In defense of being a WWE fan

I love watching WWE, and can totally empathise with Zohra Sehgal in her fabulous Cameo in Cheeni Kum!! She is hasseled by AB’s behaviour and watches WWE mushtande, gabru men and taunts her bachelor son all the while bullying him to go to the gym. She is tactful, spunky and full of crass humor. Old wine and an even older bottle. Yeah, and she even threatens to leave him and go to Haridwar … something I do pretty regularly – though my sons turn around at tell me that I am a total fraud. In my defense, I developed a taste for WWE when I bonded with my sons, sitting and cheering Triple H, Rock and others.

One might view the WWE as nothing but a combination of gymnastic moves, extensive training and dedication bundled with muscular structure and poise. However, if you really look at what they do and how they do it this really is a tough sport. One night you take two bumps, the next night three, the night after that a chair shot, the week after that a suplex on the concrete. You may be bruised, a bit achy, and then maybe 5-10 years down the road and you can’t walk. This is a serious sport!

In defence of watching WWE

1. I love the muscular athletes : the mushtande are good eye candy
2. I watch it for entertainment value. It’s funny, and even sometimes really dramatic. Like for example seeing a real-life backstage drama being exploited on TV, which has been done numerous times.
3. Wrestling is not a combat sport, it’s not real fighting, it’s just a form of entertainment. It is immensely popular and I watch for that, entertainment as movies
4. The matches are scripted, full of athleticism, amazing high flying moves, hardcore brawling and/or scientific mat wrestling or holds along with the over the top interveiws and compelling storylines that can hold your attention..
5. Even the women wrestlers are good eye candy. A good athlete is a pleasure to watch.
6. I’m a sucker for huge pops/crowd reactions because sometimes they can just be so awe inspiring to see thousands and thousands of people on their feet screaming their hearts out.
7. The catch lines “If you smelllllllllll what the Rock is cooking!!!” and others.

 

Kid#1's wedding video – 26 kisses, tears and a fall

Kid #1 and his bride were on their honeymoon when the photographer rang me up.The album and the cd were ready and could I please get them collected. High time … I thought, and collected them on the way home. Kid#2 and I ordered a pizza for dinner, and sat down to relive the two functions. The wedding video was worth every penny I paid for it.

It began with shots of the bride with the varmaala and the groom all done up in sehra astride the ghodi. They really looked gorgeous. Then the credits rolled ……. DIL d/o etc etc and Kid#1, son of etc etc, venue, date and time – all in comic sans serif font, with a ticker tape running at the bottom of the screen of Kid#1 kissing DIL. Hindu weddings are social events, not exactly the kind of occasion where the priest would announce … “You may kiss the bride” so this was good. Nice footage, I must say.

Just as we were recovering from that one came the shot of DIL being lifted up by her brothers to garland the groom (she is tiny and Kid#1 had been coached to not bend and make it easy for her). As soon as she managed to garland the groom, she yelled a triumphant “Yes” and she staged an impromptu bhangra. Of course that moment was recorded, and put on repeat on a ticker tape at the bottom of the screen.

Whenever stuff got boring and routine on the cd, the photographer, bless his soul, ran a one minute ticker tape of either the kiss or the bhangra.

Then there is routine stuff like the bhangra by Kid#1’s pals when we arrived at the venue – followed by my fall. DIL’s friends and cousins had tied a ribbon at the gate and refused to allow us inside the venue until the groom shelled out some cash. Kid#1’s cousins and pals, caught in the enthusiasm of the moment pushed their way in. I was standing next to Kid#1 and can not balance too well on heels and in a sari.

I fell. I guess it was brilliant photo-op, and has been captured for all posterity. Needless to say DIL’s cousins sulked all through the wedding because we had gate-crashed, and the DIL’s family pampered me a lot because I fell. I am glad that the fall wasn’t put on a repeat and on ticker tape. Probably the photographer knew that I was footing the bill and wisely refrained.

There is this unedited footage in slow motion of Kid#1 and DIL sitting down on the stage after the varmaala, my darling son looking totally smitten by his bride and bending down to kiss her. She saw the kiss coming and smartly turned her face so that the kiss landed on her cheek. It is all there … in slow motion.(This is the kiss that has been flashed all through the video).

