My Big 'Fat' Indian Wedding with all very 'Thin'

As the wedding approaches, Thanks to both the families revenue is generated for many cities. The ‘sareewala’ is happy, the jeweler is all smiles, the tailor has tremendous workload and critical deadlines to meet and the printing press has a bulk order of many cards to print. Amidst this, the last laugh is by the fitness and health centers all over the world (at least parts of the world where our family and friends reside). Welcome to my wedding preparations, where loosing those extra inches seems equally important as buying a new saree. Flat tummy holds more appreciation then a Versace suit and toned legs are admired more than the pointed stilettos. So while few are flexing their muscles in the gym, some are shaking a leg or two in their Zumba classes. Couple of them prefer yoga for the mind body and soul, some like to match up to the steps of Shilpa Shetty and her power yoga while many prefer the morning walk and the cool breeze. The groom and the bride are also not spared, specific circuits are given to both the aim to loose few inches here and to gain a few there. Oil and ghee and cheese are being avoided like plague, while fruits and green leafy vegetables are being embraced. K serial is the new munching snack and luke warm water is replacing cocktails and mocktails. The net result is astounding; the flabs have beautifully changed to six pack abs. The mother of two is now the ‘sexy’ mother of two. The 40+ women easily fit into their old wedding lehengas. The ‘XL’ shirt sizes are being miraculously replaced by the magic letter ‘S’. All the new mummies are flaunting their flat tummies. The friend with puppy fat is the new babe in town and glowing skin seems to simply run in the genes. I don’t know will the fitness regimes last after the first dawn post my wedding but one thing is for sure all shall surely relish the culinary delights of an Indian wedding without the guilt pangs.

Who Stole The Cookie from the Cookies Jar?

Chorus : Who stole the cookie from the cookies jar ?

Miss Z : I think it is Miss X Madam.

Miss X : I Madam.

Chorus : Yes Madam.

Miss X : No Madam.

Chorus : Then who do you think Madam ?

Miss X : I think it is Miss Y Madam.

Miss Y : I Madam.

Chorus : Yes Madam.

Miss Y : No Madam.

Chorus : Then who do you think Madam ?

Miss Y : I think it is Miss G Madam.

…………….

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This iteration I recited with a group of my girlfriends while waiting for the school bus with clapping of hands and snapping of fingers giving the required rhythm.

The idea was simple, a hypothetical cookie jar had a missing cookie and everyone was questioning who stole it. When someone was suspected, she instantaneously defended herself by suspecting someone else and the game endlessly continued with the mystery of the thief still lingering on. The mystery died its own death with the arrival of the bus. Ironic enough the game was subtly teaching a very wrong practice of our society – The Blame Game. Anytime something goes wrong or just looses track simply all stand up and start playing this game, where the idea is to save oneself and put the blame on another. The output is plenty of hue and cries, but alas no consensus result. The problem is forgotten with some damages, faulty and quick repairs and life moves on. CWG fiasco, Bhopal Gas Tragedy are some examples which came into limelight of this dirty game we play. Not only in such large canvass but this blame game comes into existence in mundane times too. Rarely do we see someone standing up and taking the onus of the problem and pledging to resolve it. Errors are a part and parcel of life, after all to ‘Err is Human’. Ideally problems should be repaired at an early stage and not left to accumulate and cause havoc. In the non – ideal world that we live in alas! This is not the norm. The problem comes it is neglected and kept hidden from others. Such petty neglected problems build up and their ripples start showing it is then when the favorite game of mankind is played - blaming others and proving one innocent. If we enjoy taking the credit of a triumph we should also be responsible enough to suffer the travail of a nuisance. Washing dirty linen during crisis may be satisfactory for one’s ego but doesn’t really lead to any satisfactory result. I hope in times to come little girls round up to play this game but with some alteration as in

Chorus : Who stole the cookie from the cookies jar ?

Miss Z : I think it is Miss X Madam.

Miss X : I Madam.

Chorus : Yes Madam.

Miss X : No Madam.

Chorus : Then who do you think Madam?

Miss X : Forget the thief lets get together and bake the missing cookie Madam.