An intriguing story, by Atrayee, about the complexities and layers of relationship around a Paithani Saree in a Big Fat Indian wedding. An exclusive for Different Truths.

Destination Wedding! That’s the latest fling. The dernier cri of the moment, apparently receiving surplus hype after our own Anushka Sharma and Virat Kohli chose Italy to get married. Fair enough! With so much money pelting like hail from every corner of life, they actually deserve to cater a lifestyle like that. However, destination weddings are not new to India. It has been the mores since decades now, albeit with a slight modification. Instead of crossing the borders, a few streets are cut across and a suitable, pocket-friendly and prestige-cushioning function hall is whittled down from a list for the marriage rituals to take place. Tamilians call it Kalyanamandapam. And, it is not just a mere dais to take the vows and a spacious dining area. These so called Kalyanamandapams also provide the concept of home-stay for the guests. Bigger the amount you pay, better the service. Just name the amenity and you should be served; nothing less than a 4-star hotel.

… it’s about our very own, middle aged Iyer-mami (married woman) whom we all refer to as Nandu. She is one of the most regular faces in all the family gatherings, though has never been given much significance.

Enough! The focus is getting lost. This is not an essay on our desi marriage halls. Rather, it’s about our very own, middle aged Iyer-mami (married woman) whom we all refer to as Nandu. She is one of the most regular faces in all the family gatherings, though has never been given much significance. Some call her Athai (paternal aunt), some approach her (just for courtesy though) as Akka (elder sister). And then, there’s a majority belonging to my clan who have no clue about her line of descent and address her in the colloquial Tamil term for kith and kin; Maami. ‘Nandu Maami’.

***

“Huh! At least they considered me eligible enough for an AC room.” Nandu took a dim view of the room allotted to her and muttered. Her fingers ran over the switchboard and literally smacked each of the switches twice to ensure everything provided in the room was functioning.

“What are you looking for…Check on the AC.” She commanded her husband.

Mousy, close-mouthed and almost a nebbish, Mr. Gopalan had just been a good listener to his wife throughout a decade long conjugal life. He was a senior clerk in the postal department.

Mousy, close-mouthed and almost a nebbish, Mr. Gopalan had just been a good listener to his wife throughout a decade long conjugal life. He was a senior clerk in the postal department. A fading profession altogether, neither it added any weight to the wallet nor to their stature in the society. His excuse was job stability and security, to which Nandu didn’t give two hoots.

He kept down the suitcases and numbly carried out her instruction. AC was working. Nandu jumped on the bed, rolled the fan regulator to its maximum speed, adjusted the AC at 18°C and breathed out a sigh of relief. Even the mattress and pillows were good and comfy. But what was this? They had given only 2 pillows. How would her daughter sleep? Did they expect an eight-year-old to sleep without a pillow? Ridiculous!

“Lavanya!” Nandu called out for her daughter who was more than thrilled with the hand shower inside the bathroom. She came out running with a naïve analogy of shower and bum washer.

“Lavanya!” Nandu called out for her daughter who was more than thrilled with the hand shower inside the bathroom. She came out running with a naïve analogy of shower and bum washer. Nandu stole a caustic glance of Gopalan and cleared her daughter’s confusion.

Gopalan was conversant with such glares. According to Nandu, lack of modern amenities in their lives was making Lavanya incompetent for the present world. To call anything as a decent possession for Gopalan and his family of three, there was his 2BHK independent house, nestled in interior Mylapore in Chennai. An inherited one, the house was old both on the inside as well as on the façade of it. Construction was deemed unworthy, so much so that just renovating the bathrooms and the electricity lines made him struggle to make ends meet. Thus, the idea of complete renovation was dropped beyond recall.

He cleared his throat and uttered. “I shall go and ask if they can give another pillow.” Nandu fluttered her eyes in disgust and replied, “You better GET… No ifs and buts… And listen! Don’t search for the caretakers… Directly go to the bride’s room and complain to Ranganathan athimber (sister’s husband).”

Nandu was blissfully alone in the room, very far from her graceless routine. A few minutes ago, someone from the catering service had brought a string of mid-morning refreshments as part of their room service to the guests.

Half an hour had passed and there was no sign of Gopalan. Lavanya had also gone down to play with her age groups. Nandu was blissfully alone in the room, very far from her graceless routine. A few minutes ago, someone from the catering service had brought a string of mid-morning refreshments as part of their room service to the guests. Three beverages and four varieties of snacks.

