M&G: Mr Iyer & Mrs Khurana - CLOSED

Posted: 13 years ago
Mr Iyer & Mrs Khurana
A perfect mis-match

Author's Note

Well folks, I have decided to shed my skin as a writer in IF. I want to be known as a reader starting today and I think I can do a damn good job at that.

But right now I'm bidding my goodbyes to both my pending FFs (Iyer and Khurana,  Chandini's rooftop)

Thank you all who supported me here. It had helped me immensely with the impulsive writing I picked up on a rainy morning.

Keep in touch.

Hasini

EDIT

I'm not sure writing any number of 'Thank you's' will cover for it...but really
THANK YOU so much.




Characters
Mr Vasudevan Iyer
Mrs Premi Vasudevan Iyer
Mr Gaurav Singh Khurana
Maan Singh Khurana & Geethika (Geet) Vasudevan Iyer
Of course our much loved Daadima

Thread Status: Updated 10/11/2011            

Index


Picture Album



I needed something to draw me out from the block once again and I penned this down. I could not control the scenes flooding my head as I listened to Sadi Gali song  (Tannu weds Mannu) in addition to an old friend (The guy in the FF) who came back to haunt my thoughts. No he really was a friend...that's all, only in reality he is a tamilian (Oh! the BBC part n all is true, he was my 4 year ticket to Saarang at IIT he he...Free loader I know). Let me know what you think. This is a short and light FF too, but as always NY Times and Rooftop take priority. This FF will only be updated when I want a break from the heavy characterization in the other two FF's.


One Tale at a Time: 6thElement Fiction Index
Edited by 6thElement - 12 years ago

Created

Last reply

Replies

607

Views

94226

Users

128

Likes

2178

Frequent Posters

Posted: 13 years ago
Part 1: The Preamble

"Appa please...this is not a joke. I will even eat amma's upma but will never eat chappathi for the rest of my life" she screamed at her father as she walked across the room to sit by the window. Her face contorted in a range of emotions as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Geet ithu nichayam (It's done)...I have decided and stop using analogies...I'm not your amma. You are marrying Gaurav's son" Her father, the brainy IIT professor retorted in frustration. Hoping to convince her he further added "BBC selected him to shoot a documentary, above all he graduated from MIT in nuclear physics. A pure gem I say...I have never seen a more intelligent and admirable student in my teaching career"

"If you like him so much, then write off your property...don't marry him to your daughter" she cried softly, almost wanting to jump off the ledge and catch a train to nowhere as she heard the electric train race past her house.

Her father had calmly come into the house as any other day that evening, but little did she know that her life was to change forever. A marriage proposal had come for her and an Nth one too.

Coming from a normal, boring middle class family, her life had mostly been around Adyar and Vanavani campus. Her father's genes had obviously been dominant in her chromosomes that came to pass on brilliance and his stubbornness to another generation in the family. He had slaved his youth and all his old age into nuclear research at IIT, leaving her and her mom to be self-sufficient at running their small campus provided quarters. She was used to his assignments, paper presentations, thesis and the nerdy students who stormed their peaceful home quite often, but her father had never failed to make time for her when she had needed him. It was quite safe to state there had been no complaints from either sides, up until today. 

It had only been two months after she had completed her Masters and was coming to believe in financial freedom and the small luxuries that an additional income can provide with, when the bad news had come knocking at their door. 

Mr Gaurav Khurana was her father's research associate and his son was the Dhanav who was coming to disrupt her little world of a dream. At 23 she had not expected her father to behave as any other typical parent and start ranting about his responsibilities in getting his daughter married off. Somehow she had believed that day was distant... somewhere in the future, which she had tricked her naive mind into thinking that it would be far from 23.

Perhaps, it's the norm in the south, she thought. No matter how educated or forward thinking the parents were, they somehow always thought that daughters disrespected them when they didn't go by their choice for marriage. Well it was not like they had forced her or not sought her opinion when it came to choosing her school or clothes or jewelry, but strangely they had turned the matter of her life partner to become their preference. Perhaps even a tamil guy would not have shattered her life as much as this punjabi munda had already done. Gaurav uncle's proposal had been irresistible to her parents, especially when he had been her father's most admired student and was supposedly pursuing the same research path as that of her father. The extreme differences in the cultures had suddenly disappeared and their daughters' life had served as the supreme sacrifice to turn the thesis partnership into a personal one. She couldn't bring herself to imagine her speaking Punjabi or eating roti's for the rest of her life, when she could not stay without curd rice and pickle or Ilayaraja's songs even on a fasting day.

