Handling a wedding is a gargantuan task, especially if you are parents of a bride from the south of India.
The invites, hall booking and decoration, catering, priests, appeasement of some sulking Solomons and keeping the huge gathering in good cheer calls for the expertise of a ring master at a circus surrounded by lions.
The host hardly gets time to chat with the special guests who arrive from far and wide.
At the recent wedding of my daughter in Chennai, some wonderful friends and relatives sprang pleasant surprises by dropping in. Their presence made the occasion grand. However, there was hardly a minute to interact. We met years later and yet parted in minutes without as much of a little update.
The grumblers do complete the show. “The tap is not working,” “The cleaners are lazy,” “One tubelight is flickering.”
One rushed to me when I was in a deep conversation with a close friend to say, “The toilets are stinking.”
I suppressed my anger and used humour: “Do not worry. I have ordered special perfumes from America.”
Thankfully, the guest thought I was serious and disappeared in the crowd.
Read a joke about husbands:
Husband is a man who lost his liberty in the pursuit of happiness.