Opinion

Oh, what to give, what to give as a wedding present?



The other night, I had a dream. I’d been invited for the Ambani wedding, and couldn’t for the life of me figure out what to give them as a present. I woke up sweating, then fell back on my bed in relief – the wedding was over. I hadn’t been invited. I needn’t worry.I wondered about the source of my anxiety. My fretfulness, it seems, stems from recent reports about the gifts the newlyweds received – from luxury cars and sports bikes, to valuable paintings and emerald neckpieces, with the odd golden pen thrown in. SRK apparently bought them an apartment in France. At times, the reports are conflicting. While one publication says that X gifted them a yacht, the other will say, no, it was Y – ‘X actually gifted them a private jet’. No wonder, the listicles are preceded by a disclaimer: ‘Here’s the list of alleged luxurious gifts received by…’

What if a billionaire actually invited me to a wedding? Look, I’m a man of modest means. A couple of days back, Kamala Harris, in a fiery speech delivered in Indianapolis, said she wanted the average American to get ahead rather than just get by. I’m the kind of guy who, by temperament, wants to do the opposite – get by rather than get ahead.

While I certainly can’t gift a luxury car, what I can do is gift something that holds immense emotional value to me. These are things found in my house, or in my neighbourhood. As they say with presents, it’s the thought that matters.

Like the old Orpat clock that I had in college and which stopped working a long time back. That clock marked my youth, my undergraduate years are fossilised in it. My mother doesn’t throw away old clocks, but by shaking it with a certain measured intensity, and by holding it at certain angle, she can make it work for a few precious seconds. The dead heart starts to beat again, albeit briefly.Then there’s my grandmother’s maroon Maruti 800, which, after her death, I’ve renamed Rosy Pelican after the legendary beer from the 1990s. Unlike the clock, this works like clockwork. My only condition for the new owner – the 800 should be the leader car in a cavalcade. All billionaires – well, almost all – have humble beginnings.Now, if I’m giving you the Rosy, I might as well give you my little square boAt speaker. The car doesn’t have a music system, but I’ve never felt the need to install one. The hack/ jugaad is this – Bluetooth it to your phone, switch on cheap mobile data, and connect to any live radio station in the world.If you’re into pets, how about Dollar, the pooch. He’s my neighbour’s dog. She named him, but he’s more of a street-dog these days. She’s moved on to fancier breeds, but keeps an eye on him, especially when he gets his ear bitten off in a fight. Possibly the friendliest dog in the world, he was at his happiest when my neighbour rented out her premises to Iskcon. He loved being petted by a hundred strangers every day.

Dollar would fit right into any Malibu or Cumballa Hill mansion. With a first name like his, no billionaire would mind bestowing him with their surname.

Or, I might just walk down to Prem’s kirana store and buy a packet of Wai Wai noodles for a present. Apart from being the nation’s comfort food, it provides a lesson in affordable pricing – its price goes up by ₹2 every five years.

After the wedding is done, and the presents opened, what comes next is the honeymoon. Perhaps, the best gift is to offer my place as a honeymoon getaway. The paps wouldn’t have a clue. The couple can recuperate in peace. There’s only one catch: I don’t have any help at home. You’ll have to boil your own egg.



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