Perfectly Imperfect

     Indian Dads have this quirky, 'I can't express, you understand' way of loving their daughters. Love for them is occasionally attending open houses to secretly admire the demon turned angel teacher of the class for that day. So innocent and pure is the love, that they themselves don't realise the depth of it till the daughter herself falls in love. 

      So this is our love story. My father's and mine. He realised or to be more precise confessed to it only when I found myself in romantic love with Mr. Wallet. Those were the days when my father was in quest of a suitable Arabian horse for his Arabian mare. Yes its a horse race to find a suitable (package includes a 2BHK flat, only son, parents not staying together, ambitious wants to go aboard, etc.)  match. You thought I forgot to mention good looking. No!!! That isn't the criteria till he has the money to camouflage his horsey looks. 

My declaration of love brought more of a financial shock rather than emotional one to my father.  Those were the days Mr. Wallet didn't have money to purchase a decent wallet forget loading it with the valued piece of paper. Our dates were calculated risk ventures. Risk to my future calculated by him!!! 

      My father made deliberate, unsuccessful attempts in pulling the opposite poles apart. Emotional dramas to financial threatening all that you see in a Sooraj Bharjatiya's blockbuster was bursted. From calling my black horse a donkey to predicting our progeny to be a mule, everything was declared to the rooftop. Hybridisation was not a novelty back then but still all the modernisation, evolution of mindset and philosophies are reserved for the neighbour's kid. Your own offspring for that matter has to be sterotyped following age-old customs and family dictums. In this,  I chose to be a black sheep. And didn't believe in shedding my wool for the sake of the society though Baba was asking for it. 

       On one such dark( pardon me for being a racist) cloudy evening Daddy Dear declared that next week  I was to be married to gem of a person. According to Baba, never had mankind produced such a masterpiece in the history of evolution. He was an IIT Bombay product, pursuing his final semester at IIM Ahmedabad. A bright future awaited him in the Trump Land. Only son of his beloved parents who owned crores of not rupees but dollars. ( Only child sometimes makes me wonder whether there are preference issues or fertility ones??) 

     On a pushed formal meeting with this nerd, I question him about his future plans. For which his one eyeball deviates to his mother on the right and other to his father on left. As mothers are always right, the jewellry showroom on right blurts, " Our son will leave for the US post his final sem. " So this Air India flight hoping to become Emirates someday will take off at the mercy of his pilot mother. I somehow start getting evil pleasure in questioning this spineless amoeba whose oral orifices are governed by his mother. ZOOM goes the next question. "What are your passions in life? " Listening to this the jewellery showroom on right goes scarlet red in both the cheeks, as if I had asked about her son's darkest fantasies. The motionless piece of furniture on the left also called the boy's father suddenly shows a vertical movement of eyebrows. This poor soul's contribution to the spineless amoeba's life could only be in the form of sperms. Whatever be his contribution but the amoeba family is disturbed by my interrogation. 

    " Isn't your daughter too bold to ask such questions?" rhetores the jewellery showroom. To which my 5ft 11" father bows down to say, " No, No she is just a curious child." CHILD MY FOOT!!!  If Iam a child, then child marriages have long been banned. Thanks to Raja Ram Mohan Roy. And now I'm going to ban this Ram Sita and their baby Raja from spoiling any other girl's life, forget mine. 

       She speaks and not just says, " My dear parents and the assembled spectacular audiences here. Iam in love with a very ordinary guy. And yes Iam bold enough to accept it and say it. He is ordinary in terms of education, money, looks and living. No jewellery or luxury to flaunt. No exclusivity of being the only son. He shares his birth rights with an equally humble sibbling. So here Iam to marry a PERFECTLY IMPERFECT PERSON. We are perfect to such an extend that we are ready to share our imperfections. He has decided to stand by me than by his parents' convictions. His belief in our love is more than the traditional beliefs of the society. Its not about His Dreams, His Ambitons,  His passions. It's about Our Space, Our growth and Our love. And now my dear audiences leave Our House amicably  to sell your commodity somewhere else!!!"

    They left eight years back and now time for me to leave you alone with all the thoughts, images or memories of your own Love Story. AU REVOIR.