Marriage is perhaps the only industry in India which never faces the threat of recession. Therefore while the BSE index and the Nifty go for a toss, while the Airlines refuse to lower the fares inspite of a massive fall in ATF prices and find no passengers, while the prices of essential items skyrocket inspite of fall in inflation figures (govt. ones of course), the Marriage season is in full bloom in India. If you look around, you will see all Hotels booked out, all caterers engaged, all rental vehicles booked in advance, musical bands booked out months in advance, massive crowds in Saree showrooms.......RECESSION !! What's that ?
Since tis the marriage season I would like to get caught in this fever and bring before you a description of a marriage ceremony and its attendant baggages. Any reader looking for some constructive ideas please desist from proceeding further. Not that the blog usually contains any constructive ideas, but let's not digress any further.
The time is 8:00 P.M in any North Indian city. It is well past the 7:00 P.M deadline indicated in the invitation card for the starting of the Baarat as it is called, but the groom is still roaming around getting ready for the Baarat. Nobody in the family is bothered about the delay since the accepted norm for the baarat to proceed in the country is at least two hours behind schedule for you do not want the bride's family to notice that the groom is too anxious to get married. Marriage after all is an extension of the game of Chess. Mind games you see, never let the opponent realize your anxiety, for then you loose the upper hand. Besides you also do not want the bride's family to be caught unawares, for the mandap for the ceremony is still half ready, the stage for the reception ceremony has fallen short of flowers and most importantly the bride is still in the beauty parlour, getting ready with layers of make up. Obviously, she needs to 'look beautiful' doesn't she ? When you live in India you follow Indian Standard Time, don't you ? Not for us the firang business of respecting time.
The only guys who are restless are the musical band guys for it is a very auspicious day for marriages and this lot has three appointments for the night. The astrologers in India ensure that certain days are declared most auspicious for marriages and getting married on this particular day apparently brings unlimited prosperity to the new couple. This is an added protection after getting the Horoscopes of the couple matched. That a majority of the marriages nowadays end up on the divorce table, is nobody's case, but since this is not a post on social issues, let us proceed. This 'auspicious' day has a particularly auspicious effect on the Pandits performing the ceremonies for they can charge exorbitant amount for the services, the same goes for the aligned sectors, musical bands, marriage houses, caterers, hotels, railways. In economics they call it the Domino effect. The musical band guys are anyway placated with assurance of extra payment and they are content.
Finally by 8:45 P.M the groom is ready and the marriage procession starts its journey towards the marriage house which is located around 1 km away. Since I am not invited to the high profile marriage parties which are held in swanky upmarket hotels I can only describe a marriage which take place in 'marriage houses' which is nothing else but a house with a lawn to hold a certain amount of people .
The procession is now on its way.
The musical band now strikes a beat with the tune "AAJ MERE YAAR KI SHAADI HAI", which is the immortal tune for all marriages. The song which was picturised on Shatrughan Sinha around 3 decades ago still remains the no. 1 spot for marriages and no North Indian marriage can be complete without it. But the purpose for which it is being played i.e the great North Indian marriage dance, fails to pick up. The friends and relatives of the groom are simply loafing around the procession. The groom apprehends disaster, "Will my marriage procession be like a funeral procession?" He mutters to himself. " Why have these idiots come ? Just to eat!" he is irritated to the hilt and calls one of his friends to his side, "Saalon khali khaane aaye ho kya? Yaad nahin tumhari shaadi mein main kitna naacha tha?" ( Have you people come to eat only? Don't you remember how much I danced in your marriages?) It appears that the groom was the resident Helen for marriages.
The friends column now begins to stir . Everybody is trying to drag the other to the dance floor it seems. But the response is not the most enthusiastic. Now the parents of the groom also start worrying about this lack of enthusiasm and start exhorting the relatives for some action of the Prabhudeva type. But the procession is most lethargic although it has occupied the major portion of the road and a traffic jam is slowly building up. In North India the govt. has by a secret order willed the entire road to marriage processions on these marriage days. These are the only days when even the cattle on the roads give up their inalienable right to roam around.