Extravagance? Yes, indeed.

After fiercely devouring the breakfast, Nandu wished to play it safe. She just took a cup of coffee and a small plate of salted cashews. Piping hot filter coffee served in a beautiful ceramic cup and saucer set; when was the last time she was pampered like this?

Sipping on the aroma filled coffee, Nandu overheard an argument going on outside. It was her distant cousin Saritha; grumbling over the small sized room provided for her six membered family. Nandu chuckled.

Sipping on the aroma filled coffee, Nandu overheard an argument going on outside. It was her distant cousin Saritha; grumbling over the small sized room provided for her six membered family. Nandu chuckled. Thank God she could come early and grab this room. And now, she got a chance to show off by letting some relatives sleep in her room. Somehow, Nandu never learnt to lose. No matter how insignificant she was always made to feel, or how incompetent her real life was, she hardly failed to project herself on par with the others.

There was a knock at the door. It was Gopalan, carrying two pillows under his arms.

“How much time you took…My God!” Nandu mumbled.

“No…Actually, Murali Anna caught hold of me…He wanted to introduce me to…” Gopalan stopped when he saw Nandu’s darkening expression.

Nandu curled up her eyebrows. What was there in Gopalan to get an introduction?

Nandu curled up her eyebrows. What was there in Gopalan to get an introduction? Anyway, before their conversation could go ahead, Lavanya entered the room panting.

“Ennachu?” (What happened?) Nandu raised her finger and commanded. “Don’t run around too much…You have a tendency to vomit.”

“Nooo Amma, I won’t.” Lavanya took a pause and spoke. “I just came to tell you…That… One blue saree paati asked me to call my mother.”

“Aiyyooo Ramaa!” Nandu exclaimed. “Must be Malathi Akka. Perhaps she needs me to draw kolam.”

Nandu went to the mirror and all of a sudden, her peacock green saree no longer soothed her taste. She took out a navy-blue saree from her bag and matched it with that existing maroon blouse.

Nandu went to the mirror and all of a sudden, her peacock green saree no longer soothed her taste. She took out a navy-blue saree from her bag and matched it with that existing maroon blouse. “It will have to do.” She murmured.

Gopalan, who sat on the couch watching his wife’s unnecessary concern, suddenly mustered courage to ask “For kolam, why do you need to change the saree?”

Nandu glowered at him through the mirror. Just because someone showed some interest in introducing Gopalan, he had picked up enough courage to question her.

Draping the blue saree around, she sneered. “If you had ever given me a pure Kanjivaram, I would have happily worn it throughout the day… Is it not? Seen the lady on our opposite table? For the first day breakfast itself she was draped in Raasi Silks Kanjivaram… Huh!”

Gopalan kept quiet. Nandu wasn’t wrong. She hardly had expensive sarees to wear. The only Kanjivaram which she received during her marriage was neither pure silk nor very expensive and after a couple of uses it tore as well.

Gopalan kept quiet. Nandu wasn’t wrong. She hardly had expensive sarees to wear. The only Kanjivaram which she received during her marriage was neither pure silk nor very expensive and after a couple of uses it tore as well. Nandu’s eyes had often glittered seeing the beautiful sarees and jewelleries of her other cousins. In many gatherings, Gopalan had witnessed his wife putting a false façade of being rich. Many stories Nandu had crafted over the years. Sometimes she declared her artificial necklaces as pure gold, which obviously was never believed, rather reaped many gossips. Some days she tried to justify her preference over fixed deposits or liquid cash over jewels. And regarding her sarees, she was often found claiming her false Chiffon as pure Crepe Silk or a cheap synthetic saree as a Tussar. The costliest saree that she had in her closet was not a pure silk; rather a silk cotton one. To bedim her lack, she once trumpeted how the grace of Kanjivarams had gone down in the market.

Nandu looked at her repentant husband while fastening her earrings. “Now…Don’t be shocked when I tell people that this GOLD earrings you gave me on my last birthday.”

Gopalan watched those earrings curiously. When did he give that? Most importantly he couldn’t even recall when her birthday was. That pair of earrings was much like a miniature version of a shiny chandelier.

