I remember when, I remember I remember when I lost my mind

I never ever thought I'll be the kind to feel happy at weddings. And I don't mean happy in the oh-there'll-be-yummy-food-to-eat kind of way. I'm talking about the oh-this-is-so-lovely-and I'm-so-happy-for-them feeling. I must be getting soft in my old age. Dammit.

So the marriage procession of close friends has begun. The day when there will be pressure piled on me to be part of it is not far away, I assume. I'm trying to decide which way to approach the situation, when it arises. The first way, of course, is blind protests and arguments. I'm a pro at that. Plus my stubbornness has become a kind of legend around the family, so perhaps that will hold me in good stead. Then there's method No.2, which I shall call Throwing Down the Gauntlet. In this, I tell my parents: 'So you want me to get married? Fine, find a boy who can deal with me, go ahead, I dare you.' This, I guarantee, will throw my parents into an immense fix, since they are aware of all my obsessions -- with football, tennis, sports, music, books, driving etc -- and really can't see anyone else being able to handle all these things. It could work, though there is a certain amount of risk attached to this approach. The third solution, and looking the most likely, is to take the escape route. Move out, far away from the marriage madness. Yes, I have it all figured out.

The best laid plans

Anyway, returning to this wedding, My friend T, who I've known since the time she also used to work in IE, had been telling me to block the dates for her wedding for the last 6 months, and like everything that is planned well in advance, the likelihood of my making it to Mumbai for the proceedings was thrown into disarray at the last moment. I felt a bit ashamed at asking for leave just a month into the new job, but well, I just had to. And only three days. That's allowed. The night before the train, I stayed up the whole time and wrote out what felt like a million stories so I could keep all the deadlines. Whew.

Me and a couple more of her friends were traveling from Delhi with her family by train, and though we all met for the first time, we had an excellent time. It began with becoming co-conspirators. We were all supposed to get off at Bombay Central station, but because we wanted adventure and had had enough of the train, we decided to scoot off at Borivali and find the way to Dombivali on our own. So we very smartly jumped off with our luggage and walked outside to the other coach where T and her family were, to say goodbye and see-you-later. Whereupon we were subjected to glares and yells from our dear friend, who couldn't believe we actually saw through our insane plan, which we had been discussing in front of her for the last 12 hours, by the way. Anyway, we were a bit shaken by the extreme reaction, so much so that we forgot about our main POA once we reached a station, any station: Vada pav. Instead, we found a cab and began the journey.

Of course, angry messages and concerned calls (from the fiancee) kept coming our way, but we kept going. The drive was rather nice, I thought, all the highways. It was hot hot hot and humid, but tolerable. We didn't take too long to reach, but it took us a million minutes to find our hotel. After flopping down on the bed for some much-needed rest, the remaining wedding party arrived, and more glares from T. The rest of her family were finding it all very amusing, as was I, but it is NOT good to burst out giggling when you're being glared at, keep that in mind. The anger subsided within a few hours, though, as we were all allies in a tricky situation: How to break the locks off suitcases when you forget the keys at home.

Crazy girls

The next day, we took a train from Dombivali to Ghatkopar, and I have to say it was the funniest train ride ever. We behaved like proper tourists and clicked pics in a local train, giving off crazy smiles. People were staring I'm sure, but well, anytime I think about that I crack up. Funny funny funny. After we reached our destination -- Lokhandwala -- the assault on ice creams began. We ate and we ate and we ate. And we continued our walk down the streets, occasionally stopping at shops to empty our pockets.

I spotted this shop with Liverpool mementos in the window and started behaving slightly kooky. Concerned, the other two accompanied me into the shop, and I began pointing furiously at various things I wanted. But the clock I really liked, on closer examination I saw it had a shadowy image of DaVID BECKHAM on it. on a LIVERPOOl clock. i mean, really.

So I ended up increasing my keychain collection considerably, and everything else the shopkeeper showed me (Liverpool towels, Liverpool bottles, Liverpool posters), I was forced to admit I already have them all, much to the amusement of my friends. Oh well.

A lot more shopping, vada pav, shawarma, coffee and juice later, we began the long journey back to the back of beyond. We reached Dombivali pretty late, and since the wedding was scheduled for 5.30 am, we were obviously not going to get any sleep. We still managed a couple of hours and then began getting ready. The others were wearing sarees, but I just had to put on a salwar kameez (pink :-)) so I had no tension. Instead, I sat and ate more vada pav as I watched them struggling with their sarees. More headshaking in despair at my pig-like appetite.

The wedding, which we missed most of coz there were some car issues, was lovely. I clicked a lot of pics, and at one point of time when I was standing in the middle, right in the front of the stage and smiling away, I realised I was the only one there. I sheepishly moved away to a less conspicuous place. The food was awesome too. I felt sad while saying bye to T, I would've cried if I wasn't made of steel. She won't be living in Delhi anymore. Sigh.

On the way back, the cab we were traveling in on our way to Bandra had a flat tyre, on the side where I was sitting. I knew I shouldn't have eaten so much the last few days. And a bunch of friends were waiting for me near Toto's, so I kept frantically checking my watch and attending calls to tell them how far I've reached. After a lot more drama and waiting on the road for a friend to pick me up and laughing to myself at how everything seems to go wrong at the same time, we all finally met. Ate great food, gossiped a crazy amount, laughed even more, and then it was time to head to the airport. A whole lot of insanity squeezed into four days. I want to do it all over again, with new methods of madness, of course.