Why is it dangerous to be 28 and single !!

I happened to visit my native (Kanpur) for Diwali. Of-course visiting your family and other relatives (mostly insignificant) is always an enjoyable thing for everyone but what makes these visits all the more interesting to me is the number of 'You know he didn't even have money to afford....' stories of famous personalities that I get to hear from these relatives (mostly completely insignificant) to indirectly point out how ungrateful I am or have been.

They will start with the stories of other great men like Lal Bahadur Shastri, saying 'You know he used to walk through a river to his school keeping his books on the head'. Gradually they would come to the story of some neighbor or a close relative, finally slipping past me their own story: 'You know when I was in school, I have to submit my old-used-shortened pencil before my mother will issue me a new one'. Then of-course there will be that ageless story of 'You know I used to get 50 paise as daily pocket money, of which I would buy a samosa for 25 paise and save the remaining 25 paise.'

And if having to endure the spiritual heartache of witnessing such specimens at soul-endangeringly close quarters doesn't breaks one down, their belief that each of their sons is earning lakhs per month is certain to test the tensile strength of your brain nerves. 'My son has a package of 36 lakhs per annum. You know he recently purchased a brand new Maruti Alto.'  Ya! Bite Me!!

All this trash talk makes me wonder what would have been the scenario if I had a mafia/underworld background. I guess then my relatives would have said: 'You know he had to wait for four long years before he could attempt his first bank robbery due to lack of a motorbike', 'You know he didn't even have access to a real hand pistol to learn in his early years, still he turned out quite a gem, eh? '

This pic is probably too serious
 for this article.But its 2'o clock
 in the night.If you want an
appropriate pic, hunt yourself!

I am 28 and single, somehow these stats don't go down well with the relatives. I might not even be knowing the names of some of these relatives, but still they have this itch of getting me 'settled' as if currently I am residing in some home for the shelterless.

Mothers, of-course have their own way of persuasion when it comes to marriage. Unlike the senior male relatives' hammer-and-tongs approach, mothers have a very soft approach towards the victim, which in this case is their son. For instance my mother's modus operandi  revolves around first carefully weaving the 'achievement' thread around me and then finally strangulating me into submission, so whenever I achieve something, she suggests that this is the perfect occasion to get married. Be it a job promotion or car acquisition. Things went out of control when I suggested to her that I am going to buy a home theater for me. Somehow we Indians have convinced ourselves that one cannot indulge in any kind of enjoyment or luxury unless married.

Aforesaid scenario makes me wonder about the hardships that a 28-and-single guy might be facing in Pakistan. I guess his mother would say something like this while serving him lunch: 'I have had enough off you! Enough of these terrorist activities. Once you are back from this suicide bombing mission, I am getting you married. I have already set up your marriage with Laden Chaccha's daughter. They say she makes very good home-made hand grenades as well.' 

One thing that I always look out for while visiting my native is the gossip stories of guys-girls running away from their families in love. Sadly, with passing time and increasing number of love-marriages (which get approved later by the families) such stories are getting extinct. Not only did such stories of defiance gave me and my friends enough masala for gossip, it also opened new horizons of opportunities for us as well. I myself once tried to run once during school days but the girl stood up on me. Needless to say, later I had a hard time explaining my parents what exactly I was doing out there with a bag of clothes at 5 a.m. in the morning.

I guess no discussion about my native Kanpur could be completed without mentioning its beautiful railway station. Now I am not sure if there is any international organisation which keeps records of the most yuck railway stations, but if indeed there is one, then Kanpur's railway station would be the numero uno among the lot. Its difficult, rather painful, to believe that the director of Bunti Aur Babli chose Kanpur's railway station to shoot. 

However, there are certain things that I never fail to witness at a railway station, Kanpur or otherwise. Firstly, whenever you are at a railway station you always start thinking how good/bad your native's railway station is as compared to that one. Secondly and on this one I can bet my life, that you will always find a TT-Uncle pair on the platform with the uncle trying to arrange for an extra berth/seat. Thirdly, no matter how well-off you are financially, there will always be a constant debate whether to buy the platform ticket or not. In case people do buy it, they will try their best so that the ticket checker checks on them, trying to walk by him as closely as possible and behave weirdly like an alien. 


So do you have anything special to say about your relatives? 


P.S. In case you liked what you have read here (which I don't think so), do read one of my old and all-time favorite pieces about the irritating things that we have to put up in the trains: 

On a Train of Thoughts with a one-way Ticket to Hell!!