McShaadi — Families of suitable girls discover fast food joints

A typical scenario reveals a happy eightsome comfortably seated at tables joined together — the bindi-bangled Pinki (our damsel in considerable distress) managing to look suitably coy, while our suitable boy made ever so noticeable by his immaculate suit and tie not to mention that Amriikan drawl. Pinky’s father plays the impeccable host. `Kuch to lo ji‘, he urges.

They break the ice with a round of Cokes and sip seriously (tracing genealogies is, after all, serious business) until Pinki’s brother, that hapless but useful-to-have-around adolescent, is sent scurrying off to buy the pijjas (pizzas) and aloo-tikki Mcburgers from the self-help counter.

Discreet belches of content — the prospective in-laws are satisfied with the family — later, the stage is set for Pinki and her hoped-for beau to meet and talk, alone. The `progressive’ families are quick to give their consent for this ritual and equally quick to huddle towards one end of the table. At the other end, the talks progress.

So what does one say to a total stranger, that too in the presence of so many prying eyes? Weather is passe. And the NRI ABCD (American Born Confused Desi) does not understand Bharatiya cinema. So it turns to a discourse on the varieties of cheeses available `outside’ — the guy, of course, doing the entire talking. He looks at the mozarella-/cheddar-coated offerings in his tray and grimaces. The girl sinks a little more into her chair, until things move to pleasanter topics. And, finally, the success of the talks can be gauged (not just by the interested families but also the by now interested co-eaters) by whether the guy shares his fries with the girl! If he does, we can distinctly hear the wedding bells jangle. If he doesn’t, well, nothing lost. An expensive trip down to the Hayat (Hyatt) has been saved.

The last may be just the most important factor contributing to the increasing popularity of Dilli’s friendly pizza/burger joints as the most happening `girl-seeing’ places in town. Like Ajita Sharma (name changed), working with a travel agency, says, “I met my would-be husband at Cafe 100. My father had fixed up a match and it was left to us to meet and decide. He came and picked me up from my office and we went down to Cafe 100 for a chat that turned out to be a two-hour date. At home, such an interaction would just not have been possible.”

It is not just couples, the entire clan prefers the anonymity of the restaurants over their homes even if the cost is a little higher. Traditionally held at relatives’ or neighbours’ homes, the `seeing’ ritual for an average middle-class, nuclear family has now been pushed to the domain of casual eating places like McDonald’s and Nirula’s, not to mention Dilli Haat.