Gopalan watched those earrings curiously. When did he give that? Most importantly he couldn’t even recall when her birthday was. That pair of earrings was much like a miniature version of a shiny chandelier. His scattered thoughts were immediately snuffed out once Nandu spoke. “If I am putting up with your puny pocket, you better put up with my innocent lies… Simple.”

Nandu’s room, the first one on the second floor, opened just next to the lift. Bhuvana Athai stood there, waiting for the lift along with her two daughters-in-law. They offered Nandu to join them; however, seeing all of them heavily decked up, she tactfully avoided any interaction and took the steps.

What a majestic Kalyanamandpam! More like a Maharaja’s palace. Nandu slowly climbed down those black granite steps of the ornate staircase, eyeballing every element of beauty around. Wide steps, clean and shining; the railings enrobed with real jasmine flowers.

What a majestic Kalyanamandpam! More like a Maharaja’s palace. Nandu slowly climbed down those black granite steps of the ornate staircase, eyeballing every element of beauty around. Wide steps, clean and shining; the railings enrobed with real jasmine flowers. Landing spaces had beautiful vases with luscious red roses. Maroon and beige coloured curtains of satin stood tall, covering the glass façade. In short, everything around Nandu was utterly unachievable for her. And, for anyone like Malathi Akka whose daughter was the bride, it was just another piece of cake.

“Naraya velai irukku pa… Chumma unnoda irukka mudiyathu.” (I’ve lots of work to do…Cannot be with you the whole day)

It was Saritha, supervising the decoration at the dining area.  Embittered by the unexpected treatment, she poured her frustration on the catering and decoration boys. Being the eldest cousin in the family and the match-maker for the yet-to-be-wed couple, she expected to get special treatment. However, she getting the smaller room and Nandu, the almost no-entity female of the family latching onto the biggest room, was it anything less than an insult?

For the time being, Saritha decided to blow off this issue and was half-heartedly engrossed in overseeing the nitty-gritty. But it was a bare truth that Saritha would sell this topic at the right time.

For the time being, Saritha decided to blow off this issue and was half-heartedly engrossed in overseeing the nitty-gritty. But it was a bare truth that Saritha would sell this topic at the right time. She was astute in pressing the weakest nerves of people as and when required. Just to demean the opponent and jut out her (bogus) supremacy.

Going by the same tide, Nandu was no slouch in stirring up the hornet’s nest either. She cemented her usual artificial all-happy smile and set off a conversation with Saritha.

“Haaaiii Saritha Akka! Looong time… Sooo good to see you.”

That forged joy and forced smile on her face along with that inflated greeting, Nandu’s pretence stood nude. Saritha never liked her.

That forged joy and forced smile on her face along with that inflated greeting, Nandu’s pretence stood nude. Saritha never liked her. Affluence overflowing, she never shied away from throwing derogatory remarks to Nandu.

Saritha looked at Nandu, who was fidgeting with her earring. Probably expecting Saritha to enquire. But, no. Saritha didn’t.  She smirked instead; one eyebrow arched and with hefty disgust at the corner of her lips she said. “Oho Nandu…Still hopping eh? In search of something good I hope…”

Here, it should be cleared that Nandu was an acquired name of our protagonist. Her actual name was Sugandhakuntalambal. But, her habit of hopping around here and there fetched her with the title of NANDU.

Here, it should be cleared that Nandu was an acquired name of our protagonist. Her actual name was Sugandhakuntalambal. But, her habit of hopping around here and there fetched her with the title of NANDU. It meant CRAB in Tamil. And the name was postulated and promulgated by the same Saritha. Over the years, others dropped the reason and spelled Nandu affectionately, while Saritha’s rendering remained harsh.

“Ha ha ha.” Nandu laughed out loud. Her melodramatic action drew the desired attention. The workers and even few of the wandering guests took a pause to watch her in wonder.

Saritha shouted at another helper just to show her disinterest in Nandu, who grinned and uttered. “Actually Akka, I just came to tell you that if anyone is uncomfortable in your room, they can come and sleep in my room…You know…Mattress on the floor or couch is there.”

And that was like pulling the pin on a grenade. Saritha would have slapped her then and there, if only Malathi hadn’t intruded.

Malathi was amongst the very few who had a soft corner for Nandu. Might be for her dearth, but nothing of that sort was ever disclosed. Somehow, she rescued Nandu from Saritha’s wrath…

Malathi was amongst the very few who had a soft corner for Nandu. Might be for her dearth, but nothing of that sort was ever disclosed. Somehow, she rescued Nandu from Saritha’s wrath and took her to the store room where she needed Nandu’s help in arranging the return gifts.

