THE BIG FAT INDIAN WEDDING

 

THE BIG FAT INDIAN WEDDING

They say…. Marriages are made in Heaven. Hell yes(may be)! Hold on…. The Weddings, however, happen very much on the Earth. And they are blessed by the mortal Gods, themselves… the Event Managers. Oh yes, you read it right. They are the self-proclaimed know-it-all of what we want. Right from the dramatic pre-wedding shoots to the innovative e-invitation cards to the creative thank-you-for-coming goodie bags… the whole jamboree has definitely come a long way. 

After the long Covid gap, I had the glorious opportunity to attend a few festivities this wedding season. Between hubby and me, we attended eight weddings in all - Right from Down South Bangalore to Up North Mathura Vrindavan, via our hometown. Boy, did we have fun!! Nothing like weeks of preparations, shopping for everything from the intricate jewellery to the humble jootis, several successful and unsuccessful attempts at losing weight before the D-day, decking up, food, music, modified rituals suiting our contemporary lifestyle, meeting relatives and friends, the whole shebang.

My journey began with paying for 6kgs extra luggage weight at the check-in counter at 4am. Yes, it hurt. Coz that also meant that I couldn’t shop for anything at all throughout my trip, much to the delight of hubby dear. I shouldn’t have carried the 5 just-in-case dresses - was my first thought.

Reaching the venue, unpacking and making myself comfortable for the next 5 days was all done. First in line was the quintessential mehendi. The extremely talented mehendi ladies had their own set of rigid rules, which we had to abide by. However, they were open to Insta and Pinterest suggestions. The wait was definitely worth it.

There were a few other significant stand-outs during the various weddings. The woes of strutting around in the heels, whole day. They could be killing us, but a woman gotta wear them… that’s the rule. The 32 intact smile was always plastered on. It was literally the case of: Only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches.

Drying out the necessary but time-consuming nail-polish, matching with every change of dress…. it is a very practical problem, you see. You wanna finish a hundred jobs in those precise five minutes. But, no…. you gotta sit there, frustrated, while handing out fruitless instructions to the rest of the family, with that damn wet nail-polish on.

There was the added pressure to be dressed uniquely. Unplanned twinning, even if it is the same shade, amongst girls is a crime, whereas boys can become best buddies with their random dress twins at any function. 

The parlour lady was the most sought-after personality. ‘Didi, mujhe natural look hi dena. Please foundation heavy nahi karna.’ She must have heard this umpteen number of times in her life, while rolling her eyes.

‘Didi, sirf hairstyle kar do.’

‘Only sari mein pin lagaa do.’

‘Could you just do the winged eye-liner for me. Rest all I can manage by myself.’

Only this, Only woh. Poor girl. 

I have literally seen and relished every tempting dish from every possible cuisine possible, in the last one week. The humble, colourful salads looked so meagre in front of the rest of the lavish spread. We would begin with it, to prove a point to ourselves. A healthy point. But each time, the rich bright gravies would win over. The very cunning dahi-wadas and paneer tikkas and corn cheese balls would automatically find their way in our over-crowded plates. There were the delectable desserts laid out in all possible treacherous presentations. It was very tough to choose between calories and taste-buds. We all know which side won the brownie points, literally too. I was always the part of the self-appointed recommendation gang, handing out tips on what not to miss from the huge spread. And I took my job very seriously. I came back with a half-hearted promise of staying away from all sweets for a month. Hey, wait, is that halwa I see?

The cute little rituals of hiding the groom’s footwear by the SIL brigade or pulling the groom’s nose by the MIL, the bahus and betis singing the melodious traditional geet on every occasion like an adorable Sooraj Barjatya movie, the shower of love in the form of force-feeding sweets to one another, the groom arriving on the mare while the gorgeous, confident, new-age bride arriving dreamily in a vintage car, the Sangeet filled with extraordinary performances by the emotional yet exuberant folks, Panditji explaining the seven promises and all sheepishly waiting for the groom to commit to them…. The Indian Weddings are nothing short of a complete shindig.

The music plays an integral part at any Indian wedding. Ranging from the classical shehnaai-tabla to the dhol to the live band to the current trend Mera Dil Yeh Pukaare Aajaa remix…. we sportingly shook a leg to them all. Indian music is so rich and varied. There is something relevant, for one and all. 

Then comes the most gratifying part of such events…. Clicking memories on our phones and everybody’s phones. It is almost like that is the culmination point of it all. Proof of how much we have spent on the entire ensemble. The sole purpose of our existence in the universe, at that moment, is to get enough DP material for at least a few months. It begins with selfies and ends up in loud groupies, all scrambling to be seen in the frame! Accommodating oneself in such impromptu pictures is quite an acquired skill.

So then, why not leave the job to the experts??? After all, they come with a crew that will put even the big shots to shame. They are the ones who literally hog the limelight. They are the ones who get the balcony seats in any event. They have the undisputed power to move all the relatives away to capture the on-goings. They are the ones who actually witness the ceremonies. From close angles. All we get to see is their backs. I did try to come on my toes and peeped from around them. But in vain. I believe that by now, they have become experts in all the rituals and might be able to conduct shaadis and mundans and goad-bharaais, all by themselves.

The camera crew are prolly the only ones, other than the pricey groom side, who can defy the saintly Panditji. The Panditji is made to pause at that very moment when the ghee  is being poured into the roaring Hawan… oh what a beautiful click he has managed! We will get to see it all, albeit in the pictures and videos. After a month’s wait. All said and done, the gorgeous pictures and the candids and the emotions captured… make it all worth it. And they are already trying their hands at the drone, too. That will be interesting to see. 

Well, now I am back to reality, from the fairy tale weddings. Now spending time catching glimpses of those events on WhatsApp status and Insta story and FB daily, from somebody or the other in the group and reminiscing about the fun days which I spent without the kids and hubby. Back with extra pounds, which are, again, totally worth it as it is almost time for that evasive New Year’s Resolution! Back with the knowledge of the importance of the humble safety pin. Back with sore throat… boy, how we sang and screamed our lungs out. Back with a huge pile of laundry. Back with a list of prospective grooms and brides, who have no idea that we are poking our noses into their business. Back with a truckload of gorgeous memories, to be cherished till the next wedding.

Do share your fun and unique experiences at the weddings that you have been attending. I have been witnessing loads of fun action on your status and stories, too! Cheers to the BIG FAT INDIAN WEDDING. Keep those bags ready, folks, for the next wedding.