Everyday Life Comedy. Weddings – Drama, Naagin Dances and Embarrassments

I’m limiting myself to middle class India here.

Attended any Indian weddings? A colourful and lively affair, yes?

Our weddings have everything – melodrama that surpasses anything that Ekta Kapoor can conjure, ear splitting music and embarrassing relatives. There is the jarring shehnai competing with, and losing to, disco jhankaar beats. There are drooping ice sculptures, wasted food and endless mind-numbing rituals. The only redeeming (or comic) feature, are the ‘naagin’ (cobra) dances by pot-bellied uncles.

Overall, weddings have everything other than fun. Especially for two sets of people. One – the bride and the groom, and, two – the ‘ladki waale’ (the bride’s side). (Oh wait. That makes up 50% of the crowd!). The former two souls are zonked after hectic weeks of shopping, pre wedding preparations and serious deliberations on complicated issues such as which way should the saree be draped. (No, it is not limited to Gujarati and Bengali styles. There is the Madisaru, the Belt and the Fishcut styles among others) The latter are zonked after trying to cater for every whim of the ladke waale (the groom’s side), endless discussions on expenses and parrying advice from well-meaning acquaintances.

Come the big day therefore, both sets of people are essentially zombies. To add to their misery, our priests seem to revel in choosing the H hour for the ‘mahurat’ based purely on maximum inconvenience – they generally favour 0500 hrs or if in a benevolent mood, 0615 hrs.  You will understand therefore, why most middle-class Indian weddings are quite unlike those shown in Yash Chopra movies. There is no giddy gaggle of giggly girls gliding gracefully down elaborately decorated staircases; just crazed and cranky parents. There are no happy relatives singing joyously as they help put up floral decorations; just sweaty helpers. There are no beautifully choreographed dances; just portly aunties singing what sound like nasal dirges.

And have you noticed how every wedding will have one elderly chacha/mama/tau who is for some reason, unhappy? Maybe he wasn’t accorded due importance, maybe his invitation did not read seh-parivar (with family), or maybe he is just suffering from constipation. Whatever be the reason, his sole aim is to make everyone else miserable. He is the one who will always be sullen faced, criticise everything and look disdainfully at the buffet even as the seventh gulab jamun slides down his oesophagus.

Unlike say a Christian or a Sikh wedding which is solemn, decorous, dignified, (and hence boring), Hindu weddings are a delightful cacophony of sounds, colours and mayhem. Peculiarly, the guests having taken all the trouble to dress and come to the venue, show little interest in the ceremony per se. They look at weddings primarily as an avenue for catching up on gossip with other relatives; while looking on proudly as their children create havoc with the decorations.  Teenage guests dread that moment when a IIT or GRE cleared cousin makes his/her grand entry. On sighting one, they studiously avoid making eye contact with their parents, else, they will surely be encouraged to seek advice from the super achiever.

On the whole thus, no one, I repeat no one, seems to actually enjoy the wedding. Most invitees look bored and seem to be hanging on gamely only till the food is served. It is not uncommon therefore that the total number of witnesses to the ceremony in a crowd of say 600 people, are seven closest relatives/friends of the groom and bride; not necessarily out of choice. The rest of the guests would be busy multi-tasking; wolfing away at the dinner tables while simultaneously criticising the food, decorations, bride’s outfit, groom’s character, everything. If you thought the ‘Master Chef’ judges or Simon Cowell are rude, you clearly have not come across Indian guests.

When and if they can tear themselves away from the food tables their interaction with the groom/bride, is mostly limited to – “So when is the good news?” (wink-wink nudge- nudge). Just imagine the bride/groom having to answer this question and then pose for photographs with people, 99% of whom are strangers. Some aunties intriguingly choose this very moment to play 20 questions  – “Remember me?”, adding thoughtfully for the benefit of the bride, “Mere saamne yeh nanga ghooma karta tha” (I have seen this guy naked as a kid).

That Indian weddings (actually weddings anywhere) put a severe financial and mental strain on the parents of the bride is well known. In many instances the boorish behaviour of the ladke waale only adds to their suffering. Let me assure you however, that it is not smooth sailing for the boy/boy’s side too.

In my of my previous posts, here, I had alluded to a groom who got severely thrashed by the ladki waale for hiding the fact that he was bald. On another occasion the groom’s side demanded a particular chicken dish assuming erroneously that their every whim (being conditioned so by society) would be honoured. To their utter surprise (and I have no reason to disbelieve The Hindustan Times) they were sent packing after being served not chicken, but a sound ego deflating thrashing. 

And then the poor grooms, and here I sympathise with them entirely, must undergo the entire ceremony, sober; cause most Indian weddings (though these trends are changing) are good advertisements for the Gujarat/Bihar prohibition policy. (Of course, just as with all such policies, liquor is freely available if one knows where to look. Hint – just look out for an uncle stepping out from behind a curtain; looking a bit wobbly but dreamy).

Being aware of the lack of resilience in his mental buildup, one enterprising groom from Bihar decided to fortify himself with the right stuff a day before his wedding. However, maybe because he had over fortified himself (and us males can sympathise with him),  or because he had underestimated the potency of the desi tharra that he had quaffed in liberal quantities, he just could not wake up on time for his Monday mahurat of 0615 hrs, even by 2100 hrs.  He did wake up on Tuesday and rushed to the venue as fast as his throbbing head could permit him (again some sympathy please), only to be shown the door by his peeved wife-to-be; but not before asking him to refund all the money spent in the preparations. For good measure, her relatives took some of the groom’s portly aunties hostage till the money was refunded.  I understand that the police had to use some deft diplomacy to defuse this hostage situation. You can read about the unembellished version here.

And heard about the other sozzled groom who, forgetting that some things are best left to pot-bellied uncles, decided to impress his bride with his one superpower, the ‘naagin’ dance? Hearing a particularly foot tapping song by the ‘Jai Mata Di Orchestra’ he got a bit carried away. So here he was in his sherwani and sehra, hands cupped imitating a hooded cobra, tongue out, writhing on his back on the road in his best imitation of the naagin dance. Imagine his consternation when his bride, instead of simpering coyly, bolted the entrance of the venue and beat a hasty homeward run via the back door.

A reporter on the scene philosophised thus – Don’t groove if you don’t have the move.