August 31, 2011
It is done: the wedding. Phase 1 of my India trip is complete. Well not quite. We, as in a bunch of our relatives, are visiting Ajith's house for lunch tomorrow. Even by the most conservative counting of only the senior citizens of our family i.e. my parents' siblings and their spouses, we hit a number of 36! Later on, on Sunday, Ajith's relatives will visit us. Only after that visit, the couple are let free to go honeymoon.
I am typing this to the background score of the rain. It is beating loudly on the shamiana roof. The rain started within half an hour of Tara leaving the wedding hall in her newly married status. Much credit was distributed about whose prayers had worked to keep the rain at bay since yesterday afternoon.
I was showered and ready by 6am today. Nishant came with the Toyota Innova sparkling since we had told him that it'll be decorated to take the bride to the venue. But first we went to the temple. I did the obligatory perambulating. Amma and Tara did not take long. On our way back, couple of mahouts were steering a magnificent tusker on the road. I think he was being taken for the ceremony involving Pratibha Patel, President of India, later that morning. Because of President's visit, major traffic restrictions in the city. We were afraid this would inconvience the guests.
I was dressed in the traditional 'mundu' and a white Egyptian cotton full sleeve shirt. Tradition demands the mundu. I have heard numerous stories from relatives and friends about this inconquerable beast who needs constant attention to stay put on the waist. Gentlemen have resorted to all sorts of mechanisms to make it stay where it is meant to stay. I am not that terrified of the mundu. I have slept 99% of the nights of my life since I was 14 wearing a 'lungi', which is the low grade cousin of the mundu. Even in the US, I always carried my trusted lungis with me while traveling.
Lungi and mundu are the ultimate comfort wear. No tightness, instant removal, twin-use as a blanket in case one feels cold while sleeping. The tying of the mundu is one of the greatest cultural achievement of mankind. Men and women in Kerala are struggling to keep this art alive just as hard as young men and women struggle to keep their mundus in place during the very few traditional occasions they are forced to wear them.
Tara left for the venue in the decorated car by 7:30 with the beautician, a cousin brother and a cousin sister. While she left the house (traditionally her official "leaving of the house") a granny and Amma did ululations (called kurava in Malayalam). It is not a wailing type but a happy sound. The granny used to be a grand master of ululations. Now age has caught up with her. She can only do 3-4 rounds.
I arrived at the venue in my mundified munificence by 8:15am. It is the responsibility of the brother of the bride to welcome the groom and his family to the venue. This reception was scheduled for 9:30 am. Amma's set of relatives from her native village came in a rented bus early. The bus had to be pulled into the neighboring vacant plot of land next to the marriage auditorium because traffic police were strict today. The road in front of the auditorium was serving as a city bypass for traffic rereouted because of the President's visit. Lamest joke of the day award goes to the 250 relatives who suggested that the President had come for the wedding!
Fearing traffic, Ajith and his family arrived by 9am. They had to wait outside the hall till the auspicious time of 9:30 arrived. Earlier when I had chatted with Tara, I had mentioned that we should get rid of traditions like washing groom's feet because they are a carry over from shoe-less peripatetic existence. Ajith had agreed to this. But our "understanding" was thrown out of the window by the "traditionalists". Ajith's dad, the amicable Mr. Menon, smilingly told me, "If you guys don't do this, tongues will wag. There will be much complaining from the senior citizens. It's only a bit of water. What's the harm?!". "No harm," we said. A 'kindi' (brass vessel with spout) and a cotton towel was immediately arranged. Ajith waited in the car with air conditioning so that he won't sweat much. He refused the previously mentioned 'mango drink with a hint of mint'. He suspected a conspiracy in the drink offer to make him go on a pee break in the middle of the proceedings.
9:30 sharp, 8 little girls in the family carrying lamps walked in front of me to receive the groom. Ajith stood on a low wooden stepping stool. As I poured a little water on his feet and dried it, he bent down to whisper, "Ithonnum manasil vachekaruth" (please don't keep this in your mind...with thoughts of revenge). Then I garlanded him. "This is pretty heavy," he said. "The revenge has begun," I said. While I handed the bouquet and shook his hands, my cousin sprinkled rose-water on us. Then a major pause and frozen life for the photographers and videographers. Such pausings and playing statue continued through out the day. Weddings are mostly directed by videographers and photographers. In fact, those are the only guys who care about the bride and the groom. Rest of the guests are only interested in the parents of the bride and the groom and if the brother of the bride is going to be married soon. The wedding is the parents' success or failure. Are the flowers dry? Is there enough gold? Was there a little too much salt in the curry?
After the formal welcome, we had an hour and half before the auspicious time for the wedding (called muhurtham and misprinted in the wedding invitation as muthurtham) arrived. Ajith went to chat with his friends. Tara was stuck in the make-up room with the beautician since 8am. We are meant to see her only in the full glory at 11am. It was the duty of Amma, Achan and myself to welcome the guests. Weddings are conducted by the bride's family, so number of guests from the bride's side is usually more than double the guests from the groom side. Besides, it made sense that we stand to welcome the folks we had run around inviting.
There were three big screen TVs installed for live coverage of the events. Cameras feeding this were constantly dragged around the place with wire movement primed to trip people. Wireless transmission cameras have a potential market. Luckily there is no audio feed. If there was an audio feed, many marriages would lead to bad relationships among the guests.
The venue resonated with Sopana Sangeetham, a traditional temple singing. A sample youtube video of this temple art form is at the end of this note. The singer was from the famous local Attukal Devi temple. He was accompanied by an equally talented younger guy. They were absolutely brilliant. This act was much classier than the usual film music orchestra and recorded music that happens at wedding. The whole thing was Rema aunty's set up. Much gratitude.
