My Aunt’s
Wedding
Come May-June-July
and the wedding season is all upon us in all its wealthy splendor splashing a
rainbow of gold & silver, red & orange, pink & purple & hues of
green. A few days back we were invited to one such society event which would
aptly be called “the big fat Indian wedding” (sorry for the cliché`). The
invite (its passé to call it invitation)came in a purple and gold box with a
gilt-edged lining tied with a gold ribbon containing color coded invitations
for the various programs that would stretch over a full five days starting with
sangeet and the last grand finale, the reception. Each invitation was sealed
with a gold seal that had the initials of the super-rich parents and a gold signature
for the personal touch. Green invite was for the mehendi with the dress theme
to match, red for the sangeet, cream for the wedding and purple and gold for
the reception that was to be held in the ball room of a 7-star hotel which
could accommodate a couple of thousand guests expected to attend. The
invitation for the special “hen” party meant only for the under-25 girls(above
18 , I think?) was printed in psychedelic colors that had the insignia of a
famous neo-artiste known for his abstract work(read, indelible) to be held at
an undisclosed destination with an undisclosed itinerary. Knowing vaguely about
such do’s I could only thank my advancing age for sparing me the orgy (some
advantage of growing old).
The “sangeet”
preparations had begun a month earlier when a famous Bollywood(our eternal
Indian fixation) choreographer, now out of work, was hired to train the bride,
groom ,their parents and friends all the steps of popular wedding songs that
had made a Madhuri or a Kareena famous. Suffice to say, the girls were happily
learning the dance intricacies under the able tutelage of a diamond stud
sporting caricature dressed in lime green shirt and tight pink pants. Lehengas
for this occasion were ordered from a special boutique and the bride wore a
Svarvoski studded lehenga, just like “Aish’s”! (there we go again). Even the
groom had a made-to-order dress –yes, you guessed it right. Just like SRK’s.
The sangeet
started with the mandatory popping of the finest bubbly which opened the bar
from where flowed the choicest single malts and French wines and was soon
besieged by the men folk. The women and children merrily clapped to dances
including the one by the groom who seemed to have two left feet and the parents
whose bellies shook more than their legs. I was blissfully sipping on my orange
juice laced with vodka and surreptitiously handed over to me by husband dear!
The sangeet extended in to the mehendi where artistes trained to decorate fair
manicured starry palms (what else?) drew intricate designs on all the feminine
palms, albeit for a hefty fee. The proud parents beamed at the extravaganza
thanking the wedding planners for a ceremony fit for a princess!
I have by
now exhausted my repertoire of adjectives but can’t help describing the
grandest of all, the wedding reception. Attired in gold and red designer
lehenga, the bride looked every inch the princess she was meant to be. Gold and
diamond jewelry stretched from neck to waist making me wonder how she could
smile so sweetly with all that weight around her neck. But then no girl ever
gets bogged down by the weight of gold! A long queue of Armani suits and
brocade silks waited to bless the couple while the others milled around what
appeared to me as the world palate. Stalls of Continental jostled around
Punjabi food. Chinese counters competed with Thai and Mexican stole attention
from Lebanese. Desserts of all continents including an array of special Indian
sweets topped the long lines of guests. The wedding planners had left nothing
to chance and it was, to use a cliché “an affair to remember”.
As the
wealthy world whirled around me I was transported back 40 years to another
wedding that took place in my grand-mother’s front-yard and holds a special
place in my heart. My Aunt’s wedding! As a ten year old I had watched in
amazement as my Grand- mother and Mom took charge of the wedding preparation of
the younger daughter as soon as the “boy’s side” confirmed her acceptance as
their daughter-in-law and decided on the date. After a brief celebration of
feeding pedhas to one-another, the ladies in the house got down to preparing
the list of work to be done, guests to be invited, letters to close relatives,
trousseau to be finalized, sarees for the close female relatives and jewelry for the bride. Each elderin the family was
handed over one responsibility and one small note book to jot down the work to
do, guests to be invited, letters to be sent so that far off relatives could
plan and book tickets well in advance. The men folk were entrusted the work of
hiring the maharaj for cooking the wedding meals, arrange for the decorative
shamiyana in the front yard where the wedding would be held, and the invitation
card which was a simple white and gold card that said, “with blessings of Lord
Ganesh, we invite you……………”. The women busied themselves with planning the food
menu which consisted of simple Mahartastrian wholesome delicious food and the
mandatory saffron “jalebi”, packets of savory and sweets for all those who
would attend and a list of gifts for the groom’s family. The back yard of the
house was converted into a make-shift kitchen where after a small puja, began
the preparation of wedding savories and sweets. The women sat around huge trays
of golden pearls and rolled them into sweet laddoos as they laughed and teased
the bride. The younger girls were assigned the duty of counting the laddoos and
packing them for distribution. There was laughter and joy, energy and activity all
day long. The house seemed magical, with so much of happiness around, milling
with people working, talking, eating and making merry. As the D-day arrived the
house turned into Cindrella’s castle with fairy lights all over the place,
fragrant jasmine and mogra flowers wafting from all corners and the front yard
bedecked with golden globes of marigold interspersed with the pious mango
leaves. The wedding ceremony lasted for just two main events, one when the
groom’s family was officially introduced to the bride’s family on the eve of
marriage and the next morning when my Aunt got tied in the holy matrimonial
bond amidst chanting of Vedic mantras and copious tears from grand-ma and Mom’s
eyes. The grand lunch had everyone sitting on the floor with the women in heavy
silk sarees serving all the guests with loads of love and urging them to eat
more. The whole place was filled with much laughter and bonhomie and it was
hard to believe that the groom’s family had just met mine!
It was then time
for my Aunt to move on from her home of 22 years to a completely new home, new
people who would now be her own, new life, new adjustments, new relationships, and
new responsibilities. Grand-ma and Mom suddenly seemed to have lost nerve and I
could see them clinging on to the bride, crying, laughing, worrying, and putting
up a brave face to bid her a happy farewell. There were tears all over and to
my tiny mind it seemed ridiculous that such a happy occasion mandated for so
much crying. I was too small to know the change that comes over with marriage.
Needless to say, I found out why many years later.
As I broke
off my reverie, standing in the perfectly planned super event that I had just
witnessed, I noticed that the bride was about to leave for her new home.
Copious tears began to flow with tight embraces from the heart-broken parents.
I smiled to myself. Well at least something hadn’t changed!