She sniffled as she moved to lie into her mom's lap.

"Appa will do it only for your good...He works for the US government you know..."

They were too proud of their not yet but soon to son-in-law and the thought sent a flare out as she sighed. She had no clue why she hated the whole arrangement when she had never met him. To her it only came across as loss of her freedom, passing too quickly from her parent's care into another man's arms whom she had never met or ever spoken with. She wondered if that would make a good argument with her mother.

"Amma but I don't even know if the man looks agreeable...What if he has a squeaky voice like those geeks who visit our house?" She drowned herself in her pool of tears, but could not give up the fight with her mom.

Upon hearing her annoyed tone and arguments in the other room, her father made an entrance.

"Geet...the matter is all settled. We know that he is handsome as hell and god no, his voice is not squeaky" he heaved, showing signs of an impending asthma attack.

No her father was not trained in the theatricals, but the frail man had always suffered such attacks every monsoon; a condition that was his one curse that kept him from travelling. Except this time around he was thankful that he had such weak lungs, because it made his daughter run to him in panic.

"Appa please.... sit down" she said.

And giving in to her request, he seated himself beside her mom and went on.

"He is a very busy guy and so your marriage is going to be in a week. We will have the marriage in both customs. The reception and punjabi style wedding will be in Delhi for they have more relatives there..." He coughed and wheezed the whole time "Their family home, the Khurana mansion is where we will be staying and that's all there is to say"

"Am I never coming back appa?" She held onto her father's knees as she trembled at that question.

Instantly her father was overcome with grief as he saw his daughter innocently ask about their parting, a moment in time he dreaded more than her. He could have answered her but instead turned towards her mother and started off a praise chant about his son-in-law. Fearing he would give away his weakness he could not make himself meet her gaze. He had had no such thoughts of taking her marriage decision into his own hands until Gaurav had asked for Geetika's hand in marriage for his son. He had become teary eyed and had been stumped all at the same time as he could not believe the fortune and good natured people his daughter would have for a future family. Like Marlon Brando, Gaurav had made an offer he could not refuse and there was no choice but to give his acceptance for the same. Any other man, the proposal would have taken another route, but it was his favorite student they were talking about and he was as selfish as fathers came, to expect nothing but the best for his daughter.  

"I want to talk to him first...I need to know what sort of a person he is Appa" She demanded now as her father sat down for dinner; her voice now stern and demanding after having stopped crying the full three hours. These were the last tricks up her sleeve for a slow resolve was forming inside her telling her that she had lost the battle a long time ago.

"Geet that might be tricky. He is here only for a short while and is landing on the night before the marriage. I will get his number from Gaurav..." He said as he let a thin stream of water flow from his hand, around the plate before he dug into the steaming idli's; an old ritual to purify food, which he could not give up no matter how much he had taken to science.

"Look at yourself appa...you are a strict Brahmin and they eat meat...Chi Chi entha guruvayoor appa" She was taking the lord's name at the very thought of their choice for consumables. Her father ignored her outburst for he had always known that she had been a drama queen ever since she had slurred at her first words.

"I do aalapana in the morning...when he probably would do balle balle...I would eat idli and he would demand roti and butter chicken...I will speak tamil and he will speak Panjabi...Above all I'm so sure he is bony, oily haired, with a thick moustache, bad taste for clothes and smelly. Narakam (hell) is what he is appa" She completed her spiel at one go and sat down next to him, intently glaring for an answer.

Her father gave a quiet smile, which grew into a chuckle. For some reason, she heard the doors closing down upon the sound of his laughter; a defeat horn hooted in her mind as she saw her father spew out the ultimatum she did not dare to accept.

