Ek chutki sindoor: The OS

Posted: 12 years ago
So, I was seriously inspired by some of the truly awesome comments on this thread. It made me realize that Arnav and Khushi weren't really married. Not in the true bad Bollywood movie sense of the word. I decided they deserved the perfect Bad 80s movie wedding. And, therein this OS was born. If you haven't read the original post, please do so before reading this story. Or don't. Whatever works for you.

Also, let me warn you. This OS is for audiences who prefer their tongues to firmly planted in their cheeks. Alrighty then, read on, if you will. And don't say I didn't warn you.

Arnav dragged an unwilling Khushi up the stairs of the temple. As she entered the main temple sanctum Khushi felt a cold chill steal up her spine that she'd never felt before. The wind acted up. It swept her palloo off her head. She understood now. The end of modesty was near. She clutched the 2 feet broad, 3 yard long piece of cloth to her heaving bosom as if it were a lifejacket, but still managed to hold it such that her chest area looked remarkably exposed. Then the wind made that weird whooshing noise as it swept through the temple, jangling all the bells. The lamps hanging from the temple ceiling jangled and clashed in a violent symphony. All of a sudden a fire appeared in the havan kund. Khushi cringed. It was going to happen. Arnav raised a supercilious eyebrow at her fear. He didn't let go of her hand. He would wed her tonight whether she liked it or not.

 

An old priest appeared from behind the Devi Maiyya idol. Arnav wondered if he'd been hiding behind the goddess because he was afraid of him. He decided that was the truth and bared his teeth in an imitation of a smile. He liked scaring people. Good feeling, that.

 

"Beta, what do you want?" asked the old priest in a shaky voice. Arnav thought he looked about 106 years old. He wondered if he was up to the task.

 

"We want to get married." He said.

 

"OK. I take 2000Rs for shotgun weddings. Since it's a stormy and nighttime, 3000 for you. Atmosphere matters!" Said the priest matter-of-factly.

 

"I don't want to marry him. He's coercing me into it," begged Khushi.

 

"Not my problem. Men are Gods. Women are the dust that line their boots. Unfortunately, you were born with 2 X chromosomes. Dust on shoes is your fate!" said the old priest nonchalantly.

 

"I like the way you think Priest. I'll give you 5000 if you make it fast," Arnav grinned wolfishly.

 

"Well, the stage is set, I think. The bells are tolling. The wind is blowing. The fire is lit in the havan kund, and elsewhere, if I guess correctly," said the old priest leering at Khushi and winking suggestively at Arnav.

 

"Oh, priest! I love you man. Can you please do all our Poojas at Raizada house from now on? It'll be my revenge on Di for marrying that snake. Here, let me have your cell number," said Arnav joyfully. He loved this dirty old man masquerading as a priest.

 

The priest went into a small room to pretend he was gathering material for the wedding. In reality, there was nothing to gather. All he needed was a mangalsutra (he had plenty of cheap black beads stashed away) and sindoor (a cinch, since it was a temple.) He knew the mantras by heart, but took the prayer book with him anyway. He didn't want to make any mistake while fake-marrying an unwilling girl to a man she was clearly afraid of on a dark, stormy night. It was against his dharma to cheat on his profession. He thought Devi Maiyya might not quite appreciate it. Working for God was hard. There was no real boss, but one was always looking over ones' shoulder just in case. He hoped in his next life, (if he hadn't accumulated enough brownie points to escape the eternal cycle of living that is) he would be something else. Bartender sounded good to him. He liked his Rum, Mr.Priest.

 

"Are we ready?" asked the priest, shuffling forward slowly.

 

"Absolutely," said Arnav, dragging Khushi to the holy fire. All of a sudden, all the lamps in the temple lit up.

 

"Splendid!" said the priest. "Your union is blessed by the Gods!"

 

"Speak less. Do more. For every extra word you speak, I'll deduct 50 Rs." Snarled Arnav. Khushi struggled to free hew wrist from Arnav's steely grip.

 

"Arnavji! Must we do this!" she pleaded.

 

"Quiet woman! You heard what the priest said. Dust on my boots is your rightful place. Don't speak unless you're spoken to." Khushi piped down immediately. She'd never thought of herself as an inanimate particle. Her mother had always told her that men were the superior sex in every way. Women were mere enablers. Men were the do-ers. That's why she didn't need to go to college. 12th grade was enough. In fact, it was too much. Educating women was the road to chaos. I mean, once women started learning, they'd want to work and earn money. Then, where was the ending? Soon enough, they'd start demanding rights. No. No. Women were meant to have children and cook for their husbands. Keep house and home. But she'd never said anything about being dust on a man's boots. "I must've missed that part", mused Khushi. "I was always such a scatter brain. Thank God I never went to college. I would've never done," she sighed contentedly. She decided marrying Arnav was a good thing. She'd rather be the dust on his boots, than alone and unprotected in this big, bad world filled with lecherous Shyamjis.

 

"OK Beta, exchange garlands first! You bought garlands, of course?" enquired the priest.

 

"Of course. I always keep fake orchid garlands in my car for just such an occasion as this one," said Arnav, producing 2 garlands. He handed one to Khushi who placed the stiff garland around his neck and blushed as she did it. He threw his garland carelessly around her neck. She looked gratefully up at him. What a shining beacon of masculinity and kindness her husband-to-be was. She worshipped him already.

