When Chennai and East of Indus-West Of India/Gujju/Hindi/Baroda Decided to say "I do"

Its a pretty convoluted title - a direct rip off of the super popular "When India and Vietnam said I do".

Here, I present the story of two of my very good friends who decided to get married. Its a bit weird to see two people who you think are in a strictly platonic relationship to suddenly plunge into matrimony. But the platonic part was the result of a "Dont ask Dont tell",aka US troops homosexuality policy,strictly followed by me and others. It wouldn't be a surprise to the closest of their friends for the signs were all over. Oh! for the power of hindsight. At the end of the day, one realises that this was indeed destined.

Back to the story. The guy is a Tamil Iyer (a claim strongly disputed by a now retired traffic constable from Mylapore,Chennai who swears on his integrity(gulp!) that the guy is not an Iyer). Hes a somewhat typical Mylaporean. Definitely a typical BITS-ian. Knows his shit, and gets shit done.When a Iyer boy sucessfully thwarts parental pressure for marriage so long, there is something amiss. It made sense last night.

The gal is mystery atleast to me. She, like the boy, has claims about her ethinicity. The whole world thinks she is Gujju,but she begs to differ. She is from East of Indus-West Of India/Gujju/Hindi/Baroda, also known as the Sindhi land. She is beautiful,extremely helpful and knows her shit.

After years of struggle, they made it at last. All romaticist rejoice. Nerds, geeks and wanna-bes, do whatever you do on a Friday night ;)

So, what to expect from the marriage? Chennai might become a little more hipper, and Baroda a little more saner. Chennai gets a dash of Guuju-Sindhi culture that will make Madisaru mamis dance and Baroda will be forced to stop partying and start introspecting (and also be forced to read The Hindu)! Its also ok to expect a progeny of super-smart ,super-hip, super-good-looking youngsters who are neither Tamil nor Gujju-Sindhi but who will thrive comfortably cloaked in the veneer of American cosmopolitism. And yeah, of course, family cherry pickings during spring!

What does the present hold? A promise of a life-long relationship built on years of trust, friendship and mutual-well being(I should have just said love here, duh!). Of all the couples I know, they might be the closest to ideal - they complement and supplement each other. The immediate world around them will not change, but it sure has made a lot of people real happy.

I raise my glass to toast them. Cheers.

Silver Fox

Its been busy lately...very busy and stressful. Chicago during summer is a statement in itself - few places match the beauty and energy of the city during summer.

The job has been stressful and the weekend chores and partying has taken a toll on me. Unlike many places, we have a masseuse (actually two) come in every tuesday to relieve the stress and prepare us for more stress.

Of all the tales of massuses, the tale of Silver Fox is legendary in my workplace. She is what can be described as a MILF with a smiling countenance. You intuitively know that she must be the best massueses alive.

We also have a code at work - if you call yourself a man, never cry out like a sissy during a massage; never ask the massuese to be gentle; never ever whine like a wuss. This was a sacred code, for my collegues are ruthlessly judgemental with a finely tune radar to spot possible breaches.

Silver Fox, though mellow, is very different on the massage chair. She starts of slowly, gently rubbing your shoulder. She has this intricate procedure of massaging the back of the neck and the back of your head which can be very relaxing.

One day, the facilities manager had a brilliant idea. Why not try out another massuese? In came the replacements. They sucked big time. One of the massuese had man-hands. You have to empathize with me here. The 10 minutes in the massage chair is the only love I get. Now, a brother doesn't need a massause with man hands, does he?

So it was decided that we switch back to Silver Fox and her team. And everyone knew Silver Fox would be as ticked off as a cornered rattler. So, I decided that I should be the last to get a massage. I figured that she would vent her anger on the traders and will be mellowed down when it was my turn.

Alas! Alas! I did go in last. She started her procedure. Instantaneously it dawned on me that her anger hadnt seethed. She wanted blood and my head. I could feel her fingers touching my upper spine and move slowly to the back of my head. The skull felt more like a fabric than bone.

But, I couldnt break the code. I grimmaced in pain. But I held on. The massage session had me thinking of my great forefathers! If Chatrapathi Shivaji could handle Aurangazeeb, I can definitely handle her! Its my genes.

She moved down my back, elbowed her way up. Punched her way down again till I heard the base of my spinal cord snap. It didnt feel or sound good. Then I heard her knuckles pop. It was as if her hands had a screaming orgasm beating the pulp out of me and the knuckles popping signified the same.

At that exact moment, the alarm went off. My ten minutes of agony was over. Hooray! The alarm is the greatest invention in the world.

"Alright" she said.

I tenderly got up from the chair.

"Did you like it?"

"Yep! It was great. Thank you!" I smiled at her.

"Drink lots of water" she said.

I wearily dragged my sorry ass back to my seat. Doug, who sits besides, shot an all knowing smile.

"Did you break the code?" he asked

"You bet I didnt" said I.

"Did she beat you up real good?"

"You bet she did"

"You the man!"

"Yep. Me da man" said I as I bit into the veggie burrito that was waiting for me.