And I Almost Got Married…

She is sitting across the table and I am still trying to figure out how she would look like if she gets pregnant. In that case the baby inside the womb would appear more prominent than her. You could call her skinny but I assume some fat is also required for your survival. And I also assume that being flat-chested doesn’t come under skinny. To be honest good breasts won’t only please my kid but… Leave. Why I am talking about all this is because I have got a situation here. We two are not alone but accompanied by not so preferred company of our parents. Yes, her parents have come to see me and decide whether or not I am a good fit for her.

Yes, you heard it right. If they like me, I am probably going to get married.

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Let me give you some background so that you can understand my situation better. I have recently completed my MBA. Which college? That is not important here. It’s a good college and they also show its ads on TV with some foreign students whom I have never seen in the campus. Our alumni network is very strong. The alumni meets are conducted twice a week as most of them are not working and have enough time to spare each other. I only went there once and I realized it was nothing but an opportunity to hit on the girls whom you could never talk during the college. And since there was enough competition there, I didn’t like the idea. The girls/boys ratio has increased dramatically as we have reached the marriageable age. But I miss my college when nobody thought about all this. Once again I am telling you the name is not important, it’s a good college.

Right from the day when I got my degree, my parents have tried to convince me to get married. As if seeing me as bridegroom was the only dream that they had. I have been a good guy right from the beginning. I said yes every time they asked for something. So, when it came to marriage, they assumed it would be a yes if they would ask me. And they didn’t. Only last week I came to know about the research and analysis that they were doing on matrimonial sites. Teaching them how to use internet wasn’t the greatest of the ideas and I do regret it. But that taught me few things as well. For example I never knew that there are a few matrimonial sites which not only help you choose a partner from the same caste and religion but also according to your dieting, sleeping, eating and so many other habits. I hope someday they will add sex positions too. Good luck next generation.

Renu is the discovery of the huge online work of my parents. They have chosen her after seeing the profile picture only. Rest of the things they justified with some nonsense arguments which I didn’t bother to listen. She looked like a nice girl though. Girls who don’t talk to boys, keep to themselves most of the times, enjoy reading and like Shahrukh Khan, not for his acting but dimples. Frankly speaking, such girls kill me. And if you ask me whether I would like to spend life with such a girl, I would not just say No but also punch your face.

Her bald father started the conversation. I have always heard that bald fathers have hot daughters but as always I must be dealing with the exceptions.

“So… both kids are slim. They would make a nice couple.” Her father quipped. He was trying to be funny. We all had to laugh as if it was the best joke we have ever heard. I looked at my chest though and realized I am also a chestless skinny moron.

“Tell me Nikhil, how was your MBA experience?” her mother asked. She sounded like an interviewer.

I was about to answer and then my mother started – “Oh he has always been brilliant in studies. When he said he would do MBA, we were not surprised for the ambitiousness he has.” I couldn’t believe her ability to tell lies. I only did an MBA because my mom and dad forced me to. They said and I quote them – You can never get a girl without good education for a weird looking guy you are.

“Even Renu has been a bright student. She always stood first in the class. Not literally, I mean she topped the class. She didn’t stand there.” Her father wasn’t going to stop it seemed. “And when she got selected for engineering college, we felt proud. Why didn’t you do engineering Nikhil beta?”

Beta? You are not my father. – I thought.

“I had interest in commerce, so I didn’t write the engineering entrance exams…” Of course I did write and got failed.

“By the way Renu is a mechanical engineer.” He added.

I had a long look at her and said, “Of course he is. I mean she is.” And of course no one got my point. I can be a real bastard, I am telling you.

“Renu thinks she doesn’t want an MBA. She earns good salary. By the way if you don’t mind how much do you earn beta?” This time it was her mother.

And my father jumped in to the conversation. “Nikhil earns well. His package is ten lakhs.” He said.

I was flabbergasted. Ten lakhs? What a great father, father of me and father of telling lies. I got his point when I realized that he had included my office laptop, cafeteria food, my cost at office parties, photo copy and fax facility, free phone calls and so many other things that even HR person never told me. But the good thing was that Renu’s parents looked happy. Or perhaps that was a bad thing.

I looked at Renu for a while, though the rational people would call that staring. She seemed to be very excited about the idea of this marriage. She was twenty three, four years younger than me and I could see that in her behavior. She was sitting beside my mother and was holding her hand, which I thought was queer. She was wearing salwar kameez and was trying to play with dupatta to appear cute. That killed me. But I am quite sure it would have appealed to my mother.

“If you two want to ask each other anything, you can. Else we would assume that it’s a yes from your side.” Her father said.

“What?” I looked at everyone’s face. They were not surprised at all. It was just me. And I knew one thing that I had to do something to get out of this, else I would get screwed.

And I did something that still makes me feel proud.

If it was a comedy movie or a cartoon I would have disappeared, if it was a TV show I would have cooked up a story to piss them off, if it was my friend Jeetu in my place he would have clearly said that he didn’t like that girl. But guess what, it was me. And I could never do any of that. One thing that I don’t have the guts and second I am stupid. But stupid people can run. And so did I.

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