the coffee shop. We had some casual conversations about our work day, our bosses and the burgeoning mall culture in India. He offered to get coffee for us. My mind was flooded with past experiences of meeting guys. I brushed them aside and glanced at Vikram. He smiled at me and my lips curved in a smile.

What followed was a series of conversations over 3 cups of coffee. The conversation just flowed naturally between us. We spoke about anything and everything under the sun- movies, dates, relationships, personalities, families, corporate life. I was completely absorbed in this experience. I was enjoying every bit of it. At some point of time, I felt sexually attracted towards him. I tried to ignore the tension but it only grew stronger with each passing moment. None of us bothered to care about the passing hours. I lost track of the people around us. All I could see was him and all I could hear was us. I was laughing or smiling at every remark of his.

He was the first one to be jolted back to reality. He looked around and saw the staff cleaning and folding tables. Perhaps they sensed our chemistry and granted extra time to us. He led my gaze towards our surroundings and I shared his embarrassment. It was 10.45 pm. I hastily looked at my phone to check if my mother had called. My phone did not display any notifications and I smiled and thanked God for gifting me with a supportive Mom.  I must tell you that Moms are darlings. They may not voice their support for your desires or ambitions. But, they secretly and indirectly support you. My mom wanted me to be happy and that is all she cared about.

There was a moment of awkward silence as we looked at each other thinking what to do next. I stood up and picked up my bag and he followed me. We stepped on the escalator going down. The mall was largely empty. I was standing one step below Vikram with my body titled towards him and looking at him sideways. I had a strong urge to hug him and kiss him. This feeling had been dormant for a long time. I wanted him to grab my arms and sneak me into a corner to make out. “Is this a two-sided feeling?” is a question which is still unanswered.

He hailed a rickshaw for me outside the mall. I wanted him to stay and talk to me. With great efforts, I managed to say, “Have fun and enjoy your vacations, Bye”. He smiled and said “You take care”. I popped my head out of the rickshaw and said “Let’s talk once you are back”. Before I could see or hear his reaction, my rickshaw propelled like a rocket on the empty patch of road before joining the mainstream traffic.

My mind was racing with thoughts...

“How could I feel sexually attracted?”

“Is it right?”

“Would my date have ended differently if I was in US not in India?”

“Is sexual attraction a good reason to get married?”

“Can I go home and mark Vikram’s row as green in my tracker?”

“Will he remember me in Spain?”

I received a text from him the other day saying “It was nice meeting you, but I don’t think we are good for each other”. I wanted to stay connected with him but was not confident enough to express my desire.

To this date, his thoughts bring a smile to my face. I don’t know how he feels about the experience, does he remember me? I have his number on my phone but can’t gather enough courage to call/message him. 

Vikram, if you are reading this blog and still remember me, please call me. I will love to catch up with you again in the same coffee shop.

It's not gender bashing!

There are barely four posts up there on this blog.

Of these two are real life narratives from a close friend.

Though edited by me, (sometimes in a state of aghastedness, if there was ever such a word!) I know for a fact that they are real life because they have been narrated to me by close friends from a younger generation!

And as I put it out there I am getting more and more stories in.

And more comments. 

And more aghastedness.

Do you have a story to tell? 

About the guy you met who wanted you to work but also wanted you to cook, look after his parents, socialise, be at home by 6 pm (in Mumbai) not travel for work and share in the family expenses? 

It's not gender bashing. Yet today's men can be demanding! And totally unrealistic. Let's hold a mirror up to them.

Tell me your stories and I'll put them up here for all to see. 

And remember, this is fact NOT fiction. 

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I want to reiterate, I DO NOT write these posts Only curate the stories that come to me. 

The perfectly imperfect guy!

I was well settled in my career, enjoying life and still healing wounds of my broken relationship from college. My parents decided that it is time for me to get married. Honestly, I was also excited with the idea of creating a profile on matrimonial site and finding my soul mate. So, after a few months I got this expression of interest from a guy. He was the perfect guy according to my parents- same community, MBA from top B school, hi-flying job, common relatives. There was a sudden wave of thrill in my house. He was like a Godsent match for me.

But, reality dawned when the kundali was matched. I was the so called  “Manglik” and he was not. His mom (Great Indian Mom!!) did not want to risk the son’s life by getting a Manglik DIL (Daughter-in-law). I think probability of death is higher in car accidents, bomb blasts and cancer than marrying a  Manglik girl. But, after all she is the “MAA”. Then, the common relatives had to intervene to encourage her to consult a “Pandit”. Somehow, the Panditji convinced her that I am not a threat her son’s life (Life Insurance companies- are you listening? He is a potential sales hire!!).

