Bring home a bahu. Babu! II

Ok. There is Gabby. But I think she will be too pregnant for the marriage and these stupid international lines wont let her fly.

Moms looked at each other wondering.

Who else do I know? Aah. Nonick.

No, what?

No nick. That’s all I know about her. She lives in my comment box. Whether its haloscan or blogger.

Halo what?

I ignored the question and continued.

She is a process oriented chick. She wants processes in place for everything you do and she wants it documented. Probably she will demand recipes for all the cooking you do and processes defined in steps for all the recipes.

I didn’t get you.

Ok if she ever catches you stealing money from Dad’s pocket she would demand it documented on a paper.

My mom turned pale.

Then there is Ph. Aaauuuuuummmmm. But she is too complicated. Half the time you wouldn’t understand her.

Like?

Aaaargh. Cant you handle anything without an example? I am getting tired of this. Ok, like, if she catches you stealing she would calmly leave the room and write something in her diary.

What will she write?

Something like

Naked hands frisk loaded trousers.
Adroit fingers find their way to leather cleavages.
Wallets empty themselves to pregnant jackets.

What the f**& was that? The younger mom looked at me in bewilderment.

Didn’t I tell you? Ok, leave it, leave it. Ok I admit. I am moving with the wrong crowd. My only bet was Patrix and he fell in love with Asterix. Chee chee, he fell in love with Ash.

Moms started crying again. You need to settle down son. Otherwise you are gonna lose it. They chorused.

Babu! Do you know what you want? Atleast?

I thought for a long time. Long enough for the elder one to start her prayer again.

Mangalam. Managalam.

I think I like Bengalis.

Bengalis?

Yeah, there is something about them. I don’t know. They are so vibrant. There is a certain radiance of sexuality and you can feel they are content, calm and kind, I don’t know. I like the way they wear their sarees. I like the way they mix traditional tops with jeans. I like the bags they carry. I like their sweets. I like their food. They are ideologically challenged. But I don’t think girls are. They have this strange gift of looking modern and yet make you feel home.

So you like Bengalis?

Yeah.

Mangalam. Mangalam.

I think the first I look at is a girl’s smile. I love the ones that have a pleasant effect. Not exactly cute but pleasant. You know the kind of smile Gello has.

Aham. Om. Mangalam. Mangalam.

This is strange but true. I thought I love fair skin and cant stand dark skin. * Concluded during the early teens after watching a western blue film and a desi blue* But over the years I ended up falling in love with , mmm, how do I explain? Take any shade from brown and what we generally call fair skin, not the Scandinavian paleness, and add cheesy translucent vibrant energy to it. Make it sensitive and soft. That’s my girl.

Moms looked at each other and checked their hands and stomachs.

Elder raised her pitch. Mangalam. Aha, mangalam, oho mangalam.

Another thing. I think I have an inclination towards chubby ones rather than tall and slim ones. Between medium and slim I would go for medium. Not the American kind of Big but the Indian kind of healthy medium.

This brought a huge cheer on the oversized elder one. Her eyes glowed and she placed her palms on my cheeks and said. Thadaasthu.

But my mom looked little concerned.

Have you thought anything about the girl?

To be continued..