The ‘M’ Word Part 10 : Click

And you thought I was done with the M word series. But no sir (maidums), here’s another thought for process.

Last weekend I was invited for a get-together at a close newly-married friend’s house. A little brief-up here before I proceed; B got married last year in November. Because of un-mentionable reasons I was unable to attend his wedding, which took place in New Delhi. Was disappointing, even more so because I was so very looking forward to setting the dance floor on fire with my “Main Talli Ho Gayi” moves. But as they say, shit happens.

Once at B’s apartment, I was introduced to his lovely wife P. And then there were the in-laws. B’s visiting in-laws from Chandigarh. Uncleji with armyness written all over his appearance & auntyji, what can I say…the fried fish cutlets were finger-licking delicious.

Anyhoo, once all those invited had arrived and the mood was set, we began with the usual business. You know; pulling crappy sorts of jokes at the expense of the newlyweds. On the other hand, it was good to see B involve his in-laws in our conversations, because usually the oldies feel out-of-place and therefore prefer to move out of the picture.

So while we were taking healthy jabs at B’s college days, one sirji who was certainly a couple of tonics down mustered up the courage to ask B’s father-in-law – his impression of B, when he met him for the very first time at a club house in Faridabad. Now as expected, uncleji had only good things to say about his one-n-only son-in-law and since this is not a friendship tribute post I won’t bother you guys with detailed scripting of his words. But what had me completely bowled over, was the story uncleji related before ending his thoughts on B.

B was the second boy P was introduced to via the arranged marriage route. The first guy uncleji found as a suitable prospect for his beloved daughter was a Canada settled sardar. An hotelier by profession and a wrestler by looks (as described by P). P spoke to him a couple of times on the phone and wasn’t impressed. However uncleji thought otherwise and asked his daughter to re-think. Finally P decided to confront her dad backed up with all the reasons behind her ‘not-interested’ decision.

Uncleji heard her out and in return only asked one question – What kind of a boy do you have in mind?

P felt relieved but cornered. I mean it’s never easy answering a question as vague as this and topping it all have your future depend on it. Finally the only honest reply P could come up with was “I don’t know papaji. Jo click ho”. And that was that, no counter questioning…no arguing…uncleji understood his daughter’s sentiments, just right.

Unbelievable. I mean seriously bloody hell unbelievable. Why? Well because I too have been asked the very same question by different people (aka. mum, brother, sister, bhuas, masis…) on several occasions (Sakshi Must Marry by 05, 06, 07, 08 family meetups, shaadis and pro-marriage therapy sessions) and every single time I mentioned the word ‘click’…without the minimum pea-sized understanding, I have been only beaten up with counter questions. What clicking? Now what do you mean by clicking? Kindly elaborate? Clicking business is just bukwass, you only looking for excuse, no?

So clearly, for me explaining the term ‘clicking’ to my family is not something as easily understood as an exchange of aloo gobi recipe. And I know of many others in similar shoes, wherein families are simply not satisfied with the ‘clicking’ response.

However hearing Papaji (uncleji) and P’s story is heartwarming. Full of hope at least for some.