Saturday, March 26, 2016

Wedding Invitation

Mr. I-Told-You-So and Mrs. Emotional-Dramabazi

cordially (read because of society and because you invited us for your daughter's marriage) request the pleasure (yeah right!) of your company on the occasion of wedding of their son,

Mr Bechara Bakra, B.Tech (Obviously)


Ms. Emotionally Blackmailed, B. Tech (Again, obviously)

D/o Mrs. & Mr. Soon-To-Be-Kangaal

Address Is Vague Because We Don't Want You To Enquire

on Friday, the 13th of May 2016


That Big Marriage Hall in the City with Air Conditioned Halls and Little Parking

and for lunch thereafter.

Please consider this as our personal invitation and graze the occasion with your esteemed presence. Please make this occasion memorable with your hushed whispers about the bride, her dress, her make-up, the amount of the jewellery, the food, what you heard about our family in the grapevine, and other gossips you heard in the rumour mill, because the food and the drinks are free, the hall is air-conditioned, and we are paying for everything.

Also consider this as our personal invitation to speculate on and/or discuss the future life of our son and our bahu from day 1 including when they should have a baby, whether our son is virile, or a gay, or whether the bahu should see your gynaecologist or any other matter you find worthy of your discussions during the next marriage of someone you know.

Your presence is the best present!

(But yes, we are keeping a tab of the presents because we had our son's marriage in mind when we gave you all those presents on different occasions)

(Because we have to inform the bride's parents whether they will have to mortgage the house too)

Tuesday, March 08, 2016

That One Time In Paris

"Why did we meet? I mean, the virtual meet. Why did you comment on my blog? What were you looking for?" 

She asked him, as she sipped her citrus crush from the comforts of her wicker chair. The joint was an extended balcony overlooking the balcony, with old and ruined red brick half walls, overgrown with vines. It was called Paris. Her eyes returned from the sea and stared into his eyes for a moment, searching for an answer that didn't matter.

"Nothing in particular." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Why did we meet? Maybe because of the Butterfly Effect. Maybe, because a butterfly flapped its wings somewhere!"

And he smiled.