A massive traffic snarl is slowly building up behind this procession. The commuters caught in the jam start remembering the 'Maa-Behens' (mothers and sisters, another North Indian speciality) of the Baaratis. Since it is an auspicious day for marriages most of the commuters are themselves proceeding for some marriage or the other. They will themselves be blocking some road or the other very soon and will be at the receiving end of these abuses, but as long as you are the aggrieved party make the most of it.
One of the friends or cousin of the groom who is scared to death of the dancing ritual and is simply walking along with the baarat now takes over traffic management, thereby indicating his utility to this procession. This fellow makes sure that the groom and his parents notice this good samaritan act and for this purpose he manages the traffic from very near to the groom's car, all the while assuring the groom not to worry about anything. Not that the groom is worried about anything else besides the 'dancing' ritual, but even then this friend shows off his worth. That he himself becomes the target of the abuses thrown by the stranded commuters while managing the traffic is of a lesser concern to him than 'dancing'. Intermittently, he also proceeds towards the front of the baarat pretending to keep the baaratis and the musicians in a queue, so that everybody else also notices his contribution towards the well being of the baarat.
Meanwhile the fire cracker guys have started their job in earnest. Crackers, fluorescent lights are being lighted in the middle of the road. The people crossing the street take evasive actions, motorists stop to avoid the explosion and throw some more curses but what is a marriage procession without these fire crackers, guidelines of the govt. regarding noise pollution, hospitals , the sick, the elderly, be damned. After all "AAJ MERE YAAR KI SHAADI HAI".
The head of the family, usually the elder brother of the groom's father or some other elder walks proudly in front of the baarat, a shawl neatly folded and kept on his shoulder. In these days of nuclear and sub nuclear families, his importance is only nominal like the President of India, which is shown by his walking all alone, but even then he does not want to miss out on marriage food and some nominal ritual respect. Furthermore this marriage will give him an opportunity to crticise the arrangements on both ends, once he gets back home. It will be good fodder for months.
Suddenly the musical band hits jackpot with the immortal song from the movie UPKAAR, " JAHAN CHAUDI CHHATI VEERON KI" (Needs no translation). It is as if the entire brigade of friends and cousins have stepped onto a bed of nails, so vigorous is the dance movements. The marriage dance is completely different to any civilised form of dance anywhere in the world . The dancers put on a show as if there is no tomorrow, hands are flung about, some simply jump up and down, some take out their handkerchiefs and convert it into a beena of a snake charmer. Not to be left behind, some pretend to be snakes and imitate steps from Sridevi's movie Nagina . Some boisterous baaratis have by now clambered onto the shoulders of other fellow baaratis as if there is a wrestling match underway. The groom has now got a grin on his face and looks like a smug cat, the parents are also grinning from ear to ear.
The female baaratis have now been exhorted into action. But their dance steps are more routine and less vigorous for obvious reasons. Their dance ritual their forming a circle and lifting their hands together while moving around an imaginary circle. It is more of a refined "RING- A - RING-A-ROSES", but hey anything goes!! Some of the more healthy ones (Healthy as in highly overweight) join in by simply clapping their hands in encouragement. They are the female counterparts of our friend who is still managing the traffic and pretending to be overworked.
The Party has just started.
The traffic has by now come to a grinding halt, since these dance rituals ensure that a snail could outsprint this procession. But this is how it is supposed to be, isn't it? There is an ambulance with its sirens blaring, some fool had to fall ill today only. But like true sanskari Indian baaratis, the baarat refuses to give way. Maybe they are doing this guy a favour, for he will face hell at the hands of the doctor and his diagnosis and its accompanying paraphernalia which is modern medical science, so why not go to hell straightaway and save yourself the bother?
