And just like that, after a little drama and a lot of running around, I’m finally wed to Rook.
The most surprising part, if you can ignore the surprise value of me marrying someone after just over a year of meeting them, was how un-boring it was. The wedding, I mean. See, every Maharashtrian wedding I’ve ever been to has been sinfully dull. You wear pretty clothes, go stand near the bride and groom and throw ridiculous amounts of rice at them, an activity that loses its prank quotient the moment you turn nine.
Things are apparently a little different if you’re part of the wedding party. Especially if you’re the bride. And especially if the pandit has a sense of humour. Because that way, he’ll tailor the wedding hymns to include tongue-in-cheek references to your impending sex life. Yes, that happened. Right after some uncle’s mobile phone rang right in the middle of the crucial hymns. Twice. So between that, one of Rook’s relatives mistaking my cousin for him, and Tibet in her quest for the right wedding hall, asking Rook (whom she’d never met before) if this was in fact Veda’s wedding, it seemed like we had a good thing going.
Naturally, I was going batshit crazy.
Because nothing had gone wrong till then. I mean, come on, amusing asides aside, this was MY wedding. The end of a singlehood fraught with more scandal than Splitsvilla, more tears than Emotional Atyachar and more mind-numbing, blood-curdling nonsense than an entire season of Roadies. Something had to give. I could almost feel the other shoe dangling in the air, threatening to drop smack right into the ceremonial fire.
It didn’t.
I, on the other hand, sticking to the grand old tradition of destroying all that’s peaceful and pure in Rook’s vacation life, promptly fell ill in the middle of the honeymoon. That’s right, ladies and germs, I spent three days of my week-long vacay in the throes of PMS, cold, fever and a cough that made me sound like a TB patient.
Yes, it was all deeply romantic.
And after a weekend spent sprucing up the new house and feeling utterly domesticated, it continues to be so. Did I expect it to be any different? Can’t say. But if my wedding has taught me one thing, it’s that sometimes things turn out to be completely different from what you’ve expected.
But in a good way.
So, since we’re so close to the end of the year that we can poke 1st Jan in the ribs if we stretch a little, I will end this post on a New Year’s wish.
May the coming year bring you surprises that defy all your expectations. But, and this is important, in a good way.