Two of my aunts have not been getting along too well and all through the one week of wedding celebrations, we had been entertained by sniper fire between the two of them. The grand finale must have happened at the wedding, because there is a shot of one of them in tears, walking away huffily from the other. Pity the music drowned what the other one said … it must have been something!!!Now I will never know.

The vidai scene is touching. DIL was very brave and kept assuring every one that she was just moving to the next block of houses – so what’s the big deal … that is until her father hugged her. Then the water works started.

The cd ends with a shot at centre-screen of the kiss, surrounded by mini shots of DIL doing the bhangra.

In short, the cd was total paisa vasool.

It was eleven p.m. but I could not resist. I rang up the honeymooners and said

Me : Heyy, been watching your wedding cd right now

Kid#1 : How’s it?

Me : You kissed DIL on the stage and it’s all over the cd

Kid#1 : (After a moment of stunned silence) I did???

Me : Yeah, and it’s been repeated more than 26 times.

Kid#1 : (horrified) No way!

Me : Yup I counted

I simply love the cd …. and can watch it time and again. Of course I look forward to grossing their offsprings totally by making them view it when they are teenagers

My elder son's wedding Part 4

GET ME TO THE MANDAP IN TIME

During the period between the Roka and the actual wedding both the boys wanted to know more about the rituals from all and sundry. I could not help much since I am (their words) irreverent, have a corny sense of humour and can not resist the temptation to exaggerate with the sole purpose of torturing my sons. So I smiled sweetly and told them weddings are womens’ things and they would be spared all the drama

Poor Kid#1 – he fell for it.

By this time DIL and I had bonded extremely well. Nothing bonds women better than shopping for clothes and jewellery, I must say. I rang her up and related this entire conversation to her. We were in splits. Oh yes, another common ground for bonding is ganging up together on the poor man sandwiched between wife and mother.

Deliciously wicked

Kid#1 was being given much bhav by his in-laws. It reminded me of fattening of a calf before slaughter and I said so. Ouch!!!Sundry friends and relatives enlightened me that soon my son would change his loyalties etc. etc. Duh! I am the most un-maternal parent, and would love it if someone else took charge of my brats. Besides, he had been like an angry porcupine lately … what with all that shopping and other chores, that I was looking forward to handing him over, quills and all to his wife.

D.Day dawned and he got his first nasty surprise. We had the haldi ceremony. He had firmly told me that he would have none of that nonsense. DIL and I had sweet-talked him into agreeing to a small ritual. What he did not realize was that all his pals were waiting in the sidelines. As soon as he sat down, they pounced.

Second nasty surprise … I had called some beauty parlour guys home for the bridegroom. He looked at me totally baffled and said, “I am not getting all this shit done” I smiled sweetly, picked up my mobile and asked while punching the number “Should I tell DIL? She suggested that we do this.” Poor guy, he had just washed all that haldi stuff off himself and he got a face pack on. After the manicure and pedicure, the guy asked, “Sir, nail polish ka shade select karo” and Kid#1 turned purple as his eyes dared me to react.

Third nasty surprise …. The flower guys came to decorate the nuptial bed. I wisely disappeared at this point, and the various relatives had a field day pulling the groom’s leg. He refused to get the bed decorated, so a compromise was achieved. Just two huge flower arrangements in the bedroom – thank you so much.

Some of the ladies sweetly told him “Go to sleep beta, its going to be a long night”. I must say, no one but a Punjaban can deliver such a simple line with such a wicked punch. Kid#1 stomped off muttering huffily, “I feel like a pansy, I even smell like one! Gah! Even my room smells girlie” LOLL, Yeah kiddo, you better get used to it.

Fourth nasty surprise … he had put his foot down firmly …. no ghodi (horse). When we stepped out, there was this ghodi. I pacified him with the now standard plea, “Beta rituals etc etc and your FIL wanted you to at least sit on one for a photo”. He could have killed me then, but then who would do all the work? He climbed on sullenly for a few photos and got down and we left for the venue.

