How I Met Your Father (Part 2 & 3 Combined)

Shaila and Nico,

Thanks for sticking with things over the past few days as I have taken a breather from writing out the story about how your good old dad and I met so long ago. I am guessing you already read Part 1.

You know - I was going to write this in three parts, but I am getting sick of things dragging on longer than necessary. 2010 was the year I was pissed to learn that Harry Potter and those blasted "Deathly Hallows" would have to come out in TWO different movies and that that 4th book in the godforsaken Twilight series would also be split into two installments.

Not that I watch that or anything.

But IF I did, I would have to say Team Jacob. Can you really blame me?

So I said, "Enough of that!" Besides, I only expect that I have your attention span for so long, so I am gonna use this time wisely.

Revisiting Part 1 of this letter

It's true that I had many conversations with your Nana and Nani about why I would not have an arranged marriage. My father pretty much gave up after a certain point, though I am sure he doubted my ability to ever find the right man for me. However, after a certain point, they did relent.

Granted, this was after a few torturous years. My first boyfriend EVER, a nice man by the name of Michael, bore the brunt of your Nana and Nani's wrath as they struggled with the idea that I would probably NEVER have an arranged marriage. He was a really great guy and he tried really, REALLY hard, but Nana and Nani played it really tough with him.

Like, they would glare at him. And give him the silent treatment. And throw samosas at him.

Ok, ok, they never did that. But I mean, it was BAD.

Over the years though, they loosened up a bit, and even warmed up to some of my asshole ex-boyfriends who probably didn't warrant any of their respect. (But that is for another day). And I am assuming that by the time you read this, you will have heard me say asshole at least at some point in your life, so please forgive the profanity.

The Truth

The "truth" of how I met your father is the following. In our late twenties, we were very self-aware individuals and chose to spend much of our own free time doing things like going to the library, attending poetry readings, watching classical musicians perform and visiting museums. Both avid athletes, many of our nights were spent at the gym or doing team activities.

D.C. was such an inspiring place to live if you could appreciate the full extent of the culture that was available.

It's actually a wonder that our paths didn't cross before. We even volunteered at the same soup kitchen! But for some reason, it was always on alternating nights!

It was like some kind of "sliding doors" thing except for the fact that, well . . . I'm not tall OR blonde OR Gwyneth Paltrow. (although we do both play guitar . . .)

So anyway, one day I decided to attend a special exhibit at the Corcoran Gallery. You see, for me, a life without exposure is a bland and empty existence. I was aware that others my age may have been at the bars lining up the streets of DC or clubbing in Adams Morgan.

Those types of activities were not for me. And not for your dad either.

It was an amazing exhibit on contemporary photography. I especially recall with amazing clarity these pieces by Annie Liebowitz that just blew me away.

And that's when I noticed your father. He must have noticed me admiring the piece too, so he came over and we discussed the finer points of the composition of the piece. After some more conversation, he invited me out for coffee. I agreed and that is how our courtship began.

The Rumors

But you know what? For whatever reason, despite the simplicity of my first meeting with your father, you have some aunties and uncles who remember it differently. If you ask your Aunt Sang, she has one thing to say about it (she wasn't EVEN AT the Corcoran that night) and your Uncle Craig also has mentioned a different memory. My assumption is that both John and I have some "twins" running around DC.

OR IT COULD BE that your Uncle Craig, Aunt Sang and even Auntie Roya (who oddly repeats this story as well) were more inebriated than they should have been that day.

SHAME ON THEM.

The way the rumor goes, in the late fall of 2001, and I am a little hazy on all of this, is that I had been at my friend's wedding earlier that day. Nick and Natascha's. Perhaps I drank a little at that wedding. You know, chamomile tea.

Perhaps.

So anyway, from there, Aunt Sang says I (or my twin) met her and your Aunt Tiffany for dinner in Arlington. After that we apparently went to this bar called Ozio's. Again, this is all hearsay (since I was at the Corcoran).

Well, the story goes that we get to Ozio's and it turns out that the manager and owner of the bar/restaurant had just been at Nick and Natascha's wedding. In addition, our friend Raj was bartending that night. Which also is very very odd and doesn't add up for me, because Raj was also usually very much committed to volunteer work on Saturday night, so again, this piece of fiction just seems to be fabricated out of somebody's fantasy.