 

"Now the mangalsutra," said the priest, handing Arnav a tacky necklace of small, black beads with a large gold plated pendant. Arnav tied it around her neck quickly. She was 25% married to him. He felt it in his bones. Only the sindoor and pheras to go now.

 

"Now for the sindoor," said the priest, fishing around in his pockets for the sindoor dibbi. "Darn it! I was sure I put it in here. Where'd it go?" he asked, rummaging in his pockets for the box.

 

"-100 Rs. for not producing sindoor on time," said Arnav in a silky voice.

 

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Beta. I can't seem to find it," said the priest apologetically.

 

"Damn! Now what?" asked Arnav.

 

"Arnavji! Without sindoor, we won't be properly married. You must apply the sindoor in my maang!' said Khushi, panicking. "Ek chutki sindoor ki keemat, aap kya jaane Arnavji?" Khushi felt a thrill in her heart as she spoke those words. She'd been dying to say those words ever since she'd seen all those Nirupa Roy movies as a eager young girl, keen to learn about her place in this world. "Ask a woman what that pinch of sindoor means to her!" she pressed on. "It's our life. Our hope. Our destiny. Our faith. Our devotion. Our pooja.." before she could continue he stopped her.

 

"Enough! I know what's best! Samjhi Tum?" he said, pressing close, wishing there was a wall he could back her into. "I've seen a movie or two. I know what Men do when they don't have sindoor at hand!" he spoke grimly.

 

"Oh! Arnavji! You don't mean you're going to?" she asked eagerly. He nodded his head at her. "Where's my Swiss army knife?" he fidgeted in his pockets and produced one.

 

"Aaah! The old blood instead of sindoor trick. I love that one. So romantic," the Priest clapped his hands happily. Blood thirsty bas***d, thought Arnav uncomfortably.

 

"I think it will be better if you cut your finger on the sharp edge of the lamp. Much more fitting!" said Khushi.

 

"For a woman, you have the odd good idea!" said Arnav smiling at her. He cut his hand quickly on the lamp edge. "Shit! That hurt!" he yelled.

 

"Quickly, quickly. Sindoor in maang please. Before it stops bleeding!" said the Priest.

 

Arnav quickly smeared the blood in her parting. Khushi closed her eyes in bliss. She was his for all eternity now. What an amazing feeling, she mused. She already felt like a married woman. "This chutki bhar sindoor really does have magical powers!" she thought.

 

"I smeared some on your forehead by mistake. You better clean it up," sad Arnav.

 

"Oh No Arnavji! Let it stay. The more sindoor the better. I feel more married," she replied with perfect logic. "Your finger Arnavji, Let me bind it up for you," she said, tearing off a piece of her dupatta. It was like all her Bollywood dreams were coming true. She bound her dupatta round his finger, creating a huge bandage where none would've sufficed.

 

"OK. Time for the pheras, Beta," said the priest. They draped Khushi's dupatta over Arnav's shoulder and circled the fire 7 times holding hands while the priest chanted the sacred mantras. The bells jangled madly, the winds whooshed like crazy, The lamps swung nuttily but spilled not a drop of oil. It was truly magic. Suddenly, flowers showered forth upon the happy couple. Khushi and Arnav smiled up at the false ceiling that had opened up on the temple roof from where the flower shower was happening.

 

"Surprise!" said the priest. "I liked you beta. So, I arranged it specially for you. The flowers are only 2 days old too."

 

"+200Rs. for the extra trappings!" said Arnav. The Priest rubbed his hands in glee.

 

Khushi bent to touch her husband's feet. "I feel so lucky to be able to touch your feet Arnavji. You are truly the best husband I could've asked for," she said breathlessly.

 

Arnav grinned. Wedded he was. And to Khushi Kumari Gupta. In true-blue Bollywood style. Now for the suhaag raat.

 

And therein lies another Bollywood clich.

 


I did warn you!


Cheers!
Vidhya

PS: For other, less obnoxious works, please check out my index. (If I haven't driven you away by writing this piece of toxic waste that is!)

PPS: Did I forget any aspect of a Bad movie wedding? If I did, lemme know. I will rectify ASAP. 😊
Posted: 12 years ago
OMG...you really cracked me up🤣 I almost fell off my chair laughing so much.

Thanks so much for writing this, it really helped to lighten up my labile mood due to the current track..

Eagerly waiting for the even more clichd Suhaagraat..haha 
Edited by Pissa99 - 12 years ago
Posted: 12 years ago
That was hillarious...totally loved it...

-Sona
Posted: 12 years ago
🤣 ðŸ¤£ ðŸ¤£ 

Hahahahha loved it! You definitely brought out the humour well in the scene! Ahhh just what we needed!

Thanks for the OS! :D
Posted: 12 years ago
OMG that really cracked me up big time, it was sooo cliched, loved it. still smiling :) :) :)
Posted: 12 years ago
🤣 🤣 'The end of modesty was near...'... 🤣 🤣   Yep, she got all the signs!!!

I can't wait for the suhaagraat...with the requisite tall glass of doodh, no doubt... 😆 🤣
Posted: 12 years ago
omg LMAO!!!! that was awesome. ðŸ˜ƒ
Posted: 12 years ago
As always that was great! especially the sindoor part, The devi maiyya has to show some signs where are those, she is zoomed in and out smiling... or angry depending on whether she likes the groom or not...
Posted: 12 years ago
Oh My God!! I was laughing the whole time! Great thing, this one. Continue..! 
Posted: 12 years ago
OMG. Hilarious.Couldn't stop laughing. 

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