Fifth nasty surprise … another ghodi was waiting for him at the venue. He did not throw a tantrum there … all his lovely sister in laws were waiting inside the gate, smiling at him. He climbed on and we reached the gate with much fanfare. Phew!!!!

Once there, I escorted him to his throne …. and sat down to watch as the bride’s family took over. My baby, I had him to myself for 24 long years and I love him to bits. He looked so handsome.

Good Luck, my little Prince – may you and your bride have a wonderful life together.

 

My elder son's wedding Part 3

THE COCKTAILS

DIL’s parents are good people and very very responsible parents. I am totally awed by them.. They did all the traditional and good stuff like having poojas and carting off both my boys along with their offsprings to various sacred places and getting them blessed. I simply love them for it. In a few months’ time, i.e. six months from the roka, they had solved the problem of relating to me by treating me just like they treated DIL. They would scold both of us in the same breath for overspending and over shopping, and try to restrain us from our excesses. In other words I felt right at home with them.

Then came the shopping and the sulks. No shaadi can happen without them. Like Mad Momma says Weddings are for women, by women and about women. Men are just there to facilitate it. Kid#1just did not get it. It was his wedding too, and why did I have to freak out buying loads of pink/red/maroon/orange glittery stuff and jewellery worth loads of money for DIL. What about him?? It did not help that his beloved and his mother looked at him blankly and said “Huh?! What about you, you’re getting your bride aren’t ya?” Mercifully he did not complain too vocally, just kept sulking. Since he is the quiet sort normally, we ignored him happily.

The wedding was in the last week of January and in the interest of having a good time I opted to host a cocktail party cum shagun cum ladies sangeet a few days before the wedding. My feet were killing me by this time and even when I closed my eyes in the night, escalators of malls and glittery saris floated in front of my eyes. I had seen enough bling to last me a long long time. This mother of the groom had had enough, and needed to unwind. I mean, weddings are supposed to be fun, right? And I don’t have parents to stop me, and the traditions were being satisfied by DIL’s side. So I could be myself and do some stuff my way. I must add over here that my sons and DIL also egged me on. Kid#1 and DIL actually refused to have a reception in lieu of a totally rocking cocktail. She did not compromise on the engagement ring though ….. sigh!!!!! It is beautiful but was frightfully expensive.

So we had a non traditional cocktail party. We organized a live band, Kid#1 wanted rock music, but thankfully compromised. My ear drums and dental fillings still thank him for it. DIL wanted to wear a sexy black dress and not a saree. I had no problems with that one. Her wedding right?? And her lovely figure and cleavage … she could do what she wanted. On the D Day the photographers were in a tizzy – they kept asking in total confusion “Aunty, dulhan kaun hai?” I kept pointing at the hot stuff at centrestage happily “Voh aapki dulhan hai, uska photo lo” until someone corrected me – “Say Voh humari dulhan hai, for godssake!!”.

The cocktails were out in the open at a farm house, and the weather was pleasant – mercifully, no rains. All those visits to various shrines bore fruit I guess … it was good weather. For the life of me I can not remember much of the actual party. I remember nervously waiting for the guests, then I remember greeting DIL and her family. By that time I must have had two drinks. After that, it is very hazy.

After the wedding, the bride and groom had gone for their honeymoon when DILs parents called me over to see the wedding album. Their photographer had been more efficient than ours – so their album and video came much earlier. I was very excited and went to their home straight from work. You can just imagine my horrified reaction when I saw the album of the function, there are FOUR candid shots of me of me downing wine straight from the bottle!!! Oooops!!!

Well anyways ….. But the best photos of that event are Kid#1 on his knees with the ring in front of DIL with this lovesick smile on his face. An enlarged version of that one now adorns their bedroom. And of course the priceless shot of Kid#2 being kissed on his cheeks simultaneously by two of DIL and Kid#1’s female friends. He has this huge smile on his face … totally ecstatic!!! That 17 year old was in heaven

My elder son's wedding Part 2

THE ROKA

At the very outset, let me assure you that the entire story is the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God     

Honest!!!  Even though I have fertile imagination, I could not have invented this.  You have to admit this is vintage blogging material.     

