When G, my friend, informed me he was getting married in Kathmandu, my first reaction was “Followed by a reception in Hyderabad?” I couldn’t see myself jetting off to Kathmandu to attend a wedding where the only person I knew was the groom. A lot of emotional blackmail later that was exactly what I was doing. In turn, I pressured my mother into accompanying me, so I’d have at least one person to talk to while G was busy getting married.
The sniffles started while we were in transit in Delhi airport. I put it down to my frequent allergy attacks and popped an antihistamine thinking I’ll be just fine by the time we landed in Kathmandu. I wasn’t.
I got off that plane congested, sniffly and with a faint wheeze. G received us and we set off for the hotel. The chill in the air was just starting to register. I’m a South Indian who lives in a city which has approximately 2.8 days of winter and I realized the warm clothes I’d packed were going to be woefully inadequate. Very cute but inadequate.
We were just settling into our hotel room when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find G’s brother, W, on the other side.
“Hi. I’m Warren.” He said.
I promptly sneezed in his face.
He looked more than a little surprised as he mopped at his face and tried again. “Remember me?”
And I said those famous words. “My God. Look at you.”
If there was ever a famous facepalm moment, it would be this one. In hindsight of course. At that moment, I assumed I’d never see him again after the wedding was over. It’s my only excuse for what happened next. I reached across to give him a hug and sneezed in his ear.