"Geet...his way or your way...it's for you husband and wife to figure out...But get this straight my daughter...You are marrying Maan in 5 days"

***

Edited by 6thElement - 13 years ago
Sonali92 thumbnail
Anniversary 14 Thumbnail Group Promotion 3 Thumbnail + 4
Posted: 13 years ago
i am also a tamilian and i would give everything for a man like MSK...really everything...i would eat roti i would do bale bale and would learn punjub for him.....i love your ff already...and thx for the pm
Ramhari thumbnail
Anniversary 13 Thumbnail Group Promotion 5 Thumbnail
Posted: 13 years ago
Nice concept . Geet's excuses for escaping the marriage were hilarious. But looks like the father is adamant on getting her married to the punjabi.I read your newyork times 3-4 times. I am agreat fan of your FFs . Cant wait to read more. Continue soon.
madhu.pmlist thumbnail
Posted: 13 years ago
superb Hasini! just a quick note Geet is Iyer so enta guruvaayurappa doesnt work 😛 may be Muruga would suite better. Just a thought I dont mean any offense 😕
esha143 thumbnail
Anniversary 14 Thumbnail Visit Streak 180 0 Thumbnail + 7
Posted: 13 years ago
Wonderful story hasini...and hilarious till now 🤣...I was laughng listening to all of Geet's complaints...its gonna be fun to see her expressions when she'll see him for herself....please oh please update this ASAP..I can't wait for more....
-pixie- thumbnail
Anniversary 14 Thumbnail Group Promotion 5 Thumbnail + 3
Posted: 13 years ago
"She couldn't bring herself to imagine her speaking Punjabi or eating roti's for the rest of her life, when she could not stay without curd rice and pickle"

Thats just my marriage in reverse🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣...How much we have fought over this rice vs roti debate...Loved the preamble- hope you continue.....This is Iyer vs Khurana...and I have a couple of friends who are Iyer vs Iyengar (Theirs was a love match- just the parents decided that a wedding would be the best place to have this whole thing out)

This was hilarious...and madam if you want moustaches he has to be Gult and not Punju...I am yet to meet anyone born and brought up in Andhra without a mush😆😆😆😆😆😆😆

Let me know if you need any more tips on what a cross cultural couple can fight about😆
Posted: 13 years ago

Originally posted by: Maaneet_09

superb Hasini! just a quick note Geet is Iyer so enta guruvaayurappa doesnt work 😛 may be Muruga would suite better. Just a thought I dont mean any offense 😕


Oh! she is palaghat iyer...They are the ones I'm familiar with. The Michael Madhana Kamarajan type. LOL
Posted: 13 years ago

Originally posted by: -pixie-

"She couldn't bring herself to imagine her speaking Punjabi or eating roti's for the rest of her life, when she could not stay without curd rice and pickle"


Thats just my marriage in reverse🤣🤣...How much we have fought over this rice vs roti debate...Loved the preamble- hope you continue.....This is Iyer vs Khurana...and I have a couple of friends who are Iyer vs Iyengar (Theirs was a love match- just the parents decided that a wedding would be the best place to have this whole thing out)

This was hilarious...and madam if you want moustaches he has to be Gult and not Punju...I am yet to meet anyone born and brought up in Andhra without a mush😆

Let me know if you need any more tips on what a cross cultural couple can fight about😆


😲 I was hoping you would take up the creative post for this FF. Common....There is no question of asking for tips.
Oh! she is a palaghat iyer...and many of them from the sect don't have mush. She feels everyone else have mush or beard.
Thanks for the sharing your thoughts...hopefully this will be a light one, just as you asked.

Edited by 6thElement - 13 years ago
Posted: 13 years ago

Part 2: News flash.

No one knew how the 5 days flew by, but they did...with shopping, parlor, mehendi and other arrangements that never seemed to end. She had not slept a blink ever since that night her father had marched home and had declared her impending doom. Acting out as often as she can, she had sometimes skipped meals. It was all getting too predictable for her parents and by now her father had a timetable for her drama sessions too.

Besides the angst, that she was only handing over her life to a stranger, she had been stupid and had not taken a look at the munda's pic that her father had brought in from one of his campus journals. The guy was only the sought after junta after all...who had taken over all papers and journals that IIT had published the entire four years he had been there. Then MIT had invited him over for a royal scholarship, which literally translated into We-will-pay-you-Come-study-with-us type deal.

