Singleton

There was yet another marriage I attended recently. A close relative. An aunt. Now that she's married, that's the end of all the single people in that generation (R.I.P) Being the eldest in my generation, that makes me the bakra... sigh... or rather, the bakri.

So that's why my father's chacha's daughter's husband's second cousin started asking me about my love life. For a second I was really shocked. I mean, here I'm sitting in a function where there are 'only' about 1000 'close' relatives (I was sure there were more - especially counting the insanely shouting running brats who seemed to run about playing without a care for life or limb. One even bloodied his nose somehow. In a marriage finction?! God! How can kids do that to their parents? How can kids do that to anyone...)

Well, anyway, I find myself sitting next to this hulk of a woman who is overflowing out of the rented white plastic chair, and she sweetly turns to me and the first thing she asks me is "So do you have your eye on someone?" with a leer which sickened me to my stomach and threatened to make the half-cooked shaadi chicken (you know that red thing which you find only in marriages) come out the way it had gone in.

I stared at her and debated on whether to answer her with "Listen lady, I never met you before in my life, I don't even know you and even if I did know who you are and how we are related, I wouldn't tell you if I had anybody hidden around in my love life simply for the reason that you have a sick expression on your face which suggests that you want the information just because you want to spread it around the whispering gossippy ladies." But, I controlled myself. I smiled. Sweetly. And muttered something to the tune of "No, no auntie."

Did I think the topic was closed? She came back with a "You can tell me you know" accompanied with what I believe was an attempt at a confidential smile. I smiled and remained silent. I underestimated her powers of eliciting answers though. She kept looking at me with this enthusiastically expectant expression until I could scream. "No, there is no one auntie," I said finally.

"Ahh ok."

Just as I was sending up a heartfelt thanks about the message being sent the way I wanted it to, I was met with "What do you think about X?" X being the measly, nerdy son of a family friend who, apart from being the last thing I would marry, also happened to be two years younger to me.

TWO HOURS of non-stop matchmaking later - to totally unsuitable candidates, I so wished I had a lovelife. Sigh.