A meeting was fixed for us by our families in a suburban mall. I was dressed like a princess by my family. I reached a few minutes early, checked myself in the mirror and waited for him at the entrance. There were butterflies in my stomach. Will he be the one? If yes, then will I be married to him in the coming months? Will there be “love at first sight”? I was absorbed in my thoughts and was jolted back to reality by the ringing phone. I answered and was greeted by a deep voice on the other side. He had reached and was looking for me. I scanned the crowd and spotted one guy on the phone wearing a brown jacket. I waved and he waved back. We had seen each other’s picture. I anticipated a warm “hello” with some exchange of playful glances and a bit of chemistry. If only wishes can be horses…

He walked towards me, said “Hello, let us go to the food court” and walked ahead. I was confused and did not know how to react. I was expected to follow him. I scurried in the crowd to spot and follow him. He was marching ahead and I was trying to keep pace with him. (Whatever happened to the charming and playboy breed?).  After a sprint, we reached the food court and found a table. I will now have chance to look at him closely and get mesmerized, feel nervous and shy (Ohh- some addayien and sharmana like the yesteryear’s heroine). “You can never kiss him” was what my inner voice said when I stared at him. The puritan in me snapped at the inner voice for being lustful and for prioritizing physical pleasure over emotional bonding. I made a mental note to correcting the old adage- Love is not really blind ;-).

He was a short guy with average (Ok, I will be honest, below-average) looks, narrow squinting eyes and ugly lips. “Ladke ki shakal nahin, gunnas dekhne chaiye”, my Mom’s word echoed in my ears. I decided to silence the inner turmoil and focus on the task oops guy at hand. We made some casual conversations about work, likes, dislikes etc. He was a boring conversationalist also. I narrated my weekend activities to him and then eagerly waited for him to share the same. He smiled and replied “I do pretty much the same” (You Moron- I go for waxing, threading and facials over weekends. Do you also do the same?). He talked about some complex physics-related book he was reading and went on to describe the theories from the book. I restrained myself to get up and run from my seat.

After some drab conversations, he stood up to get some refreshments for us. Wait a minute! Is there something wrong with his jacket? It was unusually tight on his stomach. On closer observation, I realized that he had a big paunch. Yes, you read it right- “A BIG PAUNCH” which was almost the size of a big watermelon. Left alone, I convinced myself that he is the “Perfect Guy and a Godsent match for me”. I sensed that he was nervous and uncomfortable. I guess he had also sensed that this conversation was going nowhere and this was not working for us. He spent a few seconds checking his phone and told me nervously that one of his friends is here to handover some stuff to him. He needs to collect it. I said ok. He asked me if I would like to wait. I volunteered to accompany him hoping that we will come back and continue our conversation.

As we reached the ground level of mall, he turned around and asked me “How will you go home? I can drop you in my car?” I was taken aback- “Go home?!!! When did we decide to end the meeting? Maybe, he decided in the elevator. Should he not make me a part of that decision or at least announce his decision to me?” He was anxiously waiting for my answer. The modern, educated, career woman in me voiced her independence by saying that “Thanks, I will manage”. After exchanging pleasantries he started walking towards the parking lot. I was left standing- dumbfounded, confused and disappointed in a crowded mall. All this just happened in a few minutes. I was not disappointed because we did not click or our meeting did not achieve the desired result. I was sad because “THE PERFECT GUY” was not chivalrous enough to end it on a better and friendly note.

With a heavy heart I reached home. My mom answered the doorbell and looked at me in anticipation. I ignored her and stepped inside only to realize that all my family members are in the living room and waiting for me to announce the results. I smiled, gathered courage and told them that it did not work out. This was devastating for my mom. She could not understand why? He is well educated, belongs to the same community and a good known family. I tried explaining that I did not like his looks; he is a boring conversation maker and leads a non exciting life. 

My Mom could not comprehend the above reasons stated by me and after all “Shaadi ke baad toh sab theek ho jaata hain”. 

“But, he is PERFECT”, my Mom reasoned.

“Yes, he is PERFECTLY IMPERFECT” is what I said to myself while stomping back to my room.

A Question of Answers

EssEss continues about her first!



So there I was, an unsuspecting first-timer at a coffee shop of a five star.
If you've not read my earlier piece, the link is below.

To summarise however, the plan was to meet alone so we could talk freely.

While the 'alone' part didn't quite work out well, even the talk part was... a bit wanting!

