11 things only my bharatmatrimony alliances will understand

I thought I would make the title interesting, as listicles are quite a trend these days. No post gets attention, unless it has been numbered (more random the number, more popular) Anyway, I am in the season (s01e10) of passively groom searching with my parents through bharatmatrimony and this is to subtly tell my parents why it is not working out. so here is a letter to all the prospective grooms who have connected to me through bharatmatrimony (bm- thats the suffix i save their contacts with). Dear Prospective Grooms, I don’t want to sound arrogant, but here is a quick guideline into ‘making it work’ at least into a conversation with me: Use your resources properly- You have been given my email id and my whatsapp contact number. Use them wisely. If you choose to connect to me over mail, realise that mail is not a live experience and also that it doesn’t have a word limit. So instead of just saying, hi we should catch up, it would catch my attention more if you could give a brief about yourself (and not your matrimony brief). If you choose to connect with me on whatsapp, since live-chat option is available, wait for me to respond before getting into story telling mode of who you are. In any circumstances, don’t call me before making me comfortable with a friendly chat first. Be long-term, not short term- I don’t like to discuss day-to-day events or my weekend plans, because trust me my life is boring and I wouldn’t have a better response than “nothing much. Work” or for weekends probably an outing with friends. These questions lead nowhere. I would prefer you knowing me life-to-life rather than day-to-day. Only when you know particular traits about me, would I be able to open about my day-to-day quirks as well. Don’t assume- specially at such an early stage. I wouldn’t appreciate you calling me a ‘hindikaari’ (hindi-wali) just because I have saved my dads contact as papaji on my phone. Ask questions- better than making a statement of your assumption, you could say it better by asking ‘so are you this and this’. This would also enable be to open up and talk about me better as per my understading of myself. Don’t be too regional with me- probably my weakness, but I am not too good at being a typical tamilian. So I get uncomfortable when you suddenly expect me to be one and carry conversations, that too over texts in tamil. I wont be able to do it. Yes, I can exchange a line or two once in a while in tamil but not more than that. I am genuinely sorry for my limitations. Having said so, I cant live without curd-rice. Show interest in my hobbies- if I share a picture of something I might have made recently, don’t ignore it entirely or leave it with a customary “nice” comment. You can even fake interest by asking how and when I made it. That is it. Or better, mention you arent too much into such stuff, so unable to comment. Honesty is appreciated. Don’t seem too rigid with your expectations- although it might suit to have a vegetarian partner, and yes I am a vegetarian but I wouldn’t want to that to be a criterion to marry me. Or the fact that I belong to the same community as yours. I don’t believe that it is best to marry in your same community as that’s the best match possible in terms of lifestyle. I will surely be a misfit then, even if I were typically tambrahm. Because I believe more in personality-connect irrespective of where you belong from- regional belonging it is not a case of iphone-android compatiblity for me. Don’t talk to my parents to know me- you have to marry me not my parents. it only seems like a pressure building exercise. Connect with me, they have already shared my details with you. If I like you, then go ahead and chat with my parents as much as you want. Don’t go over-board with big words/jargons/metaphors- we are trying to have a friendly discussion here to know each other, not impressing an interviewer during a gd session. Take it easy. Extend conversations- if I ask you a question, give a detailed reply if possible and if you ask a question I am responding to, instead of just replying “nice” and “good” you can mention your opinion on it, some anecdote similar to it. Otherwise again the conversation ends prematurely and gives an impression that you lack interest in talking further. If that is the case, I get confused when you message again with a hi sometime later. I don’t know how to respond to it. Take the hint- if we arent able to hit it off at all, lets not prolong the conversations and call it off already. Just act mature and tell your parents it didn’t work out. Don’t go back complaining to my parents that I don’t respond to your texts. It feels like I am back in primary school again. You harly had any of my interest, now you are scaring me from the entire institution of arranged marriage. All the best. Because it is a task knowing and pleasing me.

Noted

My childhood sweetheart you were, You gave me my first innocent nervous jitters. And when we sat next to each other in class, We passed each other cute secret letters. For that reason, my class notes were always half-taken, While yours were promptly complete, And when the teacher would erase the chalkboard, You would pass me your notebook under the seat. I would quickly try to copy your words, And you would smile and wait for me. But even you had to match the pace of the teacher, So I would return back the notebook, hurriedly. My notes always remained half-finished, And I always tried catch up with you, In anxiety, my notes were full of mistakes But you would wait for me, I knew. I don’t remember when you turned the page, And went far ahead from where I was, I became a lost forgotten chapter And this time I waited for you; on one side on a never-ending pause. My pages are now torn and ragged, And like always, half the story from it is lost, But it still has a dried rose petal from old times, And blurred words of love among teardrops spots. You nomore believe in the bedtime story that I was You might never trace your way back to the fairyland I wish I could scream to bring you back, But my soft tattered pages would crumble in your hands, If only I were a fresh page from your story, I would sink deep inside you like a papercut Ooze out the blood from within you, And absorb it my diary before you slam it shut. Perhaps my notes would always remain unfinished You may never come back, in all likelihood But didn’t you say that you would wait for me, I really thought you would.

