My brother got married. Part 2.

By the time I was picked up by my brother and his friends to go to Lonavala, it was 9. I had so much energy by then, I'd spent the past hour leaping around the house, drinking incredible amounts of coffee, being like, tonight's going to be a good night, yeeeah.

I hate that song by the way. I'm sure I've said this somewhere before, but when I first moved to Delhi, and had no friends, that song would be playing everywhere. Everywhere. Tonight's going to be a good night. And it was never a good night. That song is a lie.

The car ride was okay. I felt sort of sick, and I think everyone was afraid I was going to throw up. But  solved the problem by falling asleep.

When we were close to Lonavla, we stopped at some petrol pump station that also had loads of shops and things, and I met my brother's oldest, closest friend, Best Friend #1, whom I've heard a lot about. My brother once wrote this really embarrassing blog post about how he wanted me to get together with Best Friend #1 and I'd replied with some comment about how I wasn't interested in his balding, middle-aged friends. Best Friend #1 wasn't middle aged, or balding (he was bald) but he was also very nice, even though I don't think we're going to get together anytime soon, sorry, Zaev, you're still going to have to deal with me hooking up with people you know absolutely nothing about and spending the rest of your life being concerned about my welfare. Anyway, I travelled the rest of the way with him, and another close friend of his, whom I warmed to instantly, because she spent the first fifteen minutes talking about what a moron my brother was which I found highly entertaining.

Then we missed the turning to Lonavla, and I was less entertained. It was already midnight by this point, and past my bedtime, but just as I started feeling grumpy, we reached the house we were going to be staying at.

I had a momentary fit of anxiety when I stepped out of the car and saw about twenty people, none of whom I knew. Spent the first half-hour glued to my brother's side, but then I was fed absinthe and things got pretty good after that.

I really don't know what I got up to most of the night. I know there was drinking involved, and I was talking to a lot of people. Had a nice conversation with BIL where I informed him that I was coming to visit, and he didn't look horrified, and I remember getting on with SIL very well, until she ended up passing out - not from drink, because she was sick.

And then, towards the end, I started talking to Brother's Best Friend #2 whom I now, for some reason, think of as the Doable One. I don't remember what we talked about, or even if we did much talking. I remember that he didn't make fun of my music (unlike some other people hovering around). And that I harmlessly flirted with him and probably made an ass of myself because that is what I do when I get drunk and flirt with people. And then I fell asleep. Don't know how I got to bed; must have been quite an effort.

You know, I really wanted to document this entire weekend, but now that I'm writing about it, I realized that I basically just spent it smoking and drinking. It wasn't forgettable, not at all, but still. I won't be able to write about it properly, the way it should be written about. Here are a few points though:

1. I became so fond of SIL that I just booked a ticket to Bangalore so I can go visit them in a couple of weeks and get to know her better. Also, my brother doesn't know this, I intend on stealing his jeep and taking it for a spin. I'm going to ask him nicely whether I can drive it, but I know he will refuse to let me because it's his way of displaying power and authority to his little sister. I will rebel, however, and I will sneak that damn jeep out and drive it around Bangalore. And even if he finds out, what's he going to do? There's nothing he can do except lecture me on my irresponsibility, youth and foolishness, and that's old hat now.

2. I'm also really happy my brother got married. When I first heard, I was a bit sceptical. I was like, what is he thinking, has he totally lost the plot? But after meeting SIL and BIL and their family, I have come to honestly believe that this is one of the best decisions my brother has ever made. There was this moment, just before I left for the airport, when I was sitting in SIL's house, and talking to her and her parents, with my brother mooching around, and I heard him call his father-in-law 'dad' and at that moment, I just felt so happy for him. Marriages don't necessarily last forever, they hardly ever do, and this may not, but my brother's found himself a second family, one that is more steady, more selfless than our own, and I don't think anyone deserves something like that more than my brother does.

3. The last time I spoke to my brother, he told me that he's okay if I ever hook up with the Doable One because he knows the Doable One so well, him being my brother's best friend. And then he droned on and on about that unsuspecting soul, telling me all sorts of unwanted information about him. At that point, though I hadn't really thought about it, I would have said that I wouldn't have minded, er, flirting a bit more with the Doable One, should I ever happen to see him again. As soon as my brother gave me his blessing though, the Doable One seemed less doable. In fact, he is no longer doable. He is now the Un-doable One. I don't know whether my brother is a moron who knows nothing about how girls' minds work (or at least my mind), or whether he is extremely smart, and knew what my reaction was going to be and so gave me his blessing, hoping to achieve exactly this. Hm.

4. Bombay is a very pretty city. I have heard from people that it's not, that parts of it are terrible, but I didn't see much, and what I saw was quite wonderful. The sun was hot, but there was always a sharp breeze, the sort that cuts through your skin. There are areas of the city with winding streets, lined by trees that bend overhead, creating an arch for sunlight to filter in. The houses are in different styles. I saw the red tiled roofs that reminded me of my grandfather's old home in Spain, and I saw houses that looked like Tudor cottages, and stately colonial mansions, and houses that were just an amalgamation of goodness knows what, an attractive and colourful and delightful mess. And always with you is the smell of the sea, and behind it, under it, once you've pushed back the heavy curtain of voices and traffic, its sound: a placid, eternal grumble.

5. I wish I could have done more justice to that weekend in this blog. But I can't, so I haven't really bothered trying. It was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of deal, and it was very special, and it made me realize how much I love my family, especially my brother.



Sree said...

aww :)

Anonymous said...

From doable to not doable...interesting...your brother sounds like an intelligent person...