Two salesmen rang our bell this afternoon and when I opened, asked to speak to my guardian. This ain't the first time so I didn't bother correcting them. Just asked V to take over. Technically, whether he likes it or not, he is my legal guardian, I believe. (And he doesn't like it, he thinks it's my father!)
So V opened the door and they took a look at him and asked to speak to his guardian.
To think of it, we've been married two and a half years now. Two years, seven months, come tomorrow. That might not sound like a long time if you've been in the game longer, but you'd think it was long enough for me to feel married in my deepest subconscious? It doesn't work that way, I find. The other day I turned in bed and saw Vicky sleeping and I felt much like I used to before we got married: excited at being in the same bed and hoping in a vague sort of way that nobody would catch us at it! But just lately, I keep forgetting I'm married. I don't remember the date. Very strange but actually, it's not a bad sort of feeling. Because you suddenly remember you're married and can do as you damn well please.
Two very old friends got married this month. Afreen, my oldest friend now -- she's the one who named me Sue way back in 1992 when she was new to India and couldn't pronounce my whole name -- got married early this month and looked so pretty. Such a baby getting married. She had some of the most gorgeous mehendi I've seen and looked very regal in her bridal attire. Weird, because in real life she's a wee baby. Although she tells me she's a doctor now and has a piece of paper to prove it. Hmm... Scary!
And last weekend, on the 17th, Shriya and Rajeev got married.
Although I told Rajeev that I was most certainly from the bride's side, having been 'best friends' with her through classes IX and X, I'm not so sure he didn't have an equal pull. After all, he featured in my diary way before she did (he made fun of me in class VII, the rat). They were two of the most popular kids in our class, very non-controversial folks. And now that they got married, I guess they'll have some happy babies in the years to come! I couldn't make it to Afee's wedding but I did make it to Shriya and Rajeev's, so here are some of the pics taken by Sudhakar (another classmate). A very Tam-Bram wedding and Shriya looked gorgeous. (And Rajeev looked so grown up but nobody tell him I said that!)
I met Kavitha, one of the other members of our gang then, and her eight month old son. He was so cuddly, I really didn't feel like letting his mother have him back. I'm sure you can see why!
You can see him here, grinning away in hsi grandmother's arms. That's Baba in the background.
We took some more pics after we came out. The wedding was by the beach and there was this terrific breeze. I'd forgotten how claustrophobic I used to find Cal once. Here we are, in all our finery (and in my father's case, in his daily wear!):
I got this kurta stitched for him just in time for the wedding. Lovely, soft cotton cut piece on sale at Mrignayani. I guess even boys can have scraps of fabric bought for them. Funny it never struck me before! Here's V all decked up.
And here's Baba looking rather imposing.
While I was taking all these photographs V was indulging in a bit of photography of his own. I have no idea when when he did it but he took a quick set of me laughing in the sea breeze and I love the feel of the lot. Here's one:
The best part about our quick, overnight trip to Vizag was that Baba was in town as well, on his own work. So we basically went around in a gang. Visited the colony, after 3 and a half years. We went just before dusk and it turned dark as I walked down the roads in the soft rain. The lights came on in the windows and things looked so yesteryear, I almost walked down our old walk. I wouldn't have been surprised to open the door and find myself back in Vizag c 1999. The rangolis were still painted on the walks to Satyanarayana Aunty's door, and Muralidhar Aunty's kitchen was lighted like it used to be every evening. Only, Lakshmi's gone continents away and the Roys are now scattered up and down the country. The boys no longer roam the streets at night -- they are grown men, most of them married -- and I'm not making any secret midnight plans. It was so eerie, like actually re-visiting the past. I'm talking in such cliches, but I was rather spooked. And not necessarily in a good way. The way that past was shaping up, it led down a path I'm glad I didn't follow.
Because, you see, the path that I did follow led me into the life I'm leading, which is good. I keep cribbing and I never have a good word for The Bhablet, but the love in my life makes up for everything else. And by and large, I think in my heart of hearts I do believe what my mother says, that careerwise and otherwise, things will fall into place if I just give them space enough and time. Walking into the past like that reminded me of the loneliness that followed those 'golden' years; of the gilt tint to the gold that made me glad to leave the colony behind when I did. I do reflect a lot upon my past, but I like to re-evaluate it as I go along. And I cannot help but think I've been blessed. Somebody did see the good I've done, and did reward me.
I wrote this post last Friday and it feels pretty ironic posting it now, considering V hasn't talked to me for the better part of two days now. Ah, c'est la vie, mon brave.