Top post on, the community of Indian Bloggers

Thursday, February 13, 2014

The Talkative Indian

I ask the guard at the gate for directions to C 2/110. " You want to go to the shaadi ka ghar? I almost cry out- 'Sherlock Holmes'  in admiration but then a glance at my right hand clutching the ubiquitous envelope makes the statement elementary. I nod and  as a reward am informed that the bride came back  home at 5 in the morning ( in a new ' badi gaadi ') , that the chacha -chachi had left but the mamaji-mamiji were still there and ...  I am still waiting for directions but the fellow is in full flow. Apparently wedding celebrations started a week back. There was gaana -bajaana everyday and a never ending flow of the best liquor. Here , I interrupt his  flow and ask the way again.

A couple of minutes later I am standing outside the apartment. The door opens before I can ring the bell and a woman comes out ,talking loudly on the phone pressed to her ear. She sees me and ends the call abruptly. I tell her that I am Saurabh's colleague and would like to meet his mother. It turns out she is the mother."Why didn't you come for the wedding ?  " I open my mouth to tell her the reason but it is really not necessary- my opening my mouth. She continues, " Itni beautiful shaadi thi- all the guests were so impressed. And the food !  Chandni Chowk ka halwai tha - the same one  who had cooke for the unit of  Dilli 6 .." By now I am feeling this compulsive urge to hear my voice- just to make sure that I can also do it , talk that is. So, cleverly, I wait for the moment when mother dear will have to pause for breath , but it takes a long time in coming . When she does pause, it is the moment I am gulping down hot tea and laddoos, and so the golden opportunity is lost.Ten minutes later I teeter out . The last thing she says is, " why didn't you come for the wedding- you should have come". I don't even try to answer that one. A wan smile and I am in the elevator. 

I reach home and park the car. A bartan wali ( you know the ones who take old clothes etc and give you steel bartans in return) is sitting outside the gate. " Bibiji, take a look at my basket. I have got so many new utensils". I smile and shake my head-" don't have the time." She is made of sterner stuff and repeats her plea. I again shake my head. That is not good enough for her. I am made to hear about all the neighbors, apparently with truckloads of old clothes and an equal amount of time , who took shining new bartans and shared their plans for what to do with the new thingies. So, Mrs S ,three houses away, chose a sieve because her purani sieve had been stolen by her jharu-poche wali ; and that Mrs P took 6 new steel glasses because this will be her daughters first karva- chauth and apparently steel glasses are de rigueur. I tell  the woman that I can hear the phone ringing and rush inside.

Dinner is over and the husband and I are watching the news ( Rajdeep Sardesai - so totally adore him). Suddenly , this look of animation comes over the husbands normally stoic countenance. I am mildly startled and quite curious to know the reason for this post dinner transformation. I don't have to wait long. " Guess whom I met  in the bank today?" I wait for him to answer his own question. " I met Z- you know the one who migrated to New Zealand 12 years back? Well, he is now in Singapore and...."  I heard about Z , his life, his wife, his children , his business for a full thirty minutes. 

I am seriously contemplating joining Buddhism.
 Buddham Sharanam Gachcham.


  1. Wow..I can so totally relate to this especially with older aunts. Sometimes it is fun to just listen to them going on and on non stop :) Great post!