The news that everyone had been waiting to hear – the marriage of my sister Sindhu (with Sachin) – was received with great happiness and joy by near and dear (and also relief for some who had grown increasingly exasperated that her marriage had not been fixed yet. The common refrain was that she was getting too old). After all, it was the first wedding in the family since a long time; as a result there was tremendous anticipation and excitement on one hand and high expectation on the other. That meant the arrangements would have to be top-notch; though for my perfectionist parents (especially my mother), it wasn’t going to be that difficult. In a way it is paradoxical, since they would end up pushing themselves (and me!) that much harder to meet their exalted standards. In effect, the ball had started rolling.
The first thing to be done was to scout for a marriage hall. After a few enquiries here and there, we zeroed in on what seemed to be the right choice in all respects: size, number of rooms for the guests and most importantly, location. The catering was not of much concern as the caterer had done an excellent job for the last function, so the only issue was the availability of dates. Once the green signal came, food was struck off the to-do list.
One of the biggest challenges was preparing the invitation list. A complete traversal of the family tree was undertaken to make sure that nobody got left out (including friends and other close acquaintances). However, despite best efforts, one or two names were missed, though this realization only dawned when we eventually met or spoke to that person one fine day. Perfect setting for an embarrassing moment!
What’s a marriage without an invitation? Card buying was next on the agenda, followed by finalizing the card matter for printing. At the card shops, we were bombarded with several designs varying in size, colour, shape, use of fancy add-ons, etc. Filtering mercilessly and wading in and out of shops, we could have been accused of high-handedness. But my sister was adamant to meet her expectations of the ‘ideal’ card, and after a few hours, we finally got it. And I thought to myself- the toil had just begun!
An activity synonymous with weddings is shopping. So that was the next issue that had to be tackled. After much fuss and discussion, the ‘weekends-shopping’ itinerary was eventually drawn up as me and my sister, being part of the corporate bandwagon would be available only on the weekends. Initially, I trudged on these sojourns but eventually the going got tough and I didn’t get going. However I did receive praise for my limited appearances, particularly from a saleswoman in one of the sari shops who said it was great that the bride’s brother had come along and also gave his opinions! Now how many brothers do that she had asked. Anyway, my parents did most of the running around for the miscellany that had to be bought in addition to the main shopping. After the marriage, I realized how difficult it is to put all the jigsaw pieces together. Indeed, organizing a wedding successfully requires excellent event management skills. Hats off to all parents!
The days ticked by really quickly and soon the D-day had arrived. Rituals that had to take place on the eve of the wedding had been shifted to the morning to accommodate the mehendi and sangeet (music and dance) in the evening. The heavy downpour in the evening ensured that the hot snacks had many takers. Everybody had a gala time, dancing away to the foot-tapping numbers that were also interspersed by special solo and group dance performances. The cooks and hall staff, who stood watching from the first floor, were quite amused having perhaps witnessed something like this for the first time and enjoyed as much as all of us did, to the extent that when asked to serve dinner to a few guests who had to leave early, they were initially reluctant to do so as they would miss some portion of the ‘show’!
As the marriage was on a Sunday, it was convenient to attend and the guests were evenly spread across morning and evening (luckily, it didn’t rain as well). My sister drew ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as she came out decked in traditional attire for the nuptial ceremony. Sachin, not accustomed to the rituals, did quite well and also enjoyed himself during the garland exchange when the couple are lifted by their respective uncles and then have to exchange garlands. Another such moment came during a ritual wherein the bridegroom is supposedly miffed and starts off on a pilgrimage. The bride’s father must then cajole him to come back. While doing so, the bride’s brother (yours truly) must keep fanning the groom to keep him comfortable! Then the time to tie the knot finally arrived. My sister sat on my father’s lap (symbolic of giving away the bride) and it was a very emotional moment for both my parents. Soon, their little girl who had now grown into a mature young woman would leave to begin a new phase of her life.
The evening reception was not without incident. A delay at the hair salon coupled with a mix-up gave my mom the jitters (she left the reception sari in our in-laws’ car, and they also didn’t realize it). Punctual to the T, she hated being late and more so to our own function! What ensued were frantic calls to Sachin’s sister, the guest house where they were put up, people in the hall, etc. At long last, the sari was located and my dad went to get it. And we ended up a bit late. Another major irritant was the photographer, who was often rude and impatient, and to top it was a braggart. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to put up with the fellow. Apart from these it was all smooth sailing and by the time we had packed up, it was well past midnight.
We all then went to Mumbai (our in-laws’ residence) where a small reception was held for their friends there who couldn’t make it to Bangalore. Sindhu and Sachin left for the US a day later. Everything had happened so quickly that it took a few days for us to sink in. It had all seemed like a wonderful dream. A fairytale wedding? Not quite, but wishing Sindhu and Sachin a happy and delightful married life. We’ll all miss her.