Satire Columns

New policy announcement

Suddenly all around me everyone seems to be getting married. At the risk of revealing my age, these are mostly entitled offspring of hapless old friends, with a few old friends themselves going in for their second and third attempts. It looks like people want a last chance to make someone miserable before the world ends. Well, that someone isn’t going to be me. And this is my new set of conditions as a wedding and allied-event guest.

If the bride and groom arrive late for their own reception, I will sit on their gaudy flower-bedecked throne and have myself beautified to the fullest extent (by my hair and make-up team that will accompany me for all future wedding-related celebrations) till they arrive. This may include a full body wax. My team’s daily ‘bata’ and conveyance will be borne by the hosts, of course. The gifts brought by the early-bird guests, obviously, will automatically become mine.

If I see a drone camera covering the event, I will shoot it down with the catapult I have carried in my pocket ever since I read my first Dennis the Menace. I don’t see any reason for anyone to have an aerial view of a wedding. This is not North by Northwest we are covering, this is a scared (not a typo) union of two people who don’t know any better.

When it is time to give my gift, I will not bring dishonour to my family by standing in queue to give someone something. Queues by their very definition were created for receiving. I will not demean the concept in this manner. Either the bride and groom can wait at the entrance like they used to in the ‘90s to receive guests (hint: it is called reception), or I’ll chuck the gift at them from where I’m sitting. I have a pretty good arm.

There will be a return policy on my gifts. If the union doesn’t make it past the one-year mark, I will expect my gift back. Goods once damaged will not be accepted. My team will come and collect in cash. A 10% sympathy discount will be offered as consolation, keeping in mind the condition of the couple’s parents. Anything more than 365 days, and the gift remains with the recipients. Fair is fair.

At the sangeet, if I am made to watch a dance item performed by the bride, her parents, the groom, his parents or all the uncles and aunts from both sides who have been rounded up from assisted-living facilities, I will be performing my own solo number. It will be an 11-minute River Dance-Kathakali fusion number about the triumph of good over evil.

If camera people block my view, my staff will gently escort them to the parking lot and confiscate their equipment. Why should I get a gift, drive all the way, and have hell finding parking space if I’m going to be watching the ceremony on TV? Under extreme circumstances, I may have my people hack into TVs and play The Shining at the time of thali tying.

Coming to drinks and dinner, I will be served good whisky, not the Royal Challenge pretending to be Black Label from the second drink onwards. If a fake is detected, I will drink my own liquor and charge the host club rates. If the dinner is a buffet, again, I will not stand in queue. The bride and groom may serve me, say thank you for coming, and all will be forgiven.

Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist. He has written four books and edited an anthology.

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Printable version | Jan 23, 2022 12:02:59 PM |

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