Madam, I’m not Adam

A couple of weeks ago I was sitting with the type-setter at the wedding card shop finalising the typography on my personal wedding card. Half-way through deciding on the type size, the computer operator stopped short, read the entire content back and forth and turned to me. Neither could she withhold her confused expression nor her tongue. I wondered what was so shocking. I read and re-read it. Did she find anything unprintable? Nah!

“Madam, personal card’aa?”, she interrupts my thought train.
“Aamam.” (Yes.)
“Ungaloda ?” (Yours ?)
“Aamam.”
“Appo, ponnu peru?” (Bride’s name?)
Oh! So she has figured out the groom’s name. Pankaj has started laughing already. When the joke is on me, it’s always convenient, isn’t it?

How difficult is it to follow that the other name on the card has to be of the girl? Gotcha! Rajani cannot be a girl! That’s her problem. Does she think this is a gay marriage? I hope not. For her own benefit. I don’t think this religious-looking, deep-in-tradition woman would have the stomach for it.

But I’m learning to enjoy these @#$%^& ideas. I used to get irritated. But of late, I’m highly amused as to how people are religiously bent to making me male. I refuse to give up.

PS: As per Citibank credit cards department, I’m “Madam Mr. Rajani Nair”.