The baarat after nearly two hours of struggle nears the venue of the marriage. The bride is in the meanwhile getting herself recorded from various angles by the video photographer. It is mostly the profile of her in her bridal finery. This shot is mostly seen in the marriage C.D's in the form of 4 images of the bride juxtaposed around each other with stars all around and the song "EK LADKI KO DEKHA TO AISA LAGA". The great late R.D.Burman must be cursing himself for creating this song.
Anyway, the baaratis then spot the family of the bride waiting to receive them and all hell breaks loose. It is as if they have stepped onto a live electric wire after taking a bath. The dancing motions ( if you can call them that) increase in their ferocity and the movement of the baarat stops completely. It appears that their lives will end the moment they stop dancing, even Hema Malini was not dancing so desperately when Viroo was chained before Gabbar Singh. But this is the final frontier, so make it count.
The movement of the baarat has come to a complete halt.
Inspite of repeated requests of both the brides and the grooms father, the friends and cousins refuse to move forward and carry on with their aerobic exercises, oops... dancing. Every dancer seems to be pushing the other one around, so vigorous is the throwing up off hands. The musical band is playing all the songs in its repertoire for now money is being thrown around by various assortments of uncles of the groom. A baarat is a place where people who haggle for two ruppes with a rickshawaalah throw hundreds of rupees in the air without a care in the world.
Finally the dancers get physically exhausted and troop into the marriage hall to let the real proceedings begin. The marriage is now running around four hours behind schedule, but for us Indians who talk of a heritage of thousands of years and believe in Yugas which consist of millions of years, it is like one Nano drop in the ocean.
The groom is now sitting atop his 'throne' on the reception dais, surrounded by friends who have by now started ogling at the females present on the brides side. This is the courting time and it is no holds barred, whoever can first strike a conversation immediately leaves his friends behind for now these 'ruffians' (you cannot call them friends in front of females) now only have a nuisance value.
The next step in the marriage is the ceremony of garlanding of each other by the bride and the groom or the 'Jaymaal' as it is called. It is the most macho of ceremony for the groom for he refuses to bow down his head for the garlanding by the bride in an act of one upmanship, duly egged on by his friends. At times the bride has to be physically lifted to garland the groom amidst much clapping. The groom pays for this act for stupidity and buffoonery by bowing his head throughout the remainder of his life before his wife. So much so for macho man.
Now the photography session is formally inagurated on the reception dais . Everyone clambers onto the stage and surround the would-be-couple for a snap and if fortunate enough, for video photography. Not everyone gets his mug recorded by the cameraman, which is reserved for the special few. Anyway the photgraphs have a special pattern , the elderly stand in an Aashirwaad (blessing) giving posture, the friends surround the stage as if they have just won a sporting event, some even raise their fingers in the ubiquitous V sign, why..... well nobody knows, but that is the way it happens.
The carpets used on the ramp to the stage are so worn out from use that they defy the law of friction. People on the way up, especially females with their fashionable high heels cannot get a good grip on the carpet and feel a sliding motion, as if the earth is slipping beneath. But the risk of embarrassment due to falling in front of so many people makes them focus even harder, and they somehow manage to reach the summit. Human minds can do the impossible when under duress, and this definitely is one of them.
The food session is one of the best and most awaited events in the marriage. Most of the people are here for the food only, not necessarily for the sake of food but for criticising it, for the moment they step out of the marriage venue they start cribbing, "Accha nahin tha, is se accha to Sharmaji ke yaahan tha, samay barbad hua," ( Food was better and Sharmaji's place, what a waste of time). That they have hogged like a pig and that they said the same at Sharmaji's marriage, is well.. a matter of detail only. Since we Indians have given up on the communal system of feeding at marriages (not the secular-communal, you fools, but the communal where everyone sits together and food is served by family members) , in the similar manner in which we have given up on the joint family system, a queue immediately forms in front of the food stalls. Food is now served by the employees of the caterer, and the serving of a particular item they give at one go is so small that even an ant might die of starvation after eating it. The person who wishes more of the same looks with pleading eyes towards the server for more of it. The derision with which the second serving is provided makes the person receiving it wish that the earth would open up and swallow him , but the thought that he has brought an expensive gift makes him detremined to carry on.
