A Wedding, A Relative and a Match

Recently I was attending a relative's wedding, and though it was nothing close to big and fat, it was quite refreshingly Telugu and Indian. I am sure enough and more people have written their views on these weddings, but I shall now throw in my two cents on the issue. Along with excerpts of conversations I had there.
As my brother and father were rather busy, my mother and I were the sole representatives of my family at the wedding. My mother, like all mothers I suppose, is an expert at societal behavior. She knows exactly whose feet to touch, who's mother's sister's nephew is related to my dad's dad's blah blah, who's mother's sister's blah blah recently had surgery, etc. I on the other hand, need a diary or something to keep a record of all that- it just doesn't stay in my memory. So other than artificial air kissing (which never happens at our weddings) I am most useless at much else that social dos require. I do my best to generally melt into my mother's side and not exist, but people tend to pull you out from hiding places and talk to you.
The following conversation came about in just such circumstances.

I had managed to blend into the wedding rather well and I was proud of myself. Thus far, I had known the names of all the people I had met and I had had decent conversations with all of them. Just when I was getting comfortable enough to take a good look at the bride and groom, a lady swooped down on my mother and me from Never Never Land and accosted us.

“Vijiiiiiiiii!” She shrieked. “How are you???”

Amma looked startled, but smiled widely. I could see that she wasn’t too pleased to see the lady, but nevertheless gave that picture perfect smile of hers.

“It is such a surprise to see you here.” The lady continued before Amma could say anything. Then she caught sight of me trying to shrink into the background. “Is this your daughter??”

Amma nodded and grabbed my elbow. “Yes, this is…”

“She has become so pretty!” The lady gushed. Ok, I am not going on an egoistic trip here. It is a standard thing to say to people above 20- that they have grown into beautiful young ladies/gentlemen. This is because the “you have grown so tall” line does not work at that age.

Amma beamed at her. I swear that line works so well to get into the good books of parents.

The lady turned back to me. “Remember who I am?”

“Uh…” I faltered. “Yes.” No clue really.
“So, who am I?” She said, winking at my mother.
I could have cried. “Um…”
“These young people…” The lady gestured wildly. “They don’t know their own family trees!” She laughed, a very tinkling laugh, the sound of which I didn’t like too much. Then she continued, “So, what do you do?”
“Oh, I work at < >.” I said.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Such a reputed software company na!”
Oh if only she knew.
Amma and I nodded together.
“And you are an engineer?” She pressed.
“No, I did a BCA.”
My mother threw in the name of my college for good measure, like that would make a difference.
The lady nodded. “Very impressive.” She looked me up and down. “Have you started looking for alliances for her, Viji??”
Amma hesitated. She has a very misplaced fear that I will react rather violently at such questions. I don’t know where she got that idea from. “No, she still hasn’t done her Masters…” Amma said.
“You know, I know just the right match for her.” The lady cut in, leaning in conspiratorially.
“Yes, but her Masters degree…” Began Amma in protest.
“Ah, Mashters Swashters.” The lady waved one hand dramatically in the air. “She can study after marriage Viji.”
I smiled politely while my mother smirked. Sometimes, she gets a great kick out of seeing me having to shut my mouth and face such people.
“See the boy is actually…” The lady stopped, her eyes gleaming as she spotted something behind me and I wondered if she had seen some other poor unmarried person she needed to harass.
“Viji I will be right back.” She said. “Very busy, wedding….”
“Oh, its no problem.” Amma looked half- relieved. “I have to meet so many others too.”
We both had plastered smiles on our faces as the lady walked away.
Amma then smiled. “So, what do you think? Should I follow up on that alliance?”
“Not if she is involved in it in anyway!” I said, horrified.
Amma grinned.
“Besides I have to do my Masters.” I pointed out, using her own words.
“Ah, Mashters Swashters.” Amma said, turning away to greet the latest entrant into the wedding.