- Stay Way From A Kid BoyfriendPosted 566 days ago
- Pleasing Your Girlfriend Isn’t SimplePosted 570 days ago
- The Masala Bhangra WorkoutPosted 571 days ago
- As Kim Takes Off Her Ring: Kim Kardashian DivorcePosted 571 days ago
- Love Chemistry And Those Little Reactions Book GiveawayPosted 574 days ago
- The Delhi Bloggers Meet Organised By Cupid SpeaksPosted 579 days ago
- The Entrepreneurship KeedaPosted 583 days ago
- The Suicide Banker Free Copies ContestPosted 585 days ago
- The King Of Controversies Is BACK: Bigg Boss 5Posted 590 days ago
- Wish Amitabh Bachchan Happy BirthdayPosted 592 days ago
A few days before my wedding, I was looking at the various pictures shared by my friends of their own wedding. A few were really good while most of the others looked nearly same. I decided to beat them all and have the best wedding album. You don’t have the best wedding until you get at least a hundred likes on the facebook wedding album. So, mediocre stuff wasn’t going to work for me. Half my work was already done. The photographer was selected. I had seen his work and liked it. I made a mental list of the various poses in which the pics had to be clicked. All set, I was waiting for the D-day.
The wedding day was a totally different story altogether. The wedding was scheduled at 9.52 AM. Yes! That’s precisely how the auspicious timing is set. There was a puja at home before that. So, the puja was at an unearthly hour of 5 AM. The photographer refused to come that early. I don’t blame him. Given a choice even I would have gladly missed it and caught on some beauty sleep. Sleepy eyed I got dressed and sat for the puja. Enthusiastic cousins were clicking pictures of me in my semi-conscious state too. But I didn’t bank on those pictures. The puja took longer than expected. I was left with just one hour to change and reach the venue. I dressed super quick, with everyone chipping in to make me look beautiful. I was impressed with the results, given the time they took. I was already running late. By then, the photographer had also arrived. He asked me to pose for a few pictures. But my dad brushed him aside saying that we were already late. I meekly got into the car and headed to the venue.
Needless to say, I was a little disappointed. I wanted to have a few photographs taken before the make up started running down. I consoled myself saying that there would be plenty of opportunities once I reached the venue. Maybe, I can take nicer photographs along with A. (A is my hubby-to-be). I imagined taking some cheesy poses that we could strike together. But, how wrong I was! As soon as we reached the venue, the panditji started reciting slokas. The ceremony had begun in full swing. But for me, the wedding doesn’t start until the photography started. As if sensing my disappointment, the photographer started taking pictures from various angles even as we were busy performing the rituals. It looked as though he was doing a good job. Nevertheless, I still had my own reservations. I called out to him to suggest something. My mom gave me such a glare that it silenced me for the rest of the ceremony.
Finally, the wedding was over. I was now happily married to A. More importantly, I could now take as many pictures as I wanted. Fate had something else up its sleeve. People started coming up the stage to congratulate us. Each person was coming, shaking hands with us, saying a word or two and happily smiling as they posed for a picture. The photographer obligingly took pictures of every well-wisher. Yes, photographs were being taken. But I wanted my pictures. I didn’t want anyone else to share the frame. Maybe A could share the screen space for a few pictures but none of the others. However, the stream of visitors continued endlessly. I was getting tired of standing for so long and smiling. The queue finally got over after agonizingly long.
“Time for my photographs” I wanted to scream. By then, my hair was disheveled, the petals from the flowers started falling, the kajal was smeared, my eyes were drooping and my legs were aching. Even my smile was coming across as a grimace. “Madam, why don’t you pose for a few photos?” the request came. What should have sounded sweet to my ears sounded like death sentence. Wanting to be a sport, I tried posing. ‘Tilt your head’, ‘put your left foot forward’, ‘smile a little’, and ‘turn to your right‘. The instructions kept coming. The photographer refused to listen to my suggestions. The torture continued for some more time. At last, I was exasperated and didn’t want any photographs taken. I politely excused myself and thrust A in front of the cameras.
So much drama ensued for having the best wedding album in town. Now, I am waiting for the photographer to deliver the album. Hope that the pictures come out reasonably well. There is photoshop, so there is still hope. Even mediocre will do. The best will have to take a backseat for now.