Nandu was knocked for a loop. How many guests and how many gifts? The room had hardly any place to sit. There were never ending towers of cartons, stacked one atop another. Some carried the sticker of ‘sarees’, while others were with artefacts. Some silver, some brass and some were tagged as anonymous. So many marriages Nandu had attended, never had she seen such generosity in gifting the guests.

“Nandu, I just need you in putting the sarees in gift bags…I shall give you the saree…You put it in a bag and write the name I tell you. Seri ah?” Malathi uttered and unloaded the whole carton of sarees.

Nandu was gobsmacked. Each saree was of pure silk. Various shades of red, blue, pink, orange. Name a colour and it was there.

Nandu was gobsmacked. Each saree was of pure silk. Various shades of red, blue, pink, orange. Name a colour and it was there. Wide zari borders, beautiful motifs, the sarees bought for gifting weren’t far from any bridal attire.

Malathi handed each saree with a name, Nandu packed it in the given bag and wrote the name on the bag without uttering a word. Howbeit, some impish thoughts did flutter in her mind. Like, what would Saraswathi Maami do with this heavy maroon Kanjivaram? For Padma Chitti a simple cotton saree was more than enough.

To sum up her thoughts, Malathi Akka had been too generous (wrongly) towards those who would never appreciate the value of such beautiful piece of six yards.

To sum up her thoughts, Malathi Akka had been too generous (wrongly) towards those who would never appreciate the value of such beautiful piece of six yards. Sarees kept coming and with each recipient’s name Nandu conceived her views.

“Everything looks okay no Nandu?”

‘O-K-A-Y? It is way too much.’ Something whispered inside Nandu. She stashed that whisper and said, “Everything is as beautiful as you are… Don’t worry.”

No matter how petty her certificates were, Nandu dominated almost anyone in bootlicking.

“Actually.” Little bloated with the compliment, Malathi giggled. “I am gifting sarees for the first line of relatives only. Like my own Athais, Periammas… my own sisters, sisters-in-law you know… And of course the groom’s side.”

Finding Nandu looking slightly dismayed, Malathi put out in a conciliatory tone. “It’s not that you guys are not my own… You know how much I love you all. That is why I am gifting you guys this silver lamp,”

Finding Nandu looking slightly dismayed, Malathi put out in a conciliatory tone. “It’s not that you guys are not my own… You know how much I love you all. That is why I am gifting you guys this silver lamp,” and her hand presented a puny looking silver lamp.

Nandu smiled, packed another saree and appraised the person in front of her; Malathi never plucked out the distant ones. She always kept everyone close-knit.

And then, the last saree slithered in. Copper brown base, black borders with oblique square designs and the pallu; Oh God! Heavenly to say the least. Beautiful peacock designs with an intricate green thread work on the wings, as if puffing life in the bird.

Malathi opened the saree fully. Nandu didn’t understand why. Was it for her? Never possible. It was a Paithani silk after all. For its starting price, Nandu used to buy her monthly groceries.

Malathi opened the saree fully. Nandu didn’t understand why. Was it for her? Never possible. It was a Paithani silk after all. For its starting price, Nandu used to buy her monthly groceries. Her trembling fingers felt the saree. Soft as a rose petal, the body of the saree had lotus motifs woven into it.

“This is for Saritha…Paithani Silk… Okay no?” Malathi uttered.

What? Did she say Saritha?

A melange of emotions brewed within. Why for Saritha? She was also a cousin. Nandu couldn’t understand what she felt at that very moment. Was it anger or grief? Or was her eternal envy towards Saritha and her opulence making her feel so?

A melange of emotions brewed within. Why for Saritha? She was also a cousin. Nandu couldn’t understand what she felt at that very moment. Was it anger or

grief? Or was her eternal envy towards Saritha and her opulence making her feel so? The turmoil slowly hollowed out her soul.

Malathi, on the other hand kept narrating how Saritha never wanted anything, how much she helped them in getting this match and blah-blah. But nothing made sense to Nandu. She kept fondling the saree and her innards kept shouting… This should be mine…At any cost.

“For all that she has done for us, I shall gift this to Saritha before anyone gets to know…Some might feel bad no.” Malathi finished.