I knew DIL as one of Kid#1’s group of friends, no surprises there …. so had no problems with the match.  I suppose her parents thought likewise.  Things progressed fast.  I discovered that Kid#1 could be quite obedient, provided I routed my demands through DIL, and so made hay while the sun shone.  Many life changing decisions were reached thanks to the good offices of DIL.  Then came the Roka …. the initial pooja held to declare the intent to marry so to speak.  I was in favour of a long engagement, her parents wanted a formal declaration.  Since I could empathise with their point of view  (they are the ladki vale) - we had the ROKA.

The day dawned bright and clear.  I sent both the boys to get their hair cuts, get the handy cam organised etc etc while I got busy with the millions of things parents of a groom have to do at the last minute.  I have outlived my immediate family so had invited my mother’s sister and husband as family for the ceremony.  It was terribly hot that day.  August normally is not so hot.  We had to reach DIL’s maika at 7 p.m.  I normally dont wear saris or make up.  So whenever the occaision demands, I go to a beauty parlour to dress up.  It is easy and they do a better job than I ever could.  By 5 p.m. I had left for the parlour, the plan being that Kid#2 would go with my uncle and aunt to DIL’s maika which is 5 minutes from our place, and Kid#1 and I would follow by 7 pm.  It started raining by 6 p.m.  By 6.30 p.m. it was a deluge.  Somehow Kid#1 who was looking very very handsome in his fine suit, and I (much bedecked in saree and jewellery) got into the car and we started driving down to DIL’s home.   We looked at the watch, it was 7 p.m. and we were out of petrol.  We started driving to the petrol pump, which was almost impossible …. since all the roads were flooded.  Somehow we persevered, all the while blaming each other for the lapse in judgement.  Dammit we should have filled the tank a day earlier.  Then things started getting really interesting.

1. We had almost reached the petrol pump, when the car got waterlogged and died out.

2. The entire city’s power supply went.

3. While we were wondering what to do, a truck drove very close to our car and waves of water flowed in from beneath the car floor wetting the skirt of my saree and my sandals and Kid#1’s very fine trousers and shoes.

4. Both of us stopped fighting and looked at each other speechless.  Then we started looking for plan no. 2.

5. Kid#1 decided that he would push the car while I would try to start it.

6. It was 8 p.m.

7.  We tried to start the car, we really really did …. but the car had decided that there would be no Roka I guess.  It refused.  By this time all the roads were littered with dead cars.  It became impossible to push start the car – there was no space. 

8. Kid#1’s fine suit looked like a rag, I was sitting inside the car with my saree hitched above my knees and sandals on the dashboard.  My make-up and hairdo …… what make up and hairdo?????

9. It was 9.15 p.m.

10. Kid #1 gave up and came and sat down in the car, sweating profusely.  I gave him a tissue and while he was wiping his face my foot-in-mouthitis kicked in and I said “Chala Murari Hero Ban Ne”.  He glared and said icily, “Not Funny!” and I tried (I swear I did) not to laugh.

11. It was 9.30 p.m.  The rain was down to a drizzle.  DIL’s father and brother came looking for their dulha and rescued us.

12. We ditched the car and went to their home in their car ….. and Kid#1 had his roka in his brother-in-law’s kurta pajama and I graced the ceremony in a dripping wet saree.

Ah well …. just another normal day in our insane life …………

My elder son's wedding Part 1

I have got inspired by Mad Momma’s hilarious post on her wedding video, and so here is the fruit of this inspiration. I got married in the dark ages, colour tv was years away, and so mercifully was spared of creative licence taken by video cameramen. The only weird stuff I have is a very theatrical shot of my mehendi covered hands with ex’s face smack in the middle.

Kid#1 was not so lucky {insert evil grin} Being born in the age where phone cameras and instant recording are the norm, he simply did not have a chance. Kid#1 is reserved and did not show much interest in the opposite sex. It became a matter for concern to me since Kid#2, 8 years his junior reached his teens and discovered girls in a big way. Then the unexpected happened. Kid#1 declared that he had fallen in love ….. an announcement which led to much hysterical merriment from Kid#2 and me. No I am describing it all wrong. Let me begin again ………………                  

Gentle sounds of Backstreet Boys instead of Savage Garden are wafting out of Kid#1’s room. I walk in surprised and concerned, closely followed by Kid#2

Me : Are you okay

Kid#1 : Yeah I guess so (accompanied by goofy smile)

Kid#2 : Dude your taste in music has become bad, It sucks!!!!

