Dysfunction

"You and your children look so good! What DO you all eat for breakfast?" Smiles all around. "Thank you and haha! We actua...

"You and your children look so good! What DO you all eat for breakfast?"


Smiles all around.

"Thank you and haha! We actually got up late today, there was just enough time for all of us to take a bath, forget breakfast!"

Typical Amma. She would rather walk on a bed of nails than admit that she (and her daughters) actually made an effort to look good. If whatever she told each nice maami everytime they paid a compliment were true, then apparently we all just wake up every morning with perfectly set hair, blemish free skin, and in my case, minty green eyepencil-led eyes.

"Haha! Lovely to see you all. Tell your husband I said hello. How is his health these days?"

"Oh yes, I will. His health is okay, he's been doing all that he can to keep his sugar under control, work has been hectic."

"Ofcourse!" chimed in Harrods maami from nowhere. "Isn't that why she is doing CA? Taking up her fathers empire, such a responsible daughter you have!"

We repeated our well rehearsed smiles. Oh-I'm-so-unaware-of-my-own-daughter-raising-skills-so-thanks-for-pointing-it-out smile for Amma, the oh-I'm-so-unaware-of-my-own-sense-of-responsibility-so-thanks-for-pointing-it-out smile for me and the oh-I'm-so-proud-of-my-big-sister-and-I-think-she-is-amazing-and-supercute smile for my sister.

Well, maybe not the last one.

"How old are you?" Abhiramapuram maami, who had only been a silent spectator so far, joined in the conversation.

"I'm going to be 22 this March"

"Knowing your parents, they'll try to marry you off when you're 23-24. Don't settle."

"What?" I laughed nervously, and noticed the strain that was starting to creep up on my mother's smile. Clearly, Abhiramapuram maami didn't know Amma.

"These arranged marriages - who knows what you're going to get yourself into? I say, it's about time you went out and found your own man - a man you know will like you for who you are. Someone you can talk to, you know, someone who knows you and will stick with you no matter what; and one that meets your parent's expectations! I'm sure you're mature enough to pick well."

Mature, apparently. Abhiramapuram maami didn't know my mother, and clearly she didn't know me either.

"I know it's not that easy, but it's not that difficult! Start searching now, you're young and you're capable of handling all this! Besides, everyone's...what's it called, dating, no?"

Now that she had mentioned the D word, the little brain cells in my head switched to panic mode. If that Maami kept going on about me finding a boyfriend in front of my mother, as Russell Peters would say, somebody gonna get a-hurt real bad!

"Ehe, Aunty I don't know if I have the time for all this" I started.

"Time?! Sweetheart you're twenty one! You have all the time in the world! Wait until you're 27, 28 to be married- It's only by that time you'll be independant and levelheaded enough to make the decision."

I flashed back to 2 weeks ago, when I had just come back home from yet another haircut and Amma had predicted that I would be baldheaded by the time I was 28.

Just as I was about to make a Crazy Mohan-esque "Level headed illa, baldheaded" type joke in a somewhat desperate attempt to shift topics, I turned to see my mother with her eyes mildly welling up. She had very obviously been thinking of me getting married at 28. With a bald head.

"Think about it, ok? I'm sure your mother will agree, w-"

"This is such a pretty saree!" interrupted Harrods Maami, in what could only be termed as a divine intervention.

My mother immediately picked up the cue. "Oh, I got it for her for Deepavali. She's wearing it only now. In fact, she only agreed to come to the function because she could dress up! She had been complaining for a long time. You know how it is with her internship, she only wears Kurtas, never gets a chance to dress up."

"Yes Aunty. And this is such a nice shade of pink, no?" I contributed.

"Yes, yes it is. Ok, Habba, she left. Don't listen to her, okay. Listen to me, I will give you advice."

I immediately activated the laser jets which were cleverly embedded in my heels and flew out of the scene. Or I wanted to, but nodded instead. I know, I'm lame.

"She is young, so she has all these ideas in her head. We know our families and how they operate. They will not agree to all this dating, calendar and all."

"Yes, tell her! Find your own boy it seems." It was pretty obvious whose side my mother was on.

"I say, let your parents search. You can pick what you like, no? I'm sure you'll have a long line. Look at you, you're so young and pretty. Get married at 23 - 24 only. I mean, who knows how long you'll be nice looking!"

The next time I feel like dressing up, I'm going to wear a Saree and sit at home.


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41 comments

  1. Intha Chinna vayasula ungalluku thaan evlo kashtam :P

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  2. Maami seems to be totally bang on the buck. Why cant we all have some mami's visit our homes?

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  3. too cute and probably too real.

    but bald by 28!!!

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  4. @ Chutney : your "HALF PERUMAL, HALF GREEK" incident/post happened after this incident/post or prior to that? :P

    Observation made : This post has been lying in your drafts for some time I guess on certain facts disclosed in your post.lol :D

    Anyways liked it :), especially "Oh I'm so unaware of......" that was really hillarious.

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  5. glad you got your mojo back, atleast temporarily, to post this :)

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  6. shebba evalo naal aachu...:P

    adhdhan inniku vandha mazhaa poyepochu...

    idhu dhan butterfly effecto..