Given the image that her parents had been drawing up in her already confused mind, she could not come to think of spending the remains of her life with another geek. Her father had driven her crazy as it is with his highly incomprehensible lingo and now there was only more of it coming from his pupil. It seemed like a transfer from one asylum to another; Vanavani campus to MIT campus where her days to come would revolve around nuclear physics...yet again.

She was getting married?...her mind rebelled as she rolled in bed and muffled her cries into the plumped up pillow. If the thought of marriage had not sunk in yet, then it was only natural that she hated the guy whom she thought was nothing less than a noose around her neck.

If marrying out of caste or state was still blasphemous to many in the region where she came from, it had always been the opposite in her family. The dowry really had been the number of postdoctoral thesis they had done. In other words the one with the most brains carried the highest demand. And so their family tree had branched off to take shoot in far off exotic lands. Simply put she had a German aunt, two cousin's married to men from dragon land (China) and a Singhalese doctoral fellow for another brother-in-law. Although foreign by birth, they were all taking into their cultures very well and their family was now indeed set out to register a Punjabi into their global village that they were so keen on building. She absolutely adored and welcomed her cousins from the unfamiliar nations, but when it came to her own country she could not stand it. Geet's anger really stemmed from the fact that her outlander cousins and aunt had showed up because their not-so foreign spouses had picked them purely because of the love they had shared. In her case, the four-letter word did not exist, but only exertion and force into marrying him remained to lament.

"Well...think about the future generation...I'm sure you will be giving birth to the next Nobel prize or the next Einstein given that its really a coming together of generations of brawny brains" her uncle had cracked his so-called PJ while at their routine scrabble session, last night. Good heavens, for once can no one think of anything else other than the mating that was to follow, she had thought at those already embarrassing moments. Here they were already planning on the next Khurana Iyer and she was ready to jump off the ledge. At that thought she had rolled her eyes and her father had left the room continuing their cold war. Her father had taken morbid offense to her turning down his favorite student leaving her to wonder if he was his offspring and why he was patronizing him blindly. Argh! She screamed as she got off the bed to get ready for the informal meet and greet that evening. Her not-so better half, who was best for anyone except her had already safely arrived.

Walking sulkily to the bathroom, she paused to look herself in the mirror. She turned around, twirled and moved side to side to check her out. No this was not self-adoration, but she still couldn't convince herself that he had accepted to get married without so much as a phone call or a photograph of her. The parents had planned not to have them meet until tonight and conveniently with her ill-luck, it had been working quite well. "I'm alright" She said softly, as she found herself alone in the room.

All right? Did the women know how many juniors she had tempted to switch to nuclear physics to get into Vasu sir's class, but the sheer complexity always drove them all away, leaving the remaining few to enslave their waking time at the lab. Thereby the false notion. She was quite the Iyer chic on the block, with her long hair that ran up to below her waist, her slender figure, fair skin and eyes that took the onlooker by a storm. Somehow growing up amidst so many guys had made her feel that it was normal for them to ogle and that it had nothing do with her looks. Even when the galli kids who froze every time as they watched her religiously on her way to Kalakshetra dance classes, did not help make a change to her stubborn belief. In all her glorious ignorance, she didn't know her comely looks had already bowled over the one person, she detested to the core.

If the last 5 days had been living hell for her, her future husband had spent a very busy week shopping for his upcoming India trip, with no clue that he was getting married to the same girl he had had feverish dreams all summers he had come down for research projects to the Chennai campus with Vasu sir. That was some secret that his father and Daadima had been keeping from him the entire time the talks had started between his father and her father. Not that he hated girls - the sentiment actually being quite the opposite - but he had been cavalier on all marriage proposals that had come his way the past 3 years and his father had dreaded and questioned his preference of gender for a partner. So in order to end his own woes, his father had approached Vasu, his research mate, the next instant he had received a call from Maan that he would be visiting for a short while. Fairly put, they were planning to poach the chicken the minute it landed at the airport.

"Dad...Send the driver to the airport around 5.15. Given my assessment, I should clear customs in exactly 43 mts, but this is not considering the delays I might have if my baggage gets lost" He said, haughtily as he waited for his Singapore flight to take off.