Me : Nah, I think it’s improved. Wassup?

Kid#1 : I dunno …. Something is happening to me …. I feel kinda different

Me : Tummy upset ?

(Don’t knock it, in my years of child rearing I have found that Digene solves many a problem)

Kid#1 : (Dreamy eyed and all smiley ) No ……

Kid#2 : (Looking horrified) What’s wrong with you – you look corny

And rushes to the p.c. to change the music to some rock

Kid#1 : No, don’t. Just let Backstreet Boys play

Both of us : WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU??????

Kid#1 : I think I am in love

Total stunned silence … both Kid #2 and I exchange surprised glances and burst into giggles. I try to stifle the giggles and ask

Me : When ? Who?? Are you aware that you need a female to fall in love with?

Kid#2 : Why?

Kid#1 : It is {insert DIL’s name}. I asked her to marry me.

Me : Huh!!? Excuse me? Arent you supposed to say you are in love, date for a while and then propose?

Kid#1 : (With idiotic grin on face) I just know its right – so I proposed

Me : (Mentally applying brakes on my hysteria) I am so happy for you, but ……

Kid#2 : Baffled totally : Why? And why are you listening to sappy music?

Me :Totally losing it and clutching my stomach at this point : Ha Ha Ha

Kid #1 : protesting : Ma!!!!!!

Both Kid#2 and I flee from the room

Welcome to my world

As a family, we have a full house. Moi, yours truly, the Lady of the House (also nicknamed Tantrum by her ungrateful spawn), the elder boy nicknamed Changez Khan by his younger sibling whom he bullies constantly , and who in turn has nicknamed the younger one Dustbin (since he is always hungry and can eat just about anything. There is The DIL (also nicknamed Jhansi Ki Rani) for the strength of her tantrums by her loving husband and mother in law. If this wasn’t full house, we have our pet brats/fur babies, two dogs, Jeannie, the German Shepherd aged 1 year and Piper, the dachshund, just 5 months old. Well, you get the picture? It is insanity 101. Added to this very interesting mix is our full time domestic help, a Nepali boy, who speaks Hindi with a generous dose of Punjabi, and insists that he does not know Punjabi. He assures us that he can only speak Hindi

The dogs are wonderful. I was not much of a dog person until my sons started bringing home strays. I was quite a cat person. My ex once said in a nasty mood … “that is because you are catty!” … Oh big deal, he hated animals. I have a theory, people who cant relate to animals are incapable of love …. but I digress. There is no animal as selfless and loving as a dog. I can remember a time when my boys were clingy and wanted to feed me their half eaten soggy biscuits and candy. Dogs are born like that and they never outgrow that stage. Jeannie was about four months old when Kid#1 got Piper home. They took to each other at first sight. I think Piper thought Jeannie was his mother or something. Jeannie was amazingly patient with him.  Now its changed somewhat.  Jeannie is quite possessive and doesn’t like the competition, and since she is huge in comparision, she intercepts your petting. When any of us bend down to pet the dogs, she stands on top of Piper so that she gets all the caresses, and if he whines, she growls at him. That is true vintage sibling rivalry. Reminds me of my days as bratty elder sister as I described here.

They are a handful, and thank heavens our live in Nepali-who-speaks-Punjabi loves them to bits. Otherwise it would have been difficult.

The most priceless thing Jeannie did was … no not her lovely gift to me of a half chewed body part of some indetermined animal … but her desperate attempts at not letting us go out of home on Diwali with an expression which said “You Loons, the world outside is going crazy. Just stay home and safe!!” while she kept pulling at our new grand diwali clothes.

Crazy Times in Lok Sabha

I am putting a disclaimer here : I am not a politically savvy person so I am giving below my views – as an apolitical spectator

Yesterday, like millions and millions all over the country, I was glued to the television in the evening watching the unfolding of the intense drama in the parliament. This is the country where Saas Bahu serials enjoy the highest TRP ratings, this is the country where people actually lit incense before the airing of the Ramayana on Sundays on television and watched the episode seated on the floor barefoot. We love drama and yesterday we got total paisa vasool kind of drama.