Apparently people were being "festive." Drinks were consumed. In moderation of course. From what I understand, every alcoholic beverage was alternated with a refreshing beverage like guava or papaya juice or something.

Some of the members of "N Sync" showed up at the bar and your Aunt Sang says that I (my twin) yelled at the security guy as he asked everybody to move "Who the F^&k cares about them anyway? If Britney's not with them, I don't give a shit!"

But, you know that's not true, because that doesn't sound like me at all.

Right?

Aunt Tiffany says she left at that point, so cannot confirm or deny your Aunt Sang's story. According to her, we saw your father at the bar standing with your Auntie Roya and your Uncle Craig. Aunt Sang knew your dad and I knew your Auntie Roya so it ended up as a big meet and greet after the whirlwind that was "'N Sync" had been cordoned up to the VIP area.

Auntie Sang says that I brazenly (come on now? when I have I EVER been brazen? really, kids) went up to your father and said the following.

Me: "Oh my god. You are such a hot Indian guy!" (huh?)

She says that apparently your dad was really confused (of course he was confused - he was at the Corcoran exhibit - hello!?) and that he looked at me quite calmly.

John: "Uhhh . . . I'm not Indian. I'm actually half-Italian and half . . ." I (I mean, my twin) cut him off before could go any further.

Me: "Of course you're Indian! Look at you. You know, you shouldn't be ashamed of your heritage. It's really important to take pride in your roots." I told him all-knowingly, Aunt Sang reported.

I was on a roll, apparently.

Me: "So you say your name is John. Like, what's that short for? Jagdish?"

John: "Um . . . seriously. It's just John. Not Jagdish or anything . . . um . . . Indian."

Me: "Whatever." Sigh. "It doesn't really matter. Gosh my parents are going to LOVE you!" my twin exclaimed.

(Which I think would have been kind of a bunny boiler type of moment for anybody)

At this point, Aunt Sang says she was trying to just get my evil twin out of there, because she thought that kind of behavior was embarrassing. Which you know is bad if even Aunt Sang was embarrassed.

Uh - uh. Apparently not done yet.

Me: "So it was nice meeting you."

John: "It was nice meeting you too." (Yeah right, he was probably like - get me back to the Corcoran, and make it fast)

Me: "Well, you know, I have a number."

John: "Well, you know, I have a girlfriend."

OUCH.

And kids, this is the part that makes it a clincher that it was not ME, because apparently the next lines out of my impostor's mouth was:

"Well I don't see her anywhere." wink. wink.

Why, the nerve.

And your dad (ok, ok, your dad) said to me (ok the charade is up! yes, it was really me)

John: "Seriously, it was nice to meet you, but I DO have a girlfriend in California."

As luck would have it, I was fairly happy from all of the festivities that day so did not carry any eternal scars as your Aunt Sang and I made our way back to Arlington in our usual manner and probably snarfed down a pizza once we got home and passed out (but not before saying a bedtime prayer!).

Wait! So How Did it End?

A year to almost the day later, I was in Georgetown with your Auntie Roya, again doing volunteer . . . uh forget it. We were going to a new brand spanking waterfront bar that Raj (I don't know how he found the time! We all know he was committed to community work on Saturday nights!) was again tending bar.

I think it was related to charity or something.

John came up to Roya and I. They hugged and talked. Her sister was there and asked him if he was a Bollywood actor. I was a little hazy on who he was. My days at the Corcoran took up a lot of mental energy. And I had quite honestly, forgotten him, but I started recollecting that I knew him somehow . . .

John: "Do you remember meeting me at Ozio's last year?" Ahhh, it started to come back.

Me: "Oh yeah." Gosh so embarrassing. "You're the guy who won't admit he's Indian."

John: "Well, I don't have that girlfriend anymore."

Pause. I thought about it but there was only one thing to say . . .

Me: "Well go ahead and buy me a drink, Jagdish!"

And as they say, the rest is history . . . .

Craig and Sang - were even in our wedding after all those crazy rumors.

XOXO,
Kiran