While the world waits in anticipation to the results of yet another impeachment trial, an inauguration of a President and the mass media anticipatory comments perpetuating fear mongering – yet another equally sensational story comes to light.
While the world waits in anticipation for the results of yet another impeachment trial and an inauguration of a President amidst mass media trending comments perpetuating fear mongering, yet another equally sensational story comes to light.
Readers, a few months ago, I left you with a cliffhanger in my weekly column – the one named ‘What the Fatakdi’. So, to many of you tormented souls that reached out to me and insisted that I keep them abreast, let’s start with a quick flashback for those fans just joining us.
The story began with an engagement party for a boy and girl in love, the boy was all big and bad, the girl had trouble standing up straight (the spine lacking c4, c5 & c6 vertebrae). Amongst the varied guests, of prominence were the boy brother who along with his friends had imbibed some on the sly. Things got unruly when teenage boys reached up under some 28-year-old aunty’s skirts. Said aunties were the bad boy’s flavours of different months, so glasses started smashing, tables were turned over, hotel managers channelled bouncers consecrating many a teen ass to the Peddar Road concrete (a thing Peddar has been a witness to far too often). A father pretending incognito dashed away in a cab while the bad boy’s vocabulary consisting of pimps and the defilement of mothers, sisters targeted guests, particularly the mother of the reedless girl, all the while slapping her silly brother. Well, the story ended with ‘Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?’… oops that is a future column! Rewind … the story ended with the question: ‘Will the wedding go through?’
Without further ado and true to my word, I will no longer keep you in suspense – Ladies and Gentlemen, The Wedding went thru. Yes, you heard that right. At the turn of 2021,
pandemic or not, the banns were read. On the ‘auspicious’ (sic) day high-pitched chants of ‘Shubh Mangal Sawdhan’ (I’ve never quite understood if that last word is a warning to the groom or the bride) were heard from pot-bellied bhatjis as the ceremony went through. Witnessing the same were male guests sweltering in heavyweight armour-like sherwanis piteously looking for a quick escape only to be shriveled with a venomous look by their equals dressed in fifteen pound Banarasi hipster sarees, the rotunda of their midriff challenging the aforementioned bhatjis’ solar plexus. But, as usual, I digress. Having delivered this scene to your mind’s eye – can you guess what was missing? Aha, I see halfway thru reading this you guys flipped back to this website and got caught up on what might be the deal-breaker to a wedding. To the rest of you gawkers, if Citizen A (the bad boy groom) called Ccitizen B (woman whose groins bore the bride) epithets that are even restricted in bars like Caligula, would it then call for an immediate halt to the forthcoming nuptials? Not in this case, the wedding went through with an ultimatum from the bad boy to his lady love that her mother, brother or even a remotely distant cousin would not be allowed to sully the oath taking. The girl agreed. Less said the better.
Are you thinking what I am thinking? Tick, tick, tick, tock…. how many days, hours, minutes or seconds before the balloon bursts, the romance ceases and blind love gets lasik surgery? Folks, the bets are on again!
Distorted as this phenomenon is, does it not shed perspective on how decadent we as a society have become? While decorum has flown to brutish beasts on that side of the hemisphere, this coming week will tell the world if Honour and Integrity on this side of the hemisphere too have fled on the wings of respectability should anything untoward happen on Inauguration Day when the 46th US President is to be sworn in.
