An Arranged Marriage Ceremony

Ceremony

ceremony

As an Indian who has lived abroad most of my life, I find that the most riveting tales of my existence are around my arranged marriage. My friends want to know how it is to live with a stranger, my colleagues want to make sure I am happy. Even my kids are curious if we knew each other’s names during our wedding ceremony.

Well, to be fair, we did know each other’s names, height, weight, complexion.

Did we know at that time that one of us was a sociopath? Probably not. Just kidding!

The ceremony could be several hours long. In some case, it spans over days. We get to see each other a lot. I couldn’t help but whisper to him how dreary the process was. The tons of guests ate tons of food while they waved at us sitting at the podium, hungry for hours.

Each one of them would introduce themselves while we smiled till we had a locked jaw. Of course, I remember every sister of every aunt of every brother in law of every niece.

The priest read mantras from memory that I am sure he wouldn’t be able to interpret either. My sister would remind me to smile while my aunt would remind me to not smile too much and appear demure.

God forbid, if I dozed off, the DJ would suddenly switch to loud party music when everybody converted the wedding hall into a discotheque.

My bridegroom meanwhile figured out how many cuss words I knew as I mumbled under my breath. In spite of the tiresome rituals, there were parts of the ceremony that did mean a lot. At the end it did mean that this stranger would be taking me away from my own family to a different continent. That I placed my entire trust in him based on the promise of the ceremony. I probably made him so nervous he said “Do I?” instead of “I Do”. However, for 15 years now we kept the promises made at that irksome ceremony.

Checkout the book By Vulisetti’s – Motherish Childish

Motherish Childish

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Motherish Childish

Please download my son’s and my first book in the Motherish Childish series.

Why is a poor 10 year old authoring books instead of playing video games? Here is how that came to be….
When Avi was 9, he discovered he had a very good sense of humor. He made all his friends laugh. However, his teachers did not find any of it funny at all. Everyday his mom would pick him and his brother up from school and they laughed as they recounted their day. One day Avi said ‘our life is so dramatic, you should write a book on it – the life of a mother and son, and their rollercoaster of problems.’ This was supposed to be a joke. Unfortunately, his mother had a very bad sense of humor. She made Avi write the ‘Tragedy of our lives’. If the book makes you laugh, please do not let her know, she really thinks this is an Oscar level intense story with grim characters and an intriguing message.
Motherish: The stressed out mother writes how her day was as disastrous as could be. All you moms out there will be shedding tears and laughing at the same time at her unintentionally funny, whiny saga.
Childish: The goofy son writes how the very same day was a completely, comically chaotic adventure that leads to even more chaos.
Not to forget the illustrations, that make it an absolutely beloved, goober family story.

LOL

Pluck

Pluck out the best and share what your t-shirt says…..

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We Say

Sail

Me:

I stand by the shores with fettered feet

As I watch you sail away

With not a care, not a promise, nor a look of longing

I wonder if you ever wished to stay.

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You:

‘Tis my nature to drift my love, I have no feet

I sail with the winds, gentle at times, sometimes they roar

I hear you sometimes calling in the night, when the seas foam and froth

Wishing I could see you but once, waiting at the shore.

 

 

 

Are We There Yet?

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via Passenger

Here’s another story on a road trip written by my 10-year old and me….

Motherish:

“Get outta here…” “I hate you…” “Are we there yet?”… “I’m hungry….” I’m sleepy”… “noooooo, I’m nooooooooottttttt whiiiiiiining”…

“SHUT UP”

Sound familiar? Of course it does, to all of you who had kids as passengers on a road trip or a long flight. I love to travel, or rather I used to….sitting idly in a plane, on a 36 hour flight across the globe, being served food, reading with your feet tucked in, on your seat, with super-tight wiggle room. Well, all that’s a dream now. Picture a frazzled mom with 2 boys in tow, everybody looking at you like you were the walking dead. Or constantly looking for the road signs for the next gas station because Avi does not have to pee when Neil does, and Avi has to pee when the next rest area is not for 42 miles. Avi likes Chick-fil-A while Neil only likes pizza. Dad likes neither of course. And mom lives only on coffee.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, Neil, we are going to be driving for 3 more hours. Why don’t you take a nap?”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOK”

“MOOOOOOOOOmmmmm, Avi’s smelly feet are on my faaaaace.”

“Mom, he just farted, eeeewwww.”

Well, we didn’t have to to be told that, because we were already rolling our windows down.”

OMG, what do I feed these kids.

Dad threatens to take their electronics away.

A very peaceful 5 minutes. I try to turn the radio on.

…….“Are we there yet?”

 

Childish:

We look at each other very quietly, It’s the biggest Staredown 2017, it’s in a world records book. One of us is going to fart and whoever did first was losing their “TV Privileges”.

We were all arguing over food options, dad wanted a healthy place, mom just wanted caffeine. I didn’t care and Neil wanted pizza. At one point we went to subway and I had a worse experience than dad’s first time at subway. He wrote a whole story on that. I thought olives were chocolate. Imagine how many I stuffed into my mouth. My mom gave me a stare like medusa and I froze in place, unable to barf the olives out. Then I tried to take a nap, Neil’s feet were always in my face, and every 5 minutes he’d fart and practically make our car a moving barrel with toxic chemicals. Mom wanted coffee which she gets every hour, and I actually tried it and figured out how it keeps her alive. Neil says “Are we there yet” every 5 minutes. When he is not bugging us, he wants chicken and I told him you can’t eat your own kind. That resulted in my face looking like a ball rolled in mud.

So then I gave up and just took a nap……..roadtrips are fun….for us.