At 4 p.m. the entire nation witnessed the unfortunate charges of horse-trading and people from one party flashed wads of currency that would support an entire village for a year, and shouted their accusations against another party. Then a wheeler dealer from another party shouted his defense. I found it totally over-the-top but thoroughly entertaining. I don’t know how true their accusations were, or what the story is. It made good television. Then of course came the voting which ended in a nail-biting finale. Very interesting.

I asked a few of my colleagues about the nuclear deal which was thrown up by the news channels – people actually are frightfully vague about it. If you want to learn more about it read this. It does not seem to be harmful in the least – in fact it appears to be good for us.

My point in all this is that the entire brouhaha yesterday reminded me of the British sitcom “Yes Minister”. I actually thanked heaven for the Sir Humphrey Appleby’s of India who even though they use bland obstructionism, ingenious evasions and display a mastery of the process known to its practitioners as “Creative Inertia.”, but at least they are the backbone of the country and hold it steady while the dramatists hold sway in the Lok Sabha.

No one can hurt you more than your teenager

Nothing, truly nothing hurts a parent more than their spawn. All of my sons’ friends think that I am the coolest Mom ever …. and they wish that their parents had even a fraction of my “chilled out and cool attitude” (their words, not mine) and here I have kids who don’t even want to spend time with me and don’t think that I am fun. I don’t get it. Kid #1 would rather meet his friends somewhere far away from home. He and DIL will go out, and then come back late into the night. Kid#2 is actually embarrassed about me. I don’t behave like other Moms, and I use language that is similar to theirs, watch their kind of movies and listen to their kind of music. His friends like my company – which embarrasses him. Go figure that one out. It is weird. Reminded me of that Bon Jovi song which was so popular “Shot through the Heart”

So I did my research {thank you Googleji} and found out that this is normal. It is called fouling up the nest. Can you imagine, there is actually a term for this!!! Apparently kids are growing up and want to leave but since they are very close to the parents, they need to create increased levels of conflict that can provide a propellant, without which maybe many youngsters might find it difficult to leave. The entire article is very illuminating and can be read here.

 

I really have to show off my link making capabilities (:))

Menopause – God's divine comedy

There are times when I think God has a weird sense of humour. I just don’t get it. The timing sucks like hell… like I mentioned in an earlier post (Yayyy I managed to make a link!!!!)

Consider this, a woman reaches middle age and is dealing with boobs that go south, grey hair, the first few wrinkles, all the chocolate she ever ate settling down on her hips and thighs – yeah its pretty stressful. God looks at this mere mortal just learning to face it and adds a deadly twist …. the said woman’s children who until then considered their mother as Goddess and looked at her with undisguised and blind adoration become teenagers. It happens suddenly. One day, these kids are tripping over themselves to cling to you, and if you hug them or smile, they are ecstatic. They wake up the next day with the thought “Who is this old witch, and why do I have to listen to her on how to run my life. She never did manage hers very well”. And if God hates that poor old woman very much, he gives her a daughter who is very upfront and tactless about how she did not want to grow up like her mother. Nasty!!! Luckily God did not give me one of those. Still I was the worst mother ever, since I did not allow the boys to go to school on a two wheeler or drive anywhere unless they were 18 and got a licence. They were at their whiney best “Every other parent allows it” I know kiddos, I am MONSTER MOM and I love it. Then they give you the silent treatment – which is lovely. I gave it right back and we had a very peaceful and less stressful home.

After you have weathered the teenage years when they are lazy, self absorbed, conceited, messy, insufferable pigs, they grow up to be decent boys you are actually proud of. You start enjoying their company. Then God adds another twist – they get married just when menopause hits you. Picture this, you are going through hot flashes, memory loss, mood swings, wrinkles, night sweats and eating binges, and the apple of your eye, the fruit of your womb brings a young nubile woman into the house and proceeds to ignore you totally. She has a butt and a bustline that burns you up, and she probably goes to sleep without under eye creams and anti wrinkle aids, and does not need push up bras. The divine comedy makes me weep.

 

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