Espresso coffee is also being served. This coffee is much in demand at the marriage ceremonies, more so because beneath an outer cooler layer of foam it is scathingly hot. Innumerable tongues are scalded which results in lesser consumption of food.
The best or the worst part of this queue system (depends on which side you are on) is that it is impossible to go back for a second helping once you have partaked the first round of food, because you will have to enter the queue from behind the last person, and if for example you want a second helping of the delicious chutney, you will have to cross fifteen stalls in a queue which is moving even slower than the baarat, for a bit of chutney. Most of the people, except the bravehearts do not even try.
But the most anticipated of all delicacies is the Ice cream, which is uniformly White in colour. Which flavour? Which Brand? Don't even ask ! Not even the caterer knows this secret. But everbody wants a bit of it. People from 8-80 make a beeline for it, inspite of the fact that the person serving ice cream will pretend that he is spending for it from his own pocket. The slices which are served are thinner than a finger and any attempt for a second serving will ensure sarcastic looks from the server, looks which rob you of dignity, self esteem .......in short Looks which could Kill. This is the item which is finished of the fastest and late comers who were till now saying, " Line khali ho to chalein" (Let the queue thin out) can only curse their luck. People who never spend a single paisa in eating ice cream rush the fastest to this counter and never complain of the size of the slice or the sarcastic looks of the caterer. People with sore throats and fever, convince their family " Ghar chal ke gargle kar lenge" ( will gargle after reaching home). But ice cream they must have !!
The macho youngsters in the meanwhile have no time for coffee and ice cream for they are busy with their Kingfishers and Vodkas. Vehicles accompanying the baarat are placed conveniently for this rendezvous. These macho guys enter the cars surreptitiously and take a swig of the Amrit (nectar) as they call it, and giggle like school girls. Liqour does strange things to the mind and soul, they say.
Meanwhile, the real event for which everyone has gathered i.e the Marriage has also begun unnoticed. The Pandit is chanting verses which nobody understands. Even the Pandit at times is confused as to whether he is chanting the correct mantra for the occasion or not. But since nobody is concerned he carries on nevertheless, vedic mantras and rituals have basically become a formality for authenticating the marriage, nothing more. Intermittently, someone from the groom's side interjects, "Panditji, jaldi kijiye" (Hurry up). This is the best part about Hindu religion, you can ask Panditji to hurry up. Imagine somebody asking the maulavi or the padre to hurry up. Boring people these Christians and Muslims, I tell you.
The bride and the groom give each other the coy look. The rest of the baaratis are sleeping or are on the verge of sleeping. Since the majority of the baaratis have left there are only around 10-15 people left on each side. Some of them are hanging around because they live far off and going home bedecked in jewellery late at night might not be the best ending after a sumptuous meal. There are these fellows who make a living out of snatching and robbing you see! That most of the jewellery adorning the females has its origins in another kind of loot (under the table kind) is besides the point.
Finally after the the rituals which nobody has paid heed to, the ceremony is over. People are woken up from slumber and it is bidaai time as dawn is breaking. The crowd has thinned out even further as day break ensures even more desertions. The father of the bride is by now haggling with the tentwalaahs.
Bidaai is a ritual which is most poignant, but by now everybody is so tired that it is best done and gotten over with. There are only 3-4 of the grooms blood relations and friends who are still accompanying him whereas the brides side consists of females only. The rest have simply disappeared. The weeping bride is bundled into the vehicle and waved off. The bride weeps for one day and makes the groom pay by making him weep for the entire life or maybe she weeps because she now visualises her bleak future after marriage to this fool.
This my friends is the Great North Indian Marriage. What afterwards?
Well let me borrow from the great philospher Socrates,
"My advice to you is to get married. If you find a good wife, you'll be happy; if not, you'll become a philosopher".
