(Copied from my FB Note)
It has been 2 years, 1 month and and 4 days since I first spoke with Hari. I should say time has flown by. A few greys more on our heads, a few kilograms more and an un-measurable amount of happiness...
When mom was groom-hunting, I didn't have a list of criteria- ranging from height, weight, complexion to IQ, education and job credentials, like most gal pals of mine do. I was going through a huge personal turmoil; I came home from work, everyday, dreading the prospect of having THE talk. Long faces, tears, threats, advice... a forgettable phase. All the frustration led to an indifference in me. I refused to be part of the 'procedure' and said 'do whatever you want to'. I put on the earphones and stared at the computer screen whenever mom wanted to talk about this-boy-that-boy.
It was one late night when I received a message from a guy named Harishankar; he wanted to talk to me and he had obtained my number thanks to the groom search. I had no clue that mum had given him my number. All I had back then was rage- mum had given my number to a stranger I had no intention to even talk to, let alone marry!
I have always, in the past done one thing to vent my frustration- call up my favorite aunt and shout it all out. And that's what I did that night. My aunt advised I be polite and I acknowledged the message. I called him up ( i refused to 'rise-to-the-bait' when he tried being chivalrous saying he ll return the long-distance-call)l; and said I have a closet full of skeletons, past relationships, that I am indifferent; that I am more-atheist-than-theist and most importantly,that I am not the kind of girl a typical MIL would approve of.
Harishankar, CA, MBA (IIM-C), Equity Research Associate, Credit Suisse, High IQ Society- the profile intimidated me and very frankly I didn't take it seriously for I was sure he'd have a queue of rich CEO dads with b'ful daughters, wanting him as SIL- a future CEO/CFO in their family tree. Here I was, average looking, average IQ, dirt poor,bad BMI, with an IT job I was exceptionally bad at, extreme laziness and lack of cerebral matter reflecting badly on my CAT scores.
My first conversation with Harishankar Ramamoorthy was confusing. I was in a confessional mode, listing out cons from my side when he spoke Madras Bhaashai, laughed at pj's, amused himself and a perplexed me with Vadivel jokes. He was least snobbish and had no qualm in admitting that he enjoys parotta-saalna at Brilliant Tutorial kaiyendhi Bhavan. He didn't wear brands, nor did he drive anything fancy. He could admit that he preferred watching American sitcoms with subtitles...He had had his share of bad luck with past relationships and patiently listed why they had failed to work out. End of conversation 1, I felt sleepless... I called up my aunt, woke her up again at ungodly hours and recounted every piece of the conversation. I rifled for reasons I could state- to reject this guy. I was still confused and did not want to marry someone intimidating.To my surprise, we talked again after 36 hours of total restlessness. I was in a boring meeting about Telecom biz domain; nothing got into my head as always. I cut the call, and was surprised to note that he was making a second call.
A series of calls between Bombay and Chennai ensued, our respective bosses weren't happy(not that I was productive even before the marathon calls started). He was putting in his papers and wanted to chill out for a couple of months. After aeons, we met,he apologised sheepishly for appearing in bathroom slippers, clothes from Thretha Yuga and a borrowed bike- he was just back from a 7 day Sikkim trek and hadn't showered all along!After several more yugas, I laughed out loud and said 'yes, I want to marry you' over a crossword puzzle! The tables were turned, my mum went berserk when she came to know he was quitting CS and I was determined to marry Hari. And thus began our life together.
Today, after 2 years, I realise that I love the guy. More than anything else.
He still holds my hand while crossing the road... We are not bored of listening to each others' work woes. We still fight like street dogs, storm out of the house and then make up with a sheepish grin. He has resigned to the fact that he's married someone who cannot keep account of every paise spent, that she cannot multiply 3*3 digits mentally, that she hates onions(his uyir-naadi). I have understood that it's no use shouting at him- demanding that he shave, shower, use soap & shampoo, cut nails, have a hair cut and wear washed clothes. We discuss our past relationships.
We occupy the 100th percentile, on the yardstick of happily married couples.
Most people who see us today, refuse to believe we are married, and that we got married the 'arranged marriage' way. A store assistant in Pattaya asked Hari, 'Oooooh, so you are holidaying in Pattaya with your girlfriend, eh?'
Why did I start writing this? Because today marks 2 years, 1 month and four days knowing Hari? Because someone asked what made a self confessed cynic like me marry and lead a happy life?
Etthanai kodi inbam vaitthaai...
