There are some things in life that happen in spite of all the effort you take to avoid it. My meeting THE boy was one of them. Yeah…you guessed it right. This is about what would rightly be called “The Epilogue” of the now-famous groom-hunting saga.

I came back a happy girl from Paris after enjoying my last few days of singlehood, although I did not know it then. The groom-hunting efforts were on quietly in the background during my absence. That I was indifferent to it would be more appropriate than claiming to be ignorant of it. Just before my departure to Paris, mom had mentioned S, adding for good measure that he was drop-dead gorgeous, very soft-spoken, and had every quality that I would expect in a man. Of course, she did mention the minor fact that she hadn’t even seen him at that point, although I wasn’t supposed to worry about that. Having met the parents, my parents were convinced that he was the one. Now, how they came to that conclusion after seeing the parents is anybody’s guess. Anyway, I dismissed it without a second thought at that point, focused as I was in getting to Paris and having a good time. My mother, to her credit, conceded that I had a point and let me be.

It is on my return from Paris that I met S. I was dragged along kicking and screaming to meet him would be a more appropriate statement. The day I returned from Paris, I was spared the hard talk due to deserving the basic human right to food and sleep. By the time I woke up the next morning, the mater had decided that her right to discuss potential grooms was more important and broached the topic. She asked when I would meet him and I said, “Whenever!” In hindsight, that was probably the gravest mistake of my life. She left me alone the next day and led me on to believe that S was off her list of potential grooms. Just as I was secretly rejoicing the temporary reprieve I had received, she called one busy Wednesday afternoon. “You’re meeting S today. At the temple at 7 PM.” To say that I was reluctant would be an understatement. In the middle of a conversation with a colleague, I ranted and raved at the unfairness of it all, at being made to get away from work at 6 PM barely 2 days after I had returned from a business trip abroad, and at being forced to meet S at a temple. I also ranted about meetings in temples being so unbelievably 17^th century and claiming I would have much preferred Park Sheraton. At that point, the colleague, fed up of being captive audience told me to go and meet him and come back and say no. It all seemed so simple then. To meet S and say no.

How complicated things become just when you’re beginning to think it’s all so simple. On my first meeting with him in the said temple, I found him easy to talk to. Actually, I just found it easy to talk because I kept talking and he kept nodding. As dad observed later to my comment on his reserved nature, he probably didn’t have the time to slip a word in sideways because I was jabbering so constantly.  I did notice at the time that he was rather reluctant to smile. I came away feeling okay-ish about the whole deal, but not very sure about being able to live with someone who couldn’t smile.

In the subsequent phone conversation, he came across as so completely different from the man I had met the previous day. Conversation flowed. I came back to work and told the colleague that the guy was ok. At this point, she was ready to kill me because she had spent the better part for her day two days previously convincing me to go meet him and here I was, telling her he was actually quite nice. Two days later, I published the final episode of the groom-hunting saga. At that point, I had not even decided that it was going to be S. Maybe it was gut feeling. Two days later, I was ready to say the final yes.

Now…there are two ways of looking at this. I could get all mushy and say he is the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. But that, knowing him, would just embarrass the hell out of him. Or, I could be the nice girl and stick to feeling sorry for him. After all, he needs to be captive audience for my jabbering for the rest of his life. And I did say that nice people do not make interesting protagonists. Only weird characters do. To his credit, S is as normal a person as you can find! So, I will just register my utmost happiness at having found the person I want to annoy for the rest of my life!!

Ah…so…where were we? PG4 right? This one deserves to be put in a museum and showcased for posterity. It all started with some random maami calling mom about matrimonial alliance. After talking a few times on phone with the mater, they decided to come home. The mother of PG4 walked in two days later, with husband, daughter and son-in-law in tow. After talking about all and sundry, and refusing Mom’s offer of coffee, the potential MIL turned around to me and asked me to make coffee! Resisting the temptation to throw something at her face, I played the gracious host and offered her coffee. She did not exactly endear herself to me when she wasted all the coffee I had served. If there is one thing I absolutely detest, that’s wasting food. And here she was, doing precisely that! To make matters worse, she and her darling daughter scrutinized me from top to toe like they were purchasing a doll or something. Boy! Was I relieved that they left. Actually, all of us were because my parents are grandparents were getting equally uncomfortable with their attitude.

Just when I thought I had heard the end of this story, they called and managed to persuade my mother to let me meet PG4. Honestly, just then, I would have gladly opted for staying single all my life rather than getting hitched to someone like that! Every sentence he uttered contained some reference to mom or sister. He proclaimed, rather proudly I must add, that he gave away all his salary to daddy dearest because his father knew how to spend it! He even hinted I would have to do the same. I endured roughly 15 minutes of conversation and bid the happiest goodbye of my life! I certainly don’t need to specify that I said no. My parents looked almost worried I would say yes! It was that unbearable!

I was getting better at this. The time I spent with each potential groom was getting lesser and I was becoming an expert at this stuff! PG5 turned out to be rather nice. I liked the way he looked, liked his family and everything else. After several conversations with him, I really thought this was going to be the one. Until one day, he started talking of his expectations. He asked me, out of the blue, if I would learn to sing. I thought he was kidding. And then it turned out that not only did he harbour the commendable ambition of doing kacheri in Music Academy in December, he also wanted me to do the same. Not to mention that he seemed to be “settling” for a Kannada girl because his own Tambrahm coterie would not consider him a potential groom for his brother’s crime of having married a woman of his choice! I wasn’t planning to be a compromise candidate, nor did I fancy foregoing ice-cream and cold water to become a future Sudha Raghunathan! So…the saga of PG5 came to an end!

Now…the final PG! The most bizarre of them all! I am beginning to think I attract weirdos all the time! He came home one day, much against my wishes. I was preparing to go to Bombay the next day and simply didn’t have the time for such nonsense. After landing up around dinner-time and taking his own sweet time to talk to me (after munching on snacks and drinking tea of course), he finally got around to talking. The first sentence he uttered was such a big turn-off that I didn’t listen to the rest. After asking me if I would like to continue working after marriage he said, “You see. I am 33. I don’t have much time. I want children immediately.” Now…what the eff am I supposed to say? I was almost tempted to tell him to order them off E-Bay! Before you ask me, my dear readers, of course I said no. I have no intentions of being a baby-making machine for anyone ever!

And with that, we come to the end of the groom-hunting saga. If, after all this trouble, I do manage to meet someone really worth my effort, I will be most happy. And of course, I’ll keep you all posted! But remember, nice is normal. No fun in blogging about the good things in people! Only weird characters like PG6 make interesting protagonists…No?