Marriage Material, Am I? – Part One

The buzz word doing the rounds of my house these days is marriage. Shaadi! Yeah. Eeeee how exciting! And, why not talk about me getting married? I’m 30, for heaven’s sake!

So, my mum’s all fired up. Yeah! She’s been scanning the matrimonial section of a weekly religiously, spreading word among relatives (“Koi ladka hai kya nazaar mein?”), visiting those matrimonial places, and oh, praying for me, of course! That’s my mum! I love her. Dad’s dad; chilled to the core. Jab hoga tab hoga! My daddy coolest!

My parents are highly positive that I am good marriage material; they’re hopeful, to say the least! What I do not understand, though, is the apprehension shown by several other personalities (beyond my parents) over me being marriage material. Why??? You got it. Because I am 30!

Yes, a thirty year old! OLD! That’s what I am, so to say. Too old to get a good husband. Huh, what? Can somebody define “good” in that phrase to me? Does it mean:

  • A “young” dude. OK, now I am thoroughly confused!! What like a fresher? Just out of college? That’d be a good husband, eh?
  • A “caring, loving, stable” guy. So, maybe those who’d be classified as “not good” wouldn’t be all of these things?? Hmmm. Yeah, I can’t even think!
  • A prince!!! Wow, anyone who married before turning 30 has a prince for a husband??

What is it about being a day over a particular age that makes me ineligible for marriage? Why, at 30, are my chances of getting a “good husband” so slim that it makes not only my mum but a whole group of aunties worry?

Does age really matter when it comes to marriage? Maybe it does (for some in our society) but so does your happiness. What really matters is if you’re ready to take the plunge! And, now at 30, I think I’m ready. And yes, my age in no way makes me less of “marriage material.” Well erm, I certainly hope my prince charming thinks that way, too. 😉

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Being an Adult is Tough

I’d been wanting to lay my hands on Adulthood is a Myth! by Sarah Andersen for quite some time now. And who wouldn’t, considering the crisis we face – adulthood!

Illustrated beautifully, Sarah Andersen depicts the life of an “adult” female through common situations of adulthood. The expectations versus the reality of “adult” behavior in those very situations are what every “adult” would relate to without a doubt. Sarah Andersen manages to strike a chord with her readers because we “adults” are just like her. Take a look.

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Ooooo yeah!

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So many complaints . . .

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Exercising! Hell no!

We all go through what Sarah Andersen has depicted so wonderfully in her book. However, being “adult,” often makes us hide who we truly are. So, you don’t want to leave your bed till one in the afternoon but you can’t do so because, guess what, you’re an “adult.” Ding! You want to hog like a pig but you just sit there eating teeny weeny bites of your small dinner, all because you’re an adult! Dang! And, my favorite: “no complaining” because you’re a freaking adult; get to work! Dong!

Well, being an adult is a tough job, indeed, and Sarah Andersen, through her book has managed to capture this tough job in the most hilarious way! And, that’s the book (and I am its proud owner). And yeah, the title and her sweater are made of felt! Yay!!! Yay!!! Yay!!!

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Wait! Was that “adult” behavior???

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Love At First Sight

Stumped! Head over heels! I was falling, falling deep in love with him. And, apparently the first time I laid my eyes on him.

Love at first sight, isn’t that what they call it? Well, I thought it was. I was 17, maybe 18, I’m not too sure, when I first saw him at the 9.30 AM Sunday mass at a prominent church in the Queen of Suburbs, Bandra. Oh what a wonderful sight he was; carved with perfection and being the Godly being that I was in those days, I believed him to be that God-sent angel that my sorry life was so lacking.

Perfect is the only word that comes to my mind when I think of him. That well-trimmed French beard, those black eyes, and the best asset – his hands, those wonderful fingers that played the piano. Yes! Yes yes yes . . . He could play that piano OK. My heart fluttered in my chest every time music emerged from those keys. And (and I found this out only later when I saw him play at the Good Friday mass), the guitar. Now that was way more than I had or could’ve asked for in a guy. I was so in love. Well, at least that’s what I thought.

So, this perfect being was on my mind like all the time and I made it a point to go for that 9.30 AM mass every Sunday just to ogle at him. My eyes only turned his way. As for the sermon, umm, absolutely no idea! But there was a God right there in front of me, who I stared at, I didn’t need a sermon, come on. At least, I went for mass. Come sun, rain, or cold (this is Mumbai weather I’m speaking about), I was there. Just so I could look at him.

