This is what traditional weddings seem like to a not-so-sanskari girl

These desi weddings I tell you. Photo Courtesy: YouTube

I am a hardcore romantic at heart, who wholly and solely believes in the concept of a happily ever after. In fact, the very idea of a Prince Charming making his stellar entry into my life sounds dreamy and unreal, but very beautiful--thanks to all the 90s flicks that I've grown up watching.

But there's a twist in my fairytale. While I am totally sold on the idea of a perfect lover boy (say a Raj or a Prem), I am nothing like the silent Simran or the annoyingly coy Suman in real life--not even close.

And while I would love to get married one day after achieving everything I have wished for, I have some major issues with the current wedlocks taking place around me. Mostly because I hate to see my idea of a happily ever after coupled with a dash of hypocrisy, showing off, and well--unnecessary expenditure. And that literally makes me cringe.

It starts from the very first step itself: distribution of fancy invitation cards with wine bottles and exotic chocolates. Why wine bottles though? Haven't you told the entire world that your darling daughter doesn't even know how to spell alcohol? In fact, she's someone who would just throw the bottle away thinking its phenyl, right? Your lovely, homely, sweet, little girl!

Did I say invitation cards? Hell No! It's a 10-page thesis on various, very 'important' functions that are about to take place, in the name of celebration.

I don't know if hosting a zillion functions hurts their pocket, but it definitely hurts mine. Because, d-uh! An outfit, sorry a designer outfit for every occasion isn't the best thing for your modest pockets, you know.

You know what's even more frustrating? Gone are the days when you would step into the over-excited (mostly for food) gathering and get reactions like "kitni badi ho gai". Instead, family members who keep a tab on your growth turn into match-makers. They'll watch every move you make, every breath you take. God forbid if they deem you appropriate for their chaachi's daughter's cousin's son--be prepared for a follow-up enquiry about your entire life history.

What I see happening around me--irritates and amuses me at the same time. No I am not talking about aunties giggling and gossiping. I am talking about the totally maddening scenario at all these weddings that I attend. (Yes, familial pressure makes you do things)

Fine! I get that everyone is damn happy for the couple getting married. But what I don't get is how some uncles and aunties turn into descendents of Dhiru Bhai Amabani, squandering our precious currency unsparingly over dhol-waalas and DJ-waale baabus like there's no tomorrow. Do they have a cash withdrawal limit of twenty lacs a day? Modi ji are you listening?

In the meantime, the poor brother watches from the sidelines. Not because he's depressed about parting with his dear sister post her doli departure. But because he is the one who was made to stand in those python-size queues (make that a thousand pythons, please) to get all that money his papaji uncompromisingly exhausted on the dance floor.

When it's finally time to welcome the guy and his family, the bride's father presents 'the gift' to the groom as a 'token of love' to his all-new damaad ji. I must say, his love is immense because that 'token' is stupendous and it stands parked at the entrance decorated with ribbons and flowers for all to see.

But uncle ji, while you were balle-balleing your way on the dance floor, I saw your thermal with holes in it. So please stop showing off! And well if you really are all that generous in life, try donating all that moolah for a good cause. The blessings that you will receive in return will fetch you more happiness in life, seriously. Double standards!