So this tall, fat curly-haired dude has come back from the UK. For good. (His good, I suppose, 'cause it was definitely not for mine!)
He wanted to be back with the family. Join his father in his business. His background was research he told me.. I need not have asked in what, cos soon I realised that I was his subject!

So tell me... have you ever been victim to a psychological test on a matrimony date? Wohoo!! I had the privilege of one.
He had come prepared with a set of questions! When I say prepared, hold your breath, with a printout.
Yesss! 

Not only that I was supposed to think over the answers and send him the replies by email the next day! I shuddered in horror to think what would happen if I failed thes test!.

At that point in life I did not give a kadak chai jawab….But all you people out there, please send in your kadak replies to the test below while I sip on my chai!

Here goes! The psychometric test for the eligible types!

1. I don't have any money and if we get married how much money will you bring with you?
2. If me or my mum or even dad had a go at you, how would you react? n if we argued what would you do and how would you handle the situation?
3. I don't have a car, would that be a problem? If yes, why?
4. If I decide not to take on my dad's business and I am jobless would you still want to marry me?

All you single women out there... Do you know the answers? The right answers? Any answers?
Come on!!!

 

(Haven't read the earlier piece? Click here http://talldarkwasted.blogspot.in/2013/05/the-first-date-or-maybe-not.html)

The first date... or maybe not!

As contributed by EssEss!

I may not have been born to write. But was I born to meet the weirdest species on this earth??! Oh hell yes!!!? Guess not! And so here I am, attempting to write on this blog.

The matrimony weirdos….have met all varieties…tall, short, fat, thin. The corporate ones. The mamas' boys. “I m the NRI” MCPs. The “How have I lived without you” types.

This special one however takes the cake. It’s difficult to wash my memories of this particular event; no matter how much soap I use.

It was my first time.

Just fresh out of college my parents decided that we should start while I was young and look out for 'a suitable boy'! Not knowing any better I complied.

There's always a first time, people say. I knew this was the first time and I had no expectations from it. My parents were probably more eager. First time lucky they must've thought. So when the proposal came along, we were all willing to meet the boy. All except the boy!

He wanted it to be a date. A one to one conversation so to speak. Let's get to know each other. Let's meet without the pressure types. Well, alright, we debated. Maybe that's the norm. What were we newbies to know!

So, I met this tall, fat, curly-haired "I am the NRI" category at a coffee shop of a renowned 5 star hotel. The conversation steered from reasons for his return from UK to the new surprise bungalow bought by him in Juhu scheme. Why?! Go figure! Then the questioning started. Almost an interview. Almost an interrogation (But heck! That's another story, oops, blog post!) As I tried to take in what he was asking me and trying to answer his (kind of) weird queries without being dishonest or impolite I suddenly started feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

I knew we had decided to meet on our own so that right from the first meeting we could talk openly without the concern of two sets of potential in-laws watching us. And in all fairness I had agreed.
But suddenly our table of two had turned to a virtually table of four!

First dates are full of expectations. First time meetings in an arranged setting is even more so. At teh same time you go with your head on your shoulders knowing what is likely to happen. You know you will be sized up, looked up and down and stared at quite a bit.
But this was downright rude!

My sense of discomfort stemmed from the fact that two more people had unceremoniously joined us at the table close to us, with all eyes on me. I quickly figured out our neighbouring table, too close for comfort, was occupied by his parents! They had seated themselves there a few minutes after us and (in all probability) were taking mental notes to my answers without taking their eyes off me for a minute.

With all the prep I had done for this I had not bargained for this 5-star treatment of being stared down by potential relatives at the next table!
I squirmed, made hasty excuses, gave them one final withering look and ended this dishonest set up as quickly as possible.

(As for the questioning that happened before this, watch out for the next part of this story!)

Till then gurlz, stay cool, stay single!

Tall. Dark. And a complete waste of time!

For a lot of Indian women - young girls I should say - getting married these days is a bit of an issue.

And these are not just any one.

These are women you know. Women I know. Women we meet every day.

Each of them has a story to narrate. Well... more than one story.

About meeting men who come with strings - sometimes ropes - attached. Sometimes the strings even go back to their mothers' aprons.

Are they good looking? Smart? Intelligent? Yes. And more. They come tall, dark and... most of the time... a huge waste of time.

Which explains this blog.

The publishing rights stay with three women close to me.

Under alias, these are TeeGee, EssEss, and 2bMiranda

Three, whose trials and tribulations in the so-called shaadi.com market have ranged from tragic to the ridiculous.

Stories that are now up for sharing. For the real world to see.


This is a place for conversations. While we will start the conversations, it'll be great if you keep them going!