Some? Nandu was the first and foremost, or might be the only one to feel bad. A Paithani silk for Saritha and a small silver lamp for her. What would she do with the lamp? Light it in front of God who never even tried to look at her plight? With a perfectly phoney joy glued on to her face, Nandu thanked Malathi for the lamp and left the place for her room.

Nothing could comfort her. Neither the delectable lunch nor Rangan athimber’s gracious hospitality. Nandu spent the whole afternoon, locked inside her room chiding her fate. The malice within her fostered further and she just decided to get that particular saree at any cost.

The evening sprouted its wings with the Sangeet ceremony, a relatively new-fangled concept in Tamil weddings and then was followed by a grand reception. Every age group shook their legs to popular Bollywood numbers. Fun and frolic all around but there sat Nandu in one corner with a plate of spring-rolls chalking out a plan. Her eyes stalked Saritha wherever she went. She was all happy, glowing in her usual snobbery with her equals. Even Malathi was looking less ruffled while interacting with Saritha. Certainly, the Paithani had gone to its chosen recipient. So Nandu had to start the next dawn in pursuit of Paithani. Beg-Borrow-Steal…Whatever needed.

The next day witnessed Nandu in a completely different ilk. One who would usually go around the stage as a helping hand for performing the marriage rituals that too in a traditional Madisar was nowhere near the happenings?

The next day witnessed Nandu in a completely different ilk. One who would usually go around the stage as a helping hand for performing the marriage rituals that too in a traditional Madisar was nowhere near the happenings? Nandu sat somewhere in the gathering in a simple brown faux-silk saree. No jewellery except her Mangalsutra and a small stud in the ears. No gaudy hair accessory, no make-up, nothing. Her eyes were fixed on Saritha who was busy attending the most important guests. Nandu waited petulantly for her to be a little free and of course alone.

‘Let me talk it out with Saritha’ Nandu reasoned. Saritha was an inborn show-off. To boast her generosity in the future she could easily give off the Paithani saree to Nandu.

Once got a chance Nandu pounced on it. “Akka…” Before Nandu could compose further Saritha interrupted her insolently. “Nandu, I don’t need your room…Actually, I think you don’t know that I fixed up this match. So Rangan and Malathi decided to put my family in that nearby Taj… You know no? Five-star hotel.” Saritha smirked.

Nandu rolled her fists in anger. She could have blasted Saritha for her caustic tongue, however, the sheer thought of the Paithani held her back. Instead, she giggled and pleated a long chain of apology along with few specks of gratitude.

Nandu rolled her fists in anger. She could have blasted Saritha for her caustic tongue, however, the sheer thought of the Paithani held her back. Instead, she giggled and pleated a long chain of apology along with few specks of gratitude. And that’s it! Snobbish Saritha was now easy to tame. Nandu was smart enough to run around the bushes at first and then suddenly latch onto the desired topic at the opportune moment.

“Your saree is soooo beautiful Akka.” Nandu crooned.

Saritha fondled her mustard colour borderless trendy Kanjivaram and said, “Not much…16K…Got it from Nalli Silks this time.”

Huh! Who was talking about this one? Nandu tucked away her displeasure and jumped to the point. “Yes, it is…But didn’t you like the Paithani Silk which Malathi Akka gave you?”

“Oh, that one.” Saritha didn’t look very happy.

Wow! She didn’t like perhaps. So Nandu was one step closer to grabbing that.

Saritha thought for a while and spoke again. “Actually, Malathi didn’t get anything good for my co-sister…

Saritha thought for a while and spoke again. “Actually, Malathi didn’t get anything good for my co-sister…She is groom’s aunt also and she felt really bad…So I gave that saree to her.”

hit! Where would Nandu find this co-sister now? How could she ask for the saree from her? This Saritha turned out to be one good-for-nothing nutcase. A splash of disgust covered her mien and Nandu left Saritha in the middle of nowhere.

Quite some time went wasted in finding and befriending that co-sister and Nandu was still in dearth of the right moment to ask for the saree. A stroke of good luck came by when that ever-complaining co-sister raised the topic of substandard gifts.