"Well son, I'm sure you would have already run a risk model around that time estimate, so I'm going to skip the arguing...but I do have something important to tell" Gaurav shifted uncomfortably in his office chair.

"Yes Dad...the flight is taking off in another 2 mts. You got to make it quick" he rushed through his words in hopes to get the stage back to his father in time.

"Hmm...I guess there is no other way to put this, and so here it goes" He paused a bit before he continued "I'm sorry son but I have your marriage fixed..."

His father's statement had frozen him to the seat alive. What? His mind screamed trying to make sense of the words his father had just uttered. Well no man should be delivered such bad news when he was stuck between two paunchy women. There was no way to escape to the bathroom either, not before the flight was about to takeoff and that left the nausea settle back in his stomach. Disgusting. The bewildering look did not leave his face and the news now put a creased wrinkle in his forehead as he stuttered into the phone.

"My...what?...Are you even serious dad? How the hell can you do something like that? Don't I have to decide?...this is my life. Whatever happened to freedom of choice..." he had started off slowly, but now he had enough anger to set ablaze a small town.

"Maan puttar...listen" he said to cut him off which his father's steady and calm voice always did.

"You will like her and this is probably the best thing that can happen to you... ever. Remember half bollywood was ruled by southern women"

"Are you crazy dad? How can my marriage ever be the best thing for me?...Oh! Please I haven't even seen her...This is unfair...You are driving me into a coma here...But she is not Rekha or Sridevi, I'm sure Dad" He whined and went on "Can she at least speak Hindi? I can't for the life of me speak English all my life, let alone whatever language she does" He bellowed in frustration "Really my marriage? with an idli-sambhar patriot? Argh!" he heard his words ring in his disbelieving ear.

"I agree to your point on marriage, but its quite necessary you see. We all have to face hell on earth. And I have a gut feeling this might work out too...even when it comes to that idli sambhar...that way I will at least get something to eat when I visit you" His father stated quite openly leaving less to argue, although Maan did.

"Gut feeling? The biggest gamble of my life and with someone I don't even know...Dad you are such a sellout..." He sighed now.

"Sellout or not, coming back to her...I think you might have met her...She is Vasu's daughter. Geethika? I thought she will take to your nerdiness easily, given that she has lived with one all her life" with that he had to cut the call, as the hostess had forced him to switch off the mobile device. Damn the stupid rules, he knew that the packet network of his one cellphone did nothing to send the meters heywire, but that was a moot point he did want to pick up now and so he sat back, still stuck in that initial shock.

If his marriage was quite the news that was difficult to imbibe, this was a deathblow. Geethika?...He meant Geet. Only the bombshell firecracker of a drama queen that had driven him nuts his entire research tenure? She truly adored the woman, well she had only been a gal then, but getting married to her was an entirely different matter.

Before the news flash of his marriage could even register fully in his mind, his name on his lips had taken him back to all the times he had secretly followed her in his cycle across and outside campus. He could very vaguely recollect her face and her features now that some 5 years had already passed, but her eyes had stuck to his photographic memory and had never left him. He was a practical man and seeking out the daughter of his mentor was only second to choosing a uranium isotope for his thesis topic (He considered it to be the highly overrated nuclear material of the century). Did he get it right? That his dream girl was to be his wife and his mentor his father-in-law. Some truths needed tequila and lime to sink in and this one deserved double shots.

Much to many girl's dismay, he was the touch-me-not variety...not the playboy kind, but the lets-not-even-get-there kind. Seemingly he was as virile as they came, but the commitment word and 'together forever concept' had him running a mile a minute. But the damages were already in progress and fighting the inevitable did not make it look gracious as he entered the guillotine. Perhaps it was only her who could have convinced him in snappy minutes when he had been a runaway groom for years according to his father. And so a smile crept up his face while a strong resolve took root in his being. Geetika Iyer Khurana...He chuckled at the name as his daydreaming kicked in slow motion. While he was going to land in a total state of unpreparedness to be her groom, he might as well have some fun at it, he thought now. That called for a phone call to his and her father at the next layover...for he had one and only one condition in agreement for a lifetime of female exploitation and servitude.

Edited by 6thElement - 13 years ago