The Momma Clan

The debate stage was set at Pune’s bustling JW Marriott ballroom, converted into a live studio for the hit show India Speaks. The audience buzzed with anticipation as the two panelists, seemingly from different planets, sat across each other.

On one side was Aditi Iyer, Chennai’s renowned divorce lawyer, known for her unflinching stance against marriage. She adjusted her black blazer, her face calm but her eyes sharp, ready to dismantle romantic illusions. Opposite her sat Pratik Pusadkar, Pune’s celebrated wedding planner, with a relaxed posture and a disarming smile.

The moderator introduced them: “Tonight, we discuss a question that divides modern India—Is Marriage Still Relevant? Representing the ‘pro’ side, we have Mr. Pratik Pusadkar, the man behind Pune’s grandest weddings. And opposing him, Ms. Iyer, who believes marriage is nothing more than a legal trap.”

“Marriage,” Pratik started, his tone warm and measured, “is the ultimate act of hope. It’s about two people choosing to build a life together, despite knowing it won’t be perfect.”

Aditi’s smirk was as sharp as her words. “Hope? Mr. Pusadkar, in my line of work, I’ve seen hope turn to despair. Marriage isn’t an act of love; it’s an act of control, often masquerading as tradition.”

The audience murmured. Pratik leaned forward, his smile unwavering. “Perhaps you’ve only seen the broken marriages, Ms. Iyer. But for every divorce, there are countless couples who thrive together.”

“Thrive?” Aditi countered. “Or survive, bound by societal expectations and fear of failure? Love doesn’t need legal binding, Mr. Pusadkar. It’s enough on its own.”

The debate raged on, both voices passionate but worlds apart, until a commercial break offered a pause.

—

During the break, a producer hurried onto the stage. “We just got a caller challenge,” he said, excitement evident. “What if you two worked together? Plan a wedding, prove if your ideologies can coexist.”

Pratik chuckled, clearly intrigued. “I’m game,” he said, turning to Aditi.

She scoffed. “A wedding? With you? Absolutely not.”

“Afraid you’ll enjoy it?” Pratik teased, his grin maddeningly confident.

The audience laughed. Aditi glared at him, then sighed. “Fine. But don’t expect me to compromise on reality.”

The Challenge

Their first meeting took place at Vohuman Café, an iconic breakfast spot in Pune known for its Irani chai. Aditi arrived early, armed with spreadsheets and a no-nonsense attitude. Pratik strolled in late, carrying a box of macarons.

“Macarons?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He placed them on the table with a grin. “A peace offering. Weddings need sweetness, don’t you think?”

Ignoring the gesture, Aditi opened her laptop. “The bride wants simplicity. I suggest The Westin. Minimalistic décor, no unnecessary frills.”

Pratik leaned back, feigning horror. “Minimalistic? Aditi, this isn’t a board meeting. Weddings are about celebration, emotion! Empress Garden—open air, marigold garlands, live music.”

She gave him a deadpan look. “Marigolds? How original.”

“And spreadsheets for a wedding?” he retorted. “How romantic.”

Despite their bickering, they began planning. Over the weeks, their clashes turned into something resembling camaraderie.

One evening, they met at Vaishali, the legendary restaurant on FC Road, to finalize the playlist. The air was thick with the aroma of filter coffee and the chatter of diners.

“Why weddings?” Aditi asked, surprising herself with the question.

Pratik’s usual grin faltered. “Because I’ve seen what love can do, even if it’s fleeting. My fiancée left me five years ago, just days before our wedding. But instead of giving up on love, I decided to help others celebrate it.”

Aditi’s sharp exterior softened. “That must’ve been… difficult.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But it taught me resilience. What about you? Why do you fight so hard against marriage?”

She hesitated before replying, “My parents had a toxic marriage. They stayed together for appearances, but it was suffocating. I promised myself I’d never be trapped like that.”

For the first time, silence stretched between them, not awkward but understanding.

The wedding venue at Empress Garden was breathtaking—Pratik’s vision of marigold garlands and fairy lights blended seamlessly with Aditi’s minimalistic touch. But minutes before the ceremony, disaster struck: the bride locked herself in her room, panicking.

Pratik knocked on the door. “May we come in?”

Inside, the bride sat on the floor, her makeup smudged with tears. “What if I’m making a mistake?” she whispered. “What if this doesn’t work?”

Aditi knelt beside her. “Marriage isn’t perfect,” she said softly. “But it’s not meant to be. It’s about finding someone who’ll stand with you through the imperfections.”

Pratik added, “And it’s okay to feel scared. Love doesn’t promise easy, but it promises together. Trust that.”

The bride sniffled, nodded, and finally stepped out, the ceremony proceeding beautifully. As the couple exchanged vows, Pratik looked at Aditi, his eyes lingering.

“What?” she asked, catching his gaze.

“You’re surprisingly good at saving marriages,” he replied with a smile.

As the wedding wound down, Pratik took the mic, addressing the guests.

“This wedding wouldn’t have happened without Aditi,” he began, his voice steady. “She taught me that love isn’t about perfection—it’s about resilience and honesty. So, Aditi, will you let me prove that marriage can be more than a trap?”

The crowd gasped. Aditi froze, her usual composure faltering.

“Pratik Pusadkar,” she said, walking up to him, “you’re either very brave or completely ridiculous.”

He grinned. “Is that a yes?”

She smirked. “It’s a maybe. But I’m willing to find out.”

And as the audience erupted in applause, Aditi and Pratik shook hands—two opposites agreeing to build something uniquely their own.

Sometimes, the best partnerships are forged in the fiercest debates.

Right?

-Dr (HC)Prachetan Potadar