The search for your soul mate can be anything from fretful to heartwrenching to ridiculously funny, depending on your attitude.
My shelf life is fast getting over -- even faster than the revolutionary changes that occur every minute in today's cyber world. Soon, I believe, I will have fungus growing out of my ears. (Gross, you think? Whoever said life was pretty?!) I will never learn the true, deeper meaning of life. And that will be the end of what could have been pure bliss for me. Or so I have been led to believe.
My dear dad tells me he has absolutely no hassles if I find my soul mate -- he can be black, white, fluorescent purple or any damn colour -- as long as he is a MAN and he is merry, but not gay.
"Why don't you just go out and find a guy for yourself?" he says. And since our kiranawala doesn't exactly stock bridegrooms -- the new, improved or otherwise variety -- and I really don't know how to go about "looking" for THE guy, I have to fall in line and put myself on display.
And thus began the silsila of kande pohe.
Prospective #1. I smelled trouble and refried bhajiyas the first time I set my beautiful, almond-shaped eyes on the guy. And since I did not want to be the one to introduce him to the concept of toothpaste and mint drops, onion breath was out of the scene before you could say shubh mangal savdhaan!!
Once bitten, twice shy, they say. Obviously whoever coined this brilliant phrase didn't meet my folks. They are more the try-and-try-till-you-succeed King Bruce and the spider types.
And since I had no intention of playing the long-suffering, if-life-is-a-bowl-of-cherries-what-am-I-doing-with-the-pits Ally McBeal types, I logged onto my humour mode and made up my mind that if I have to go through this deranged marriage scene, I might as well have fun.
Short guys with long names, tall guys with fat pay cheques, software guys with dollar dreams, MBAs with proactive strategies for a successful marriage, engineers-turned-IT professionals and some more engineers-turned-IT professionals, but every single one of them eyeing the great melting pot that is the US of A -- I have 'seen' them all.
Every now and then, I suffer from bouts of intensive anxiety attacks and self-pitying sessions and consequently make life miserable for my near and dear ones. I then get in touch with friends sailing in the same boat and we get together for a major session. Together, we say b***s to the world, drink lots of Diet Pepsi, praise one another to the hilt, berate all those who fail to appreciate our finer qualities, beat our chests (figuratively, of course) and start feeling our normal, confident, top-of-the-world selves.
Now I know what a yo-yo feels like.
But by the end of the day and zillions of plates of kande pohe later, I still haven't found what I, or rather my parents, are looking for.
Maybe I should switch to pizza, what say?
Shilpa Athalye is still looking for the 'right' man.
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