Quite some time went wasted in finding and befriending that co-sister and Nandu was still in dearth of the right moment to ask for the saree. A stroke of good luck came by when that ever-complaining co-sister raised the topic of substandard gifts. Nandu was irritated, still played along until the word saree cropped up. However, Nandu’s fears were compounded when she realized that this co-sister had transferred the saree to Saritha’s daughter in law, Rashmi who apparently wept for not getting a saree.

What was wrong with people? Rashmi cried for saree! When did she start wearing sarees? Last night, all the eyes in the Kalyanamandapam were piercing her when she roamed around in a newspaper print off-shoulder gown. It was so funny to look at. The frills had random faces, weird news clips and the worst was the absurd headlines printed right on top of her bosom. Wasn’t that a hilarious sight! Saritha was so embarrassed watching her dance that she spewed all her anger on poor Venkat, her own son.

Somehow, this pursuit of Paithani was becoming another never-ending struggle for Nandu. She meandered through the whole gathering in search of Rashmi. Even asked a few and those few were left wondering about this sudden quest of an equally needless soul.

Somehow, this pursuit of Paithani was becoming another never-ending struggle for Nandu. She meandered through the whole gathering in search of Rashmi. Even asked a few and those few were left wondering about this sudden quest of an equally needless soul. Venkat was as usual clueless, Saritha was no longer a suitable person to bother and now Nandu was left treading on pins and needles. Not much time was left for the rituals to get over. Rashmi might decide to leave early. These days, with that NRI tag, she despised all these traditions and more often took the liberty to overstep Saritha’s control. Nandu was soaking in grief and there Lavanya came to her with a news of relief. Rashmi was in the garden, overseeing her twins who were playing there.

A heavily embroidered lehenga-choli, neither beige nor crème in colour, over-embellished with tiny mirrors all over and a sea green netted chunni; the ensemble vouched for nothing but a tacky taste. Much tackier than what she wore last night. And with the stiffened can-can inside, Rashmi was hardly able to move. Nandu watched her from far. Dark skinned, reed thin, she would look terrible in that gorgeous creation of a saree. And most importantly, where would she wear that saree in the US? That would invite an unnecessary anomaly in her life.

Done! Nandu shaped her thoughts and approached Rashmi. The humble Rashmi of yesteryears, who would touch everyone’s feet, was now a hifalutin buffoon. She gaped at Nandu and declared with an utter flippancy that she had kept the saree as a prize for the winner of Nalangu ritual, which Rashmi was asked to organize.

(Nalangu-Several games played between the bride’s and groom’s family after the marriage is done)

Come what may, Nandu had to rescue the saree from these moneyed morons. Neither they valued Malathi’s emotions nor would they treasure the possession of a Paithani Silk.

Disgraceful. Outrageous. And humiliating for none but the saree itself. A Paithani Silk deserved an honour which none of these bull-headed women could

understand. Come what may, Nandu had to rescue the saree from these moneyed morons. Neither they valued Malathi’s emotions nor would they treasure the possession of a Paithani Silk. Nandu now decided to participate in the Nalangu and earn the prize no matter what.

The practice of Nalangu commenced after lunch. It usually involved the immediate family of the bride and groom. Finding Nandu’s name as a participant was awkward for all. Much more awkward was Nandu’s appearance. Hair tied in a top-knot, clad in a salwar-kameez with the chunni tied across; was she there to play Kabaddi or kho-kho? She didn’t even have her lunch.

Rashmi wanted to break the monotony. So, she scripted for some novel games. She proclaimed to be the inventor of those games quite a number of times and all the backscratchers of Saritha cheered for her. However, Nandu knew the truth behind the source. Youtube! Many an afternoon she had spent watching them, once she got her Jio connection.

Session started. Dropping the balls into a glass tumbler, sucking the thermocol balls using a straw, drawing on balloons. In all the three games, the bride’s side won with Nandu topping the score board.

Session started. Dropping the balls into a glass tumbler, sucking the thermocol balls using a straw, drawing on balloons. In all the three games, the bride’s side won with Nandu topping the score board. Though claps echoed in the hall, everyone breathed an unease. A dire rumour was being passed around that these unusual games were planned to belittle the groom’s family.

Malathi requested for a small break before the last game. She took Nandu to a corner and requested her to lose, as the groom’s mother was her opponent this time. Nandu was offended. She couldn’t lose her last chance to win that saree.

The game was ‘Fix bangles on candle wax’. On a wooden board, the participants were asked to stick bangles on slightly molten candle wax. Whoever could attach more bangles in one minute would be the winner.

