The Moaning of Life. Karl PilkingtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
You know, we really didn’t ask him that. Probably a year.
KARL: Is that all?
VITHIKA: That’s a long time.
I suppose, considering Shivani was talking about marriage after knowing me for just over an hour, a year is a long time in India. Before setting off for the ceremony I checked my phone and Suzanne had sent me a text saying Happy Valentine’s Day. I’d been too busy to remember. I think it’s all a con, anyway. If there’s one night that I can guarantee I’ll be in, it’s February the fourteenth. If you go out, you’re getting ripped off paying over the odds for an average meal. It’s just another day for card companies to make some money. Did you know the diamond anniversary was invented by a diamond company? It won’t be long before we have a Brillo Pad day. I actually blame shelving. If it wasn’t for shelving, people wouldn’t have cards. In fact, get rid of shelving and we’d get rid of a lot of crap in the world. Ornaments would also go. We don’t need them. Shelves just hold shit these days, so get rid.
DIVYA: We go to the groom’s house now. Please help him to get ready and be around him, so if he needs any help he can ask you for it.
KARL: How old is he? Why does he need help getting dressed?
VITHIKA: We don’t mean that you’re putting his clothes on for him, but there are things he needs to put on his head that you have to make sure are straight, because for every picture he has to make sure that the turban sits properly on his head.
DIVYA: Basically, you are not to leave him unattended at any given point in time. Just be around him.
I was given a traditional-looking suit to wear to the ceremony. Considering I’m not the groom it was pretty fancy. It’s the sort of thing my auntie Nora likes. Even the colour, magnolia, is right for her. She loves magnolia. Everything in her house is magnolia. I reckon if she went to play paintball she’d only play if she could shoot magnolia. It was the sort of suit Elvis wore on stage in Vegas, yet all I’d be doing was making sure some bloke’s hat is on straight. It was covered in beads and little plastic pearls. Washing machines up and down India must get jammed all the time with people washing these things. We went round to the apartment where the family were getting ready. I knew it was going to be a long day . . .
9.30 a.m.
I met Vik the groom. He was having his turban fitted. Vithika explained again that it was my responsibility to make sure the turban wasn’t covering his eyes. I told her Vik would know himself if it was covering his eyes, as he wouldn’t be able to see.
9.40 a.m.
I was asked to move all the guests upstairs to the roof terrace where the puja was going to take place. This would involve close friends and family blessing Vik before leaving for the temple. I asked them about three times to move, but people were ignoring me. I asked louder and then got told off for shouting. I got confused as I thought I saw the same girl twice and it turned out they were twins. They were the spitting image of each other. It would be odd to go out with a twin, as when the other one gets married you would know that their husband also fancies your wife. That’s why I can’t believe it when people say they’ve found ‘the one’. If it’s a twin you’re going out with, how do you know it’s ‘the right one’?
9.50 a.m.
Everyone was finally upstairs, candles were lit and rice was sprinkled over Vik for good luck. Guests dipped their wedding finger into some red powder and then touched Vik’s forehead to leave a mark. This is considered important, as it represents the third eye. They believe the usual two eyes see the outside world and the third sees inside and helps you trust your intuition. I suppose this is similar to how we have a ‘gut’ feeling. I go with my gut rather than my head to make decisions. Maybe they use the third eye in India as they can’t trust their guts as much due to all the spicy food. Mine had been playing up since I had arrived in India – I had a red eye, but it wasn’t on my face.
10 a.m.
I tried to get everyone downstairs to the cars to head out to the temple. I’d have had more luck herding ants. No one seemed to be listening. Some woman was helping herself to some cornflakes in the kitchen. I don’t even know if she was part of the family or someone who had wandered in off the street.
KARL: Let’s go, everybody!
VITHIKA: Karl, just say, ‘One last call, we’re leaving.’
KARL: Okay. (to guests) This is it now, we’re not messing about. We’re leaving now. If you don’t come . . . I’ve told you.
DIVYA: Be polite.
KARL: It’s hard to be polite when they’re not listening.
VITHIKA: Guests in India are like gods, so you do not . . . It’s okay if they don’t come, you carry on to the next thing. But, please, you cannot get angry.
There was a kerfuffle in the hallway as people tried to find their shoes. I stayed in the apartment until they had cleared. I prefer to wait than be in a crowd. I do the same when boarding a plane. I waited for five minutes, and two pairs of shoes were left – mine and the pair that must have belonged to the woman who was busy eating cornflakes. It was like an advert for Crunchy Nut. If she wanted breakfast she should have got up earlier.
11.15 a.m.
We arrived at the temple and waited for the bride to turn up. I had to stand by Vik’s car like a spare part to be ready to open the door when it was time for him to get out, but after twenty minutes of standing in the heat I decided to get in the back. Vinnie, Vik’s brother, was in the driver’s seat.
VINNIE: It’s a lot more complicated than a Christian or Catholic wedding, hey?
KARL: Dead right. I was in Vegas a couple of days ago. They do drive thru weddings, all done in ten minutes.
VINNIE: Seriously? Drive thru wedding?
KARL: Telling ya, drive thru wedding.
VINNIE: The whole custom? In the car?
KARL: Yep.
Mind you, with the traffic in India being so mental, a drive thru wouldn’t be as straightforward here. Nothing is straightforward in India. I noticed Vithika was watching me, so I checked Vik’s hat and gave her the thumbs up. I heard trumpets being blown and was asked to get out of the car. Deepa, the bride, had arrived. Divya told me to hurry over to the entrance to welcome people in. If the whole point of these massive weddings is to impress, I reckon having me, a bald white man in a magnolia beaded suit, at every corner, the guests are just going to think it’s been done on a shoestring. The trumpets were making a horrible sound. It was similar to that sound you hear when you trap a wasp behind a curtain and its wings go mental.
11.30 a.m.
Managed to get a good seat at the front inside. Vik and his family were on one side and Deepa’s on the other. The twins from earlier were stood with her as photographs were being taken. Having the twins there made it look tidy. Like bookends. I played spot the difference to keep myself entertained.
11.45 a.m.
Around five hundred people were crammed into the temple. I honestly don’t know that many people. I’ve only got fifty-seven contacts in my mobile, and that includes the local chip shop, the old chip shop and a bloke I met once who can replace car windows. I was just hoping people wouldn’t start doing speeches, otherwise this could be a long day. Maybe that’s why the celebration goes on for four days.