It has been 2 years, 1 month and and 4 days since I first spoke with Hari. I should say time has flown by. A few greys more on our heads, a few kilograms more and an un-measurable amount of happiness...
When mom was groom-hunting, I didn't have a list of criteria- ranging from height, weight, complexion to IQ, education and job credentials, like most gal pals of mine do. I was going through a huge personal turmoil; I came home from work, everyday, dreading the prospect of having THE talk. Long faces, tears, threats, advice... a forgettable phase. All the frustration led to an indifference in me. I refused to be part of the 'procedure' and said 'do whatever you want to'. I put on the earphones and stared at the computer screen whenever mom wanted to talk about this-boy-that-boy.
It was one late night when I received a message from a guy named Harishankar; he wanted to talk to me and he had obtained my number thanks to the groom search. I had no clue that mum had given him my number. All I had back then was rage- mum had given my number to a stranger I had no intention to even talk to, let alone marry!
I have always, in the past done one thing to vent my frustration- call up my favorite aunt and shout it all out. And that's what I did that night. My aunt advised I be polite and I acknowledged the message. I called him up ( i refused to 'rise-to-the-bait' when he tried being chivalrous saying he ll return the long-distance-call)l; and said I have a closet full of skeletons, past relationships, that I am indifferent; that I am more-atheist-than-theist and most importantly,that I am not the kind of girl a typical MIL would approve of.
Harishankar, CA, MBA (IIM-C), Equity Research Associate, Credit Suisse, High IQ Society- the profile intimidated me and very frankly I didn't take it seriously for I was sure he'd have a queue of rich CEO dads with b'ful daughters, wanting him as SIL- a future CEO/CFO in their family tree. Here I was, average looking, average IQ, dirt poor,bad BMI, with an IT job I was exceptionally bad at, extreme laziness and lack of cerebral matter reflecting badly on my CAT scores.
My first conversation with Harishankar Ramamoorthy was confusing. I was in a confessional mode, listing out cons from my side when he spoke Madras Bhaashai, laughed at pj's, amused himself and a perplexed me with Vadivel jokes. He was least snobbish and had no qualm in admitting that he enjoys parotta-saalna at Brilliant Tutorial kaiyendhi Bhavan. He didn't wear brands, nor did he drive anything fancy. He could admit that he preferred watching American sitcoms with subtitles...He had had his share of bad luck with past relationships and patiently listed why they had failed to work out. End of conversation 1, I felt sleepless... I called up my aunt, woke her up again at ungodly hours and recounted every piece of the conversation. I rifled for reasons I could state- to reject this guy. I was still confused and did not want to marry someone intimidating.To my surprise, we talked again after 36 hours of total restlessness. I was in a boring meeting about Telecom biz domain; nothing got into my head as always. I cut the call, and was surprised to note that he was making a second call.
A series of calls between Bombay and Chennai ensued, our respective bosses weren't happy(not that I was productive even before the marathon calls started). He was putting in his papers and wanted to chill out for a couple of months. After aeons, we met,he apologised sheepishly for appearing in bathroom slippers, clothes from Thretha Yuga and a borrowed bike- he was just back from a 7 day Sikkim trek and hadn't showered all along!After several more yugas, I laughed out loud and said 'yes, I want to marry you' over a crossword puzzle! The tables were turned, my mum went berserk when she came to know he was quitting CS and I was determined to marry Hari. And thus began our life together.
Today, after 2 years, I realise that I love the guy. More than anything else.
He still holds my hand while crossing the road... We are not bored of listening to each others' work woes. We still fight like street dogs, storm out of the house and then make up with a sheepish grin. He has resigned to the fact that he's married someone who cannot keep account of every paise spent, that she cannot multiply 3*3 digits mentally, that she hates onions(his uyir-naadi). I have understood that it's no use shouting at him- demanding that he shave, shower, use soap & shampoo, cut nails, have a hair cut and wear washed clothes. We discuss our past relationships.
We occupy the 100th percentile, on the yardstick of happily married couples.
Most people who see us today, refuse to believe we are married, and that we got married the 'arranged marriage' way. A store assistant in Pattaya asked Hari, 'Oooooh, so you are holidaying in Pattaya with your girlfriend, eh?'
Why did I start writing this? Because today marks 2 years, 1 month and four days knowing Hari? Because someone asked what made a self confessed cynic like me marry and lead a happy life?
Etthanai kodi inbam vaitthaai...
