Now I know what it feels like...

More often than not, when the maapilais (sons-in-law) of our house come visiting, I used to have quite a lot of fun at their expense looking at the royal treatment they would get from their in-laws, i.e., my folks. Mind you, my sisters did not approve of the said treatment, but they got it anyway.

The memory is as fresh as can be, when Sri, my second athimbere (I've never called him that), came home soon after his marriage to my sister, he was left totally pink faced with the treatment he received from my parents, something that had me in splits for hours on end. Little did I know that one day, I would be sailing in that same boat!

In order to put things in perspective, I must digress and tell you a bit about myself. I am a person who does not know what it is to be respected. I was trodden over by friends and juniors in school, am the youngest in my family and when my sisters gave birth to 1,2 and eventually 3 bundles of joy, who are also referred to as my nieces and nephew, they refused to give me any respect. Let me put it this way, the doormat in my house has seen better days than me. That's not to say I'm not loved, I know they adore me and I love them all to bits, but there's no respect.

So take a bloke who has never been treated with respect, add a pinch of the title "son-in-law" - where you get truck-loads of respect and you get the perfect formula for being pink faced.

Right from the time I went for the "ponnu pakkara padalam" to date, I have been treated like some kind of god by people from my wife's side. They wouldn't sit on a chair in front of me, they would refer to me with various titles from "Saar" to "Maapilai" with tonnes of "neenga", "vanga", "ponga" etc., thrown in for good measure.

The way South Indians eat food is well known, but nothing prepared me for what comes when you are served by your in-laws. If ever there was a time when no one listened to what I said, it was when I said enough to food. I'd have to do a fair bit of planning just stop eating food when I was overfull as opposed to splitting at the seams (eating the right amount was not an option). For example, if dosas were on the menu, I would have to time it perfectly and start grumbling about how full I am around the 4th dosa (any sooner and they see right through the plan, any later and its too late) and I can finally stop eating around the 9th.

After the wedding, whenever I went out, there would be a car waiting to whisk me away to wherever I wanted, maapilai shouldn't walk, you see!

Another memorable incident is at the temple in Chidambaram. Apparently, it was some special puja day when we visited and the temple was packed to around 10 times over its capacity. We squeezed in and I prepared myself for a long, sticky wait to get a glimpse of the deity. AS it turns out, the temple chief pujari is the father of my wife's friend and when he knew who I was, we were taken right through the crowd into the shrine, with a special archanai thrown in on the house (or temple)!

After much cajoling, I have managed to convince (although with limited success) close relatives of my wife to stop treating me like god and have given up trying to achieve any kind of normality with other relatives. I just have to let things be and get on with life, can't let this get to my head because, after all the royal treatment, when I get back to my house, my nieces are going to treat me like dirt...