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  7. That was typical :) Thankfully you don't seem to have maamiyaar maamis in your circle - the hawks with eligible boys looking out for a suitable maatuponnu.Ammu was approached by one; thankfully I knew both the maami and her son, AND had access to his facebook profile. When I told Ammu that the maami in question might get a firaang maatuponnu quite soon, that was when she created a facebook profile. And discreetly told maami "Indha facebook-nu yedho irukkame? Neengalum oru kannu vechukkongo..." :D

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  8. Hmmm.. totally modern maamis :)
    wonder what she'll tell her kids :)
    nice post... i guess i too need to get used to d banter soon :)

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  9. LOL! You have such an exciting life with maamis! :D

    PS: share pic of this saree n how amazing you looked with me (want to see accessories! :D)!

    Glad you are posting again!

    --Saranya

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  10. First post after I blogrolled you, about 200 years back?

    LOL..on "somebody is gonna get hurt"!

    As a man who got married for over a 1000 days, my advice for the kids on the block (especially boys) to read my post "Girl Dekho". Been there and suffaa'ed that.

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  11. as Russell Peters would say, somebody gonna get a-hurt real bad!

    --k kool

    :-)

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  12. Stumbled upon your blog very very recently. Brilliant work i must admit. Never knew you were writing blogs all this time and you are really good at this.

    All the very best.

    PS : If you can identify me, do ping me.

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  13. ROFL!! These mothers and their obsessions with arranged married at 23!! Ha ha.

    The young Maamis seem to be catching up, that's news to me!

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  14. I bet before the 'Habba' from the second maami, the first maami walked away - not to go get kaapi or vada -but she spotted a almost 25 looking boy on the other side of the hall - she walked right up to him and now he knows all about you. You just wait. Maami ya Kokka?

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  15. Good banter! :)
    BTW, either this is nice fiction or delayed Publish from the Drafts section. Very delayed. (same observation as done by another commenter :P )!

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  16. been a while thangachi...un post yedhuvum padikaama worku romba bore ya! good one! i could almost imagine...how this conversation would have been..i've had similar doses..and the mamis dont change a word in their advice when they see guys around 23-25.. :P.. mami mami dhaan!

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  17. Like Raveena said, seriously mothers are obsessed with 23 and marriage..I pity all my similarly aged sisters...

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  18. FINALLY someone woke up :-) So long since I savored that brahmin touch! And next time you feel like dressing up, do so and go on a photo shoot rampage... I can assure you it will be highly utilitarian for social networking profile pics (Score a few likes and oh-pretty-pretty)or if things go too sour, for matrimonial sites :-P

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  19. after a long long time you wrote....
    this post makes me remember how my aunts talk to me in family functions, worring about my marriage. all moms are same lol :)

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  20. oh!!! That was classy!!! You do have a way with words...Felt as if I was literally there amidst all those ppl...Keep writing !! :)

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  21. If only Harrods maami hadn't interrupted. Well nice fresh writing.

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  22. I love your blog. Just discovered it today, when I should be reading up about New Liberalism and the Vietnam War for my winter finals. Great writing, but more importantly, even greater spirit.

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  23. Love your blog, can totally relate to this post:)

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  24. Love your blog, can totally relate to this post:)

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  25. I love your blog. Just discovered it today, when I should be reading up about New Liberalism and the Vietnam War for my winter finals. Great writing, but more importantly, even greater spirit.

    ReplyDelete
  26. oh!!! That was classy!!! You do have a way with words...Felt as if I was literally there amidst all those ppl...Keep writing !! :)

    ReplyDelete
  27. after a long long time you wrote....
    this post makes me remember how my aunts talk to me in family functions, worring about my marriage. all moms are same lol :)

    ReplyDelete
  28. been a while thangachi...un post yedhuvum padikaama worku romba bore ya! good one! i could almost imagine...how this conversation would have been..i've had similar doses..and the mamis dont change a word in their advice when they see guys around 23-25.. :P.. mami mami dhaan!

    ReplyDelete
  29. I bet before the 'Habba' from the second maami, the first maami walked away - not to go get kaapi or vada -but she spotted a almost 25 looking boy on the other side of the hall - she walked right up to him and now he knows all about you. You just wait. Maami ya Kokka?

    ReplyDelete
  30. ROFL!! These mothers and their obsessions with arranged married at 23!! Ha ha.

    The young Maamis seem to be catching up, that's news to me!

    ReplyDelete
  31. Stumbled upon your blog very very recently. Brilliant work i must admit. Never knew you were writing blogs all this time and you are really good at this.

    All the very best.

    PS : If you can identify me, do ping me.

    ReplyDelete
  32. Hmmm.. totally modern maamis :)
    wonder what she'll tell her kids :)
    nice post... i guess i too need to get used to d banter soon :)

    ReplyDelete
  33. shebba evalo naal aachu...:P

    adhdhan inniku vandha mazhaa poyepochu...

    idhu dhan butterfly effecto..

    ReplyDelete
  34. @ Chutney : your "HALF PERUMAL, HALF GREEK" incident/post happened after this incident/post or prior to that? :P

    Observation made : This post has been lying in your drafts for some time I guess on certain facts disclosed in your post.lol :D

    Anyways liked it :), especially "Oh I'm so unaware of......" that was really hillarious.

    ReplyDelete
  35. too cute and probably too real.

    but bald by 28!!!

    ReplyDelete

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