Wedding Shopper

January 7, 2012 by Hamza 12 Comments

Shopping was never one of my strong-suits. Neither do I like the damn process one bit! Where I come from, everyone knows how to bargain. Every single man in the district knows how to bargain. Hell! the first thing taught to a boy visiting the market for the first time is that the shopkeeper is the enemy, fight the enemy, until he gives in to your demands. But for the better or the worse, I don’t know how to do that.

I hate it. If I have to get a piece of clothing, I just tell someone else that when they go to the market, grab the ugliest looking jacket you can get your hands on, it’ll work for me. The pricey ones need deep pockets. Besides I take a liking to whatever I wear for more than two days, so it doesn’t really matter either way. I know I’ll grow into them eventually.

So when my brother told he was getting married within a week, my first reaction to the supposedly happy news was anyone’s guess. In a nutshell, I wasn’t glad in the least. After attending many weddings of cousins, I had a vague idea that there was one job of the siblings of the groom.

Shop!

My expression throughout the first few days was a forced smile. And all the while I was thinking,”I have to get out of this, I HAVE to find a way.” Everybody knows of my fear of the market. So it was delayed to the last possible moment without question. All I did was keep thinking,”Someway, there must be someway out of this.”

Then it hit me.

I had forgotten completely,  my papers were still on! I had an exam on Saturday.

The perfect excuse!

My expected first visit for the wedding shopping was at that night. Unexpectedly for everyone, I was more than happy packing my stuff.

“Why is he packing in the first place? It’s not like he’s going on vacation.”

“Shut up! Don’t interrupt, finally! my boy has grown a pair.”

“It doesn’t matter how he chooses to go, he’s going! Wow!”

Humming to myself, I packed a bag, with all my paper related stuff and the other, usual necessities. I slung it over my shoulder, and with a smug smile, announced that I was going to stay at my aunt’s place through the wedding. I had come up with an excuse nobody could reject, the answer was right there, in front of me. It was a stroke of genius. Well, not nearly as dramatic, but you get the picture.

They knew what was going on, yet they couldn’t do anything about it. They were outclassed. With knowing smiles, I was ushered out, or thrown out, whichever seems appropriate, the latter. “Well played.” I thought to myself,”Well played indeed.” When I was leaving, in the background, I heard girls squealing.

“Yeah, this is their domain, let the masters show us how its done.”

In the 24 hours that were available to me for studying, I spent 3 or 4 doing that. The rest? Admiring my own genius! Now, the wedding is out of the way, and I am back, exams finished.

I will sleep now, compensate all those lost hours, you know. Like there’s no tomorrow.