The game was ‘Fix bangles on candle wax’. On a wooden board, the participants were asked to stick bangles on slightly molten candle wax. Whoever could attach more bangles in one minute would be the winner. Nandu was asked to do it first. She looked at Malathi whose pleading eyes were making her weak. Malathi signalled her to go slow and fix only five bangles. Nandu obeyed and she accepted her loss, for she knew one minute wouldn’t be over until groom’s mother crossed 5.

Nandu was disheartened as she watched groom’s mother already ripping off all the praises even before she started. But what’s that? All of a sudden, a voice screamed and a waft of silence stretched out. A faction of ladies surrounded the groom’s mother and there created a chaos. Someone called out for first-aid, some ran towards the kitchen to seek help.

Within a few seconds Nandu got to know that her opponent burnt her finger in the candle. Ouch! Sad. So? What about the game? Nobody was talking about it. Nandu saw Saritha. She was spouting fire, ushering all unkind taunts towards Rashmi for devising such dangerous games. Least bothered about anyone there, Nandu’s eyes were fixed on the rectangular box wrapped in a pink gift wrapper. All of a sudden everyone’s attention was drawn as Malathi suspended the whole ritual of Nalangu with a heartfelt apology.

O-K-A-Y.

Even when a cricket match gets suspended due to rain, a winner is declared using Duckworth-Lewis method. So, who was the winner? Nandu. By all means. She clapped for herself leaving everyone in awe.

Even when a cricket match gets suspended due to rain, a winner is declared using Duckworth-Lewis method. So, who was the winner? Nandu. By all means. She clapped for herself leaving everyone in awe. Neither anyone understood nor did they wish to. All tired and quite unhappy with the ending, they all dispersed to their respective rooms, leaving Nandu alone with her failed achievement. But to Nandu’s dismay, the groom’s mother was handed over the pink box containing the saree.

The pink box mocked at Nandu from the tight clasp of groom’s mother. Nandu couldn’t leave that now. After so much of toil the Paithani Silk was now her rightful possession. She had to get it from that winner-by-mercy groom’s mother.

Nandu watched her going inside her room. Many ladies followed her. Some to apologise, like Saritha and Rashmi; some to instigate a conflict while some just went to witness if any dispute sewed in. Nandu didn’t go in. She waited patiently for everyone to leave.

Groom’s mother was now all alone busy in packing her stuffs. Nandu slipped in. The precious pink box lay abandoned in the corner.

Groom’s mother was now all alone busy in packing her stuffs. Nandu slipped in. The precious pink box lay abandoned in the corner. Did she even know it was a Paithani silk? Idiot!

“I am so sorry to hear about you Madam.” Nandu uttered.

“Who are you?” The groom’s mother tried to recall. Too much, no? Forgot that very person whose prize you grabbed…

Nandu concealed her disgust. “I am Malathi’s sister…Was playing with you.” Her eyes were pitying that pink box.

“Oh yeah!” Groom’s mother pretended to be too busy.

Ah! The air she lugged around, God! She could give Saritha a run for her money.

“I just came to…” Nandu stopped as the lady banged the bathroom door on her face. Nandu didn’t speak a word further. Consumed by anger and disgust she locked the bathroom door from outside and took away the pink box and left.

Let that lady drown in her own snobbery in that locked bathroom!

***

That’s it! Nandu’s pursuit of Paithani ended there. Even a life seemed so unworthy before a Paithani silk saree that Nandu could leave the groom’s mother locked there.

A few weeks later it was heard that Malathi had gifted a Paithani Silk to Nandu after hearing a chain of confessions from Saritha and Rashmi.  However, it was peculiar to see none bothered about the pink box or its contents.

A few weeks later it was heard that Malathi had gifted a Paithani Silk to Nandu after hearing a chain of confessions from Saritha and Rashmi.  However, it was peculiar to see none bothered about the pink box or its contents. The groom’s mother never knew about its significance and Malathi assumed the box to be with the in-laws. So all in peace. The happy ending of the story in the truest sense was for Nandu who had earned two beautiful sarees for her wardrobe.

***

Must be wondering about me, no? I was the one who unlocked the bathroom door for the groom’s mother. How am I related? Leave that. Many like me wander in every gathering, stealing a glance of such curious cases in a big fat Indian Wedding.

***

Photos from the Internet