Thursday, March 03, 2005

விருந்தினர்ப்பதிவு -நந்தகுமார் ராதாக்ருஷ்ணன்

The Bachelor

It was not "someone" who called me a bachelor thefirst time. It was "something". The brownofficial-looking envelope I received by registeredpost that day had my degree certificate in it.'Bachelor of...', it announced in somewhat gaudyletters as I stood smiling. Bachelor!
Till then I was a boy, a brother, a student andwhatnot -- but not a bachelor. All of a sudden, thatimportant piece of paper had given me a new identity.


I know you are dying to tell me things like 'thisbachelor is not that bachelor', but believe me, thevery next day my phone rang. It was my real-estateagent, an uneasy reminder to the approachingexpiration of the initial company accommodation. "Sir,you are a bachelor, are you not?"

"Sure, I am," I said, almost adding, "and now I haveproof of that, if you need."

"Sorry sir. The owner is not willing to give thehouse to bachelors. But don't worry, sir, I have manyother houses. You see..."

So that's how it is. No country for the people ofPalestine. No food for starving Somalis. No trees formigrating birds. And yes, no houses for poorbachelors.

They are not welcome in residential areas. Bachelorsparty and make noise round the clock. They go afterthe neighborhood girls. They don't respect the normsof the colony. They come in groups...

Anyway, I learnt my lesson: Bachelors don't have allthe civil rights that 'normal' citizens enjoy. Butthen, what do we have that makes many a married guycherish the memories of his long-lost bachelorhood?

Palestinians have to cling to their land. Migratingbirds are bound by directions. But a bachelor has fewrestrictions. Except for renting an apartment andwalking into one those stupid 'couples only' clubs,he can have everything else.

He gets up at any time and sneaks into the officeunnoticed when others get ready for lunch. He sits toalmost any time in front of the computer withoutworrying about anxious where-are-you calls. He staysaway from the house for days and no questions areasked. He does whatever he wants on the weekend, inthe company of his friends...

Yes. Friends are the most important aspect of anybachelor's life. Without them he practically has noexistence, especially if he's staying away from home.But then one day, over the thundering music and thefirst round of cold beer in a dimly lit pub, heannounces his plans to get married to this cute girlthat someone else had found for him. Over the doublecheers, the naughty comments and laughter, I becomeaware of something that hurts me somewhere.

My friend's getting married. Of course it'ssomething to celebrate. But then, that also means he'sleaving the gang! We attend his wedding, the mostcolorful function of his life, in full spirits. All of us. We give him gifts, wish him good luck and retreatto our good old world, one member less. It does nottake much time before we find him reduced tomuch-delayed replies to our bunch of mails -- and asfor phone calls, that comes only once in a blue moon.

For my part, I watch the pile of wedding invitationsin the corner of my desk grow at an amazing, alarmingpace. Before I know it, most of my cool buddies aregone. And the rest of us soon realize that we are notalways welcome to the new circle the married men haveformed. So we seek solace behind those office doorswhere the sun never sets.

I do meet my married friends occasionally. In theoffice, on a casual walk, or in a busy restaurant.They are my friends still. And they are still friendlyas much as their new lifestyle and addedresponsibilities permit.

But... Oh heck, there's my telephone. I think it ismy real-estate agent again.

--~ The Bachelor

பி.கு.: இதை அப்படியே சாரம் மாறாமல் தமிழில் மொழிபெயர்ப்பவர்களுக்கு மேல்Kind சார்பில் ஒரு பரிசு (கொள்ளு அல்லது தவிடு மூட்டை) தரப்படும். யாராவது...?