Thought for Food

You say I am fat, but you are surely mistaken, These are food souvenirs from the times of fun and glee. All the cheese, chocolate, soda and bacon, Saved like memories in a diary, in my arms, thighs and belly. I know I cant hold on to the time, so I hold on to that time’s food, Engraved tattoos of reminiscence, now they define me, Little vague for some, and for some little understood, I have saved them all, all in loving memory. The protrude of my hips, is from the chineese noodles from my college canteen And my bulky arms save the French fries I had on my first date in McD The countless popcorn and pepsi I had with every movie that I have seen Are the reason for the increasing width of my legs above my knee, And even though the engagement ring gets tighter every day, My swollen fingers embrace the fancy dinners with my husband and family And my favourite fast food, pani poori, pav bhaji and chole Lie right beside my smile, even if my bloated cheeks make me look funny. So I guess, you now stand corrected, that I am in fact not overweight, Just overflowing with love that cant be contained just within my heart only Encompassing the spirit throughout, I am sentimental, romantic and passionate, Anything and everything else, other than being bulky fat or portly

Brittle Mirror heart

Mirror, Mirror of the heart, Rosy and desirable at the start Holds a fancy image of love, Reflection of a divine feeling from above. And when it breaks, it breaks into millions Vulnerable and weak like victimised civilians They scatter and hide in dark corners of deserted alleys Doubtful and scared to confide even to a faithful pally. And the fancy image held together in the start Is reflected separately in bits by each piece apart. What it once held, a perfect smile, curved like the crescent moon, Now lies curtailed on the floor, completely strewn. Some broken pieces, the civilians, are forever lost, Never there to rebuild the empire after the draught. The shattered ones left, build their own weapons and arms And cut deep into the feet on those who trespass their farms.

Winter Special

Bundled up and packed from head to toe, In layers of wool, to ward off the cold and snow, Her hair came curling down like satin ribbon, And her eyes gleamed like golden sparkles in the sun. I knew she was sent from someplace blissful, Made with sheer care by many elves, singing the Christmas Carol I knew she was a loadful of sweetness with the kick of Vodka She was my christmas gift, the best one from Secret Santa

Perfect Crime

A dramatically dark poem! 7 missed calls, none returned Family and friends all concerned No reply to the messages sent to her No updates on facebook nor on twitter No recent photos or a fancy check-in, Three days ago on whatsapp she was last seen She was also offline, for the first time, on gtalk And in March was the last post on her blog It seemed she had dissappeared without a warning None of her accounts were found when tried browsing It seemed as though she had committed social media suicide No suicide note, no suspects and no reasons identified. Little was known, it was a cold-blooded murder, a conspiracy She endured several repeated brutal blows on her bruised identity Constant torture, constant pain and uncountable miseries She succumbed later that day to many internal injuries.

Date A Girl Who Dances

Date a dancer, not just for the thrill involved in watching her dance. Date her for the grace, for the myriad of expressions, for the flexibilty, for the balance, for the confidence, for the liveliness and for so much more. Date her for the colourful variety she would bring in your life, one time she would be the belly dancer and the other time she would have a performance for female infoeticide. She would be flexible in adjusting to your likes, just the way she blends her body postures in rhythm to the music beats. The same way she could transform her expressions and dancing style according to the music. Date her, because she would know that it takes time and effort to make something beautiful, to make it perfect. She would always be open to ideas as she knows there is always more than one way of going about things, just the way there can be so many different steps that could be perfect for a particular beat. Date her, because she would know that it is not just the song that would make a performance a hit. She would put in her best to make it a success. You would know she is a dancer if she is on the dance floor right from the time the music starts till the time she is the only one on the floor, insisting the DJ to play just one more song. You could recognise her in the crowd, if even a crowded bus, she is in a blissful state, with earphones plugged. If you look closely, you would find her struggling from swaying in the music and forcing herself to keep a straight face, fighting the expressions that she pictures go perfect for the song. You might still catch her tapping her feet and slightly shaking in a rhythmic manner. You would know she is a dancer, because even while standing in a crowded bus, she would hold the seat in a way different from others, with poise and she would seem comfortable even with one one hand twisted behind holding the seat, while her legs are literally on top of one another because of lack of space. She would never feel conscious or uncomfortable if you fix your eyes on her, in fact she might not even register it. If at all she does, she would not shy away from making an eye contact because she is used to looking in the eyes of the audience and smiling graciously. When you meet her, she would talk with you animatedly, her eyes moving in all corners and her hand gestures speaking more than she would. But try not to strike a conversation on dance moves. Technicality is a buzz killer, one needs to enjoy and live the dance than focus on where the hands and legs go. Rather share your music with her or better, show her a silly dance move. She would love to act goofy and dance silly for fun. If you dance too, challenge her with your moves and see her match your steps. Take her for a long drive and play groovy music and see her eyes gleam instantly. If the music cant be played out loud, leave her to herself, her ipod would come out and she would lose herself in her music. Do not distrurb, she loves being in this world, she would be grateful to you for this. Date a girl who dances, because she gives importance to small things too. She knows the importance of timing for a rhythmic flow and would never go off-beat. She knows the importance of finishing her moves before starting a new one and would never keep you hanging. She would be well balanced and even if she loses her temper, she knows the right way to fix it and it just a good song away. She would fix things, while smiling without panicking just the way she would when she forgets a dance-step in between a performance but has to go on. Even if she messes up badly, she would let it go. If she likes you back, she probably finds you interesting, challenging and lively, something she could work on to bring out something beautiful. If you find the girl who dances, indulge in the beautiful harmony she brings and make sure to symphony never ends.