And this went on and on and on. And, it reached such a stage that I even called my friend (who came all the way from Vikhroli on a Sunday, of all days) to look at him. Now now, before you judge me, I was in love ok. I couldn’t help it. I had to “show” him to someone. And it went on and on and on. The ogling, I mean. And, if you think after this on and on and on, I finally confessed my undying love to him, NO! Sorry but no. Nada! Umm, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

It was like my eyes were better players than my mouth. Well, anyway, I didn’t give up. Ogling, ha! Because how could I profess my love to that perfect creature? That God who played the piano. Melodius! But the real reason, now that I think about it, is that I believed that I was too low for him. I didn’t belong where he did. I wasn’t right for him. He, obviously, was faultless. That I’d never know now, would I? About him being faultless, I mean.

The point I’m trying to make here is that we, ladies, often do this to ourselves. And I’m not even speaking about falling in love. I’m talking about how we put ourselves down; how we always think that someone is always better than us (boy or girl); how we don’t love ourselves enough. But that’s what is so important, I realize. Falling in love with yourself because obviously you’re going to live with yourself forever. Treat yourself, take care of yourself, indulge yourself, respect yourself. You deserve it. This goes for the male folks, too (no, I’m not a “feminist” feminist).

As for the God, well, I found out he was already seeing someone (of course, she was better than me, a goddess); how I was crushed! Why GOD why? I trusted you so much. Well anyway, Mr. Perfectionist was never meant to be, umm, mine. But anyway, at least I can boast of this cute crush (oh yeah, it wasn’t love, I guess) I once had. Come on, he was cute, really cute and he played the piano, remember? And, as for love at first sight, no, that’s not for me, either! Wait, it may be . . . No! No love at first sight for me!

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Goa Escapades

All I wanted to do was relax. I wanted to go somewhere, away from this hustling and bustling city if only for a short while. And the only place that I could think of was Goa. It’s not like I haven’t been there but this time it just felt like I had to make this trip.

Located on the west coast of India, Goa is a dream destination for tourists from all over the world. But for me, Goa would always be my second home. What with me spending almost two months every year during summer vacations there. But this trip wouldn’t be like those, of this I had made up my mind.

So I packed my bags and boarded my flight to make this short trip. In the next 50 minutes, I was in Goa. The airport here, mind you, was used for defense purposes and so you actually cannot click photographs there. But not to worry, Goa is picturesque as we already know.

Since, I was at Dabolim (the place where the airport is located), I decided to stay at a service apartment in the vicinity of the airport. A nice two bedroom apartment (though I was given access to only one bedroom) was where I stayed.

Bellanzo Premium Sevice Apartments, Dabolim, Goa

Bellanzo Premium Sevice Apartments, Dabolim, Goa (this is where I stayed)

To start with I decided to explore Dabolim and I couldn’t believe how green it was. See for yourself.

Green Dabolim

Green Dabolim (with River Zuari in the background)

Now Dabolim isn’t a connecting point or anything like that. So, if you have to go further south of Goa, it is essential you go to Margoa from where you will get innumerable buses that will take you to the southernmost tip of Goa and even beyond to the neighbouring state of Karnataka. Similarly, if you want to go to North Goa, you need to go to Vasco-da-gama and from there to your destination. Just a note, I used the public transport, the buses specifically, for my trips. It was fun, I must say. Ok, so the next day, I was on my way to Palolem, located in the southern region of Cancona.

Day 2 began with me taking a bus to Margoa and by the time I reached there, I was starving. Fortunately, there are quite a few places that you’d find here serving food ranging from the typical Goan rice and fish curry to Chinese to KFC. I decided to eat some home-cooked food. Take a look.

Rice and fish

Rice and fish

So, with my tummy happy, I then boarded the white-and-blue Kadamba bus to go to Palolem. And the journey was worth it. Yes, the trip was long but I didn’t mind because Goa, I thought, looking outside my bus window, is just amazing.

What do you think?

What do you think?

I finally reached Palolem. But where was the beach? The famous Palolem beach. Walk I did and after being directed by some nice people (oh yeah, I know the language; it helped), there I was at the beach.

Entry to Palolem Beach

Entry to Palolem Beach

Yet unspoilt, this beach is pretty unique. It has a definite shape like a crescent moon. And yes, don’t forget those coconut palms jutting out from among the rocks.

Can you make out the crescent shape? Don't miss the coconut palms.

Can you make out the crescent shape? Don’t miss the coconut palms.

All in all, it was worth the long journey. Palolem beach is pristine and heavenly. That’s the least I can say. A must visit.

I guess I was a tad tired (but definitely happy) and I decided to head back to my apartment. I still had three days to go in this beautiful state of Goa.

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