The Wedding Crashers

10th of June started as a regular day. It was a Thursday and most importantly a weekday, so I had to pull myself out of deep slumber, or rather had to be pulled out, at 7 am. I had to rush to the station to catch the 8 am passenger train which would take me to a small town, called Muri located on the banks of Subarnarekha river lying on the border of Jharkhand and West Bengal. The place has a beauty of its own because it is bounded by small hillocks on all sides. Also, the place has a bridge which stands testimony to the plight of government in Jharkhand. The bridge is over the river Subarnarekha, which has dried to a small millimetre width stream of water. The bridge connects Jharkhand with Bengal. One half of the bridge which lies in Bengal is made of concrete and is newly constructed. The other half lies in Jharkhand and is still made of tin and iron scraps from the yesteryears. It has not been renovated since the 50s and the Jharkhand administration doesn’t even give a damn about it though it is one of the main routes connecting Bengal. Why will it give a damn? It has better work to do. Its politicians are mostly interested in the tug-of-war for the position of official leech who can suck the most blood from the state. Who can pull off a greater scam is the only thing on their mind.
Anyway, I guess I got swept by the emotion of neglect and corruption in the state. This is not a post about the rascals. This is about 3 characters- My mom, my dad and me. I would rather call 3 idiots(Sorry Mom & Dad, but even you won’t argue with me that we didn’t come out as fools on this day). So, where was I??? Hmmm. After learning how Alumina hydrate gets calcined at my summer intern in Hindalco, I came back to home by 7 pm. Dad was already home which was unusual, since he never comes back from office before 8 pm. I was at once ordered by Mom to get ready. I replied, “For what?”. Mom answered, “Didn’t I tell you that we have to attend a wedding reception of son of your dad’s colleague?”. I replied in negative. She told me, “I have told you atleast 10 times before, but you hardly remember a thing. Do you even care to listen?”. Most guys or girls of my age would know that by this age its of no use arguing to the Sonia Gandhi of household. If argued upon, you would end up just like Shashi Tharoor who couldn’t control his twittering mouth. I just tried to hold up the last flag of protest saying that I didn’t know anyone at the wedding and that I would get bored as hell, but all in vain.
I went to take a bath after the hot and humid journey and was ready by around 7.30 pm. But, as is always the case with ladies, they would take atleast 2 hours to dress up. And trust me, the dressing time doesn’t decline with age. It’s the same with every sister, friend, aunt, cousin of mine. All the ladies would take atleast 30 mins to decide the dress. I don’t think guys even take that long to decide what they are going to wear in their own wedding!!! But, that’s not all. The fairer sex would ask someone in vicinity that which dress would suit them better, as if the person would care. The truth is however that by that time the ladies have zeroed upon the dress, but they just need to get someone’s approval to go ahead with it. If you choose the dress which they haven’t picked, you would find a small frown forming on their make-up laden face.Atlast,by hook or crook, they would force you to pick the dress chosen by them and will get falsely satisfied on their own choice. Then half an hour goes for matching jewellery, half an hour for some damn accessories and make up, and the last half hour for dressing up. After that, all of them have a final glance of satisfacton in the mirror as if God himself was at work. I firmly believe God would have committed suicides so many times after seeing his gifted natural beauty distorted with artificial chemicals and cosmetics and being transformed into such a ghastly figure, that by now if some woman goes out without any make up God gets a jolt of surprise and thinks, “Is it some new make-up Lakme has come up with?”
I guess today I am deviating from the topic too much, only because these are topics on which one can go on and on. So, by 9 pm, we leave for the wedding with the gift on which was written “ Best Wishes To Noopur and Saibal From K.P.Roy & Family”. The venue was written “MECON hall” on the invitation card. We knew only one MECON hall in Ranchi, so Dad thought it won’t be necessary to contact his dear colleague enquiring about the venue. We reached the place in some 15 minutes and went inside the reception hall.There was no nameboard outside showing the names of the bride and the groom. My parents proceeded to the reception stage where the bride and the groom were standing while I preferred to stay back in the seating area. They all smiled and shook hands and then Mom handed over the wedding gift and the bride accepted with a huge grin. I am sure her face muscles would get cramps after the all time smiling exercise undertaken at the reception. The photographers requested for a photograph and all four of them stood smiling side by side as if they had known each other for decades. When my parents were returning to the place I sat, my dad looked around in search of his colleague but couldn’t find him or any of his colleagues. I suggested that its already 9.30, so either most of them would have left or they would be in the main dining area.
We advanced to the snacks/starters area, and helped ourselves with some snacks and starters. But, there was no one to be seen from dad’s office. My dad’s colleague is a Bengali, so we expected some Bengalis around. But, we could only hear Hindi and some Marwari being spoken. Dad felt suspicious because there was not a single soul whom we knew. Then, Mom transformed into Sherlock Holmes and made a startling revelation that the groom’s mother had told my mom that the groom was rather tall, atleast 6 feet. But, the groom with whom my parents had shared photospace with their Close-Up smile was rather short. We advanced to the main dining area, and to our disappointment saw that the whole wedding was a Marwari wedding and there was no one whom my parents knew. We had obviously made a huge mistake, we had come to some other reception, had even gifted the couple and my dear parents had themselves photographed with complete strangers. Then I realised that what the Indian weddings have become. No one knows anyone , but still smile as if they are long lost relatives. I suggested that we just have dinner here itself as not a soul would care and mainly because I was dying of hunger. But, my parents still had their ideals intact. For them, it would have been shameful. For me, the only difference between both weddings was the change in cuisine, since I didn’t know anyone in both weddings. We followed a hasty retreat from the place and my dad asked a passerby about where was MECON community hall situated. He answered that it was on the next right turn and that this was MECON reception hall. A mistaken identity of place can screw your whole evening.
At that instant, my eyes went to a small rectangular LED screen, similar to the ones found in railway stations. The LED was displaying a moving message, “Thank You for coming. AtoZ caterers.” And then came the final stamp on your idiocracy. The LED displayed “Welcome to reception of Rajeev with Alka”, which solved the mystery and raised the curtains from this mistaken identity crisis of ours.
The story doesn’t end here. After this, Dad suggested that we just give the concerned Bengali couple,cash as Aashirwaad since their gift was already given to the mistaken Marwari couple and obviously we were not going to ask them to return it. Hence, I have to go in search of a stationery shop at 9.45 at night to buy an envelope.Now, I don’t think anything like this has happened to any of you before. But, I swear you just want to get out of this as soon as possible when you get to know what fauxpas you have committed. Also, you would never find the shop you want at the most crucial time.We found everything from tailoring shop to grocrery shop to mobile recharge to medicals to even cycle repairing shop. But, it was not before some 15 minutes search of the colony that we found a small stationery shop that was going to get closed. At least, God favoured us here because we were just in nick of time. So, Dad slid some cash into the envelope and then we proceeded to the right destination. There we rechecked 3 times before entering and asked 2 passers-by that whether we were at the right wedding or not.
So, in nutshell guys,

• Recheck the venue before going to any reception/wedding/house-warming or any social gathering of this genre.
• Firstly, meet the person who has invited you rather than rushing to part away with the gift.
• Carry extra cash and extra envelopes with you in case of emergency.
• Check for the nameboard or signpost outside the venue.
• Lastly, Don’t write the name of the recipent of the gift. I still wonder what will the mistaken couple (Rajeev & Alka) think when they see the giftcard shouting Noopur & Saibal in bright, red calligraphic letters.
• And if you fail miserably in all of the above, just have your dinner silently in the wrong ceremony and then steathily get out of sight before someone spots you!!!