This one's for all those keenly awaiting it. You see, the first one being N's cousin's wedding, it had an element of unsaid decorum that I needed to follow, after all, shoshurbari boley kotha. So honestly, the fun part wasn't really there, what with a hundred pair of eyes always observing our moves.
Wedding no.2 was N's best friend, Mota's. And this meant, no vigilant eyes, no decency, no decorum demanded. And more so, since it was Mota's, the self proclaimed leader of the famous Bawal Group.
We packed our little strolley and drove out of our J'pur home not to return to it until late next night! The morning was a low-key ghoroya affair with a simple lunch of dal, jhuro aloo bhaja r pabda machher jhol. According to Motah, we had to keep it light, to enjoy the evening better!
Come evening and we, as in Rajesh's friends and their wives, trooped into the biye bari in all our finery, all our eyes roving full speed.
Not much luck...all the dadu/didimas, kaku/kakimas sitting and sipping coffee.
Climb up to first floor where the sampradan et al are going on. Mota spots us and manages a wry smile from amidst all the blinding video lights and dripping sweat (trying to convey just how bored he already was, since they registered their marriage way back in July). Still not much luck for the wives really. So we try to follow the eyes of our "better halves". Spotted some fat wannabes who were shamelessly eyeing our rather "decent" looking husbands. Tried pulling N's leg with one of them but he wasn't amused at all. Dropped the case immediately.
Mala bodol and shubhodrishti was completed amidst a lot of catcalls and whistling. Just when we were about retire, with our tails uncomfortably between our legs, in walked the beauty, hubby in tow. All our "decent" husbands promptly turned indecent, their roving eyes suddenly losing their inertia of motion. The rest of the evening went by following in the lady's footsteps or resting our bums on chairs within clear viewing distance. Hai re , the sacrifices we women have to make for our men!
Later that night, we were curtly told bangalder bashor hoy na and shown the door. Ice-cold water flowed over Neil's printout of the most hilarious jokes and all our enthu to sing and dance our way through the night.
The lady resurfaced , with hubby in tow, on Mota's boubhat, too, and our men didn't spare her this time either. But, this time, she too had turned smart and gave these men back a full-blooded stare, which was promptly interpreted as "Arre, O-o to besh jhari machhe".
We just had to be content with a roomful of Xaverians, none worth a second look. To top that, at the dinner table, we had a huge debate with our men on what they perceive as "handsome". Their perception, according to us, the wives, were rather sad and disappointing, considering the examples they put forth. These men, I tell you, should strictly stick to appreciating "beauty" in the opposite sex and keep honing their jharibaji skills!
PS: Honestly, didn't find anything hot in that babe, even though I can vouch that we women appreciate beauty in our species, when we see it.