My Awkwardness

Biryani with a side of Awksauce

Its that time of the year again! Just kidding. Wedding season is all year long when you’re Indian. But of course the number of wedding invitations in your mailbox magically triples during the summer. But let’s get one thing straight. I hate weddings. Here’s why:

1. The wedding invitation says “no boxed gifts please.” I mean really, you’re practically asking me to judge you.
2. The wedding invitation says come at 7pm, even though nobody shows up until nine.
3. “Dinner will be served at nine” is the biggest lie ever.
4. I have to buy a dress.
5. Awkwardly and inevitably running into someone you know, including a bunch of aunties and uncles whose names you can never remember.
6. Awkward group photos.
7. Doing it all over again the next day.

Maybe I’m just biased because the last three weddings I’ve been to have been acquaintances so it was less fun. I never understood that about indian weddings. Why do you let your aunts and uncles invite a bunch of their random friends that you don’t know to watch you get married? I thought that was your parents’ job.

Either way, these last three weddings I went to were just AWKWARD. Like, I felt bad for the bride and groom. The speeches at the first one were just horrible, and no one could even understand what the groom’s brother was trying to say. The second wedding was so bad that they played fake applause because no one was clapping. And the third one…it started so late that by the time people were saying speeches, guest were already leaving. And there was a Sweet Sixteen going on next door. They were blasting dirty Rihanna songs while the Bride and Groom were saying their vows. Plus the food wasn’t that great. I mean, if you’re going to have a Hyderabadi wedding, you should at least make sure you have decent biryani. Plus, there was no cake. At least the other two weddings had cake.

And they were all awkward for me because I had no one to sit with. My mom sat with all the aunties in our “group” and of course my dad sat with the uncles. As usual, when I went to go sit with all their daughters their table was conveniently full. Its not like any of them were going to bother to make room for me. So, I was left to fend for myself at a kids table where their annoying, preteen, little sisters were discussing One Direction and gossiping about Islamic school.

Did I mention I hate weddings? 

Moral of the story: Don’t have a suckish wedding. Otherwise I will blog about it and embarrass you.

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