Cross cultural weddings are great for national integration, but hell on the nerves of the protagonists.
A brother bong, frolicking in our national capital under the guise of pursuing our national pastime of trying to infiltrate the ranks of the Civil Servants-, our rather uncivil masters,- was pursuing far more attractive interests, and succeeded in lassoing a lissome lass from the land of the sunheri sarson ki khet.
The pursued Punjaban pledged her next seven lives to this bespectacled Bong, subject to ratification from higher authorities, in this case her six foot dad.
Our brave bong was undeterred, and using diplomacy reminiscent of the King Khan in DDLJ, acquired the said blessings. His trials and tribulations during the process can be glossed over, as everyone who has seen Vicky Donor will get the gist.
Finally the great day arrived, and the requisite banquet hall was hired, decorators caterers…
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