Crowd divided itself into bunch of groups to chat. By 10:15, the first round of lunch was served. It was very difficult to get people to go eat for this early round. After much cajoling, around a hundred people went. A mad rush to eat lunch right after the wedding is traditional. It seems nowadays, the rush is so bad that people wait behind those who are still eating. It is impossible for someone to eat at ease when hungrier eyes are trained on his or her banana leaf (the feast is served on banana leaves). This waiting game reminded me of a prof in the Aero dept at TAMU who would sit on this research assistant's room staring into the desktop screen over the student's shoulder. I can never do research with such "super-vision". Luckily, no such mad rush happened at the wedding. Around 200 people ate in each of the 3 rounds that followed the wedding. The food was universally acknowledged as very decent. The three payasams: traditional ada (rice-based), kadala (gram based) and paal payasam with boli (milk-based, served with a yellow sweet pancake) were deemed excellent.
On the dot at 11am, Tara, in her golden splendour was led down the stairs into the wedding dias by a row of 8 little girls and older ladies carrying lamps. Ajith was already waiting seated on the dias after receiving the blessings from both set of parents. While seeking blessings, there is a tradition of giving an arace nut wrapped in a green betel leaf. I wonder what the origins of this offering is. Tara looked very happy in her costume. Whether the golden glitter went overboard is a judgement that can be made only after seeing the official photographs in a couple of days.
Achan leads Tara onto the dias. The crux of the wedding ceremony is the tying of the sacred marital thread. As soon the groom does this, his sisters who are waiting behind the bride, assist in finishing the tying. Then Ajith hands Tara three sarees. This used to be the only thing required for marriage in olden times. It was called "Pudava kodukal" (giving clothes). Tara put the wedding ring on Ajith's finger and we were done. They took circles around the lamp on the dias and promptly went on freeze for the photographs. Guests went up the dais to greet them and be photographed. I went back to repeating my new greeting to all the guests, "Did you eat?"
I met lots of old uncles and aunts from the Central Bank of India. They used to be regular visitors to our home to meet Achan when we were kids. There were 35 chairs saved up for VIPs. Since it is not proper to make anyone get up, space for these chairs were kept cleared in the front. When a VIP appeared, Bhaskaran would miraculously appear with the required number of chairs. Bhaskaran is Rema Aunty's family helper. He is a magician when it comes to getting things done. And unlike regular helpers, he does it silently and neatly. Bhaskaran and the Innova driver, Nishanth, introduced yesterday were the two hard workers who ensured that today was a smooth success.
Some time later, K. Muralidharan, son of ex-Chief Minister of Kerala, K. Karunakaran showed up. He was a guest from the groom side. Photographers and videographers surrounded him. He got photographed with Ajith. Tara was busy changing into her second saree for the event. Brides go through three sarees. One for the wedding, one for having lunch and one for leaving to the husband's house.
I ate lunch in the round that the new couple ate. The food was pretty good. When I went to drop her at the railway station later, Chalam's mom remarked, "Why would you be in USA missing all these great food? This is your age to eat all these. When you reach our age, if you come back, there will be so many diet restrictions. You cannot enjoy these then!"
Sensible point!
The auspicious time for the new wife to leave to her new husband's house was 2:30. I enjoyed the wait by connecting with the next generation in the family. These 5-8 year old kids had played their own wedding game assigning roles of bride, groom, bride's mom,groom's dad etc amongst themselves. This is how society catches them young.
Everyone was sleepy after the feast, so the wait appeared longer. I was carrying a small black bag full of cash meant for the different contractors. Soon it became the favorite past time of my relatives to ask jokingly if I needed any help keeping the bag. We paid the food contractor first. He said he needed only half the amount now and would "settle" the rest later.
The decoration of the wedding auditorium was classy but I don't think it justified the exorbitant amount charged. There is the practise of asking extra money under the label of 'oru santoshathinu' (for happiness). This is a semi-black mail intended at folks who don't want any bad feelings left at the "sacred" marriage venue. I didn't feel for "the happiness" of the decorator folks so we paid only the stipulated contract amount.
Lot of old,retired military men work as security guards here. We had two yesterday at home for guiding the cars. There were two more today at the venue. How the hell do these guys manage to get drunk during the event?! It is a deep marriage mystery.
Traditionally the bride is supposed to cry as she leaves her family behind. Sometimes the family joins in this drama. This is the kind of public display of affection much admired in India. Tara had a huge smile when she left. "Aren't any of you going to cry?" a concerned relative asked.
I was busy arranging the "good omen" as she left. Since the day started with feet wash, I wanted to end it with more hogwash. It is believed that a two-wheeler vehicle coming opposite to the couple's car is a great omen as they leave. I asked the Tahsildar cousin to ride in on his motorbike. He appeared spontaneously on the bike as the couple's car reached the auditorium gate. Much ooh-ing and aah-ing happened among the relatives. "What a great coincidence," said my oldest uncle, "it is the perfect omen." Achan told him that I had arranged for it. "You are a good director. I should see your drama videos," uncle said.
The huge welcoming arch at the wedding venue had banana stems and bunches of tender coconuts on both sides. Bhaskaran took on the duty of dismantling them and packing them home with us. Before he could get to it, a bunch of middle-aged men showed up. "We are from the Subramanian Temple near by. Would you like to donate these tender coconuts for the temple?" I could feel the stench of their devotion in their breath. Local rum and toddy smell is unmistakable. I had no intention of providing them tender coconuts for their next fix.
My final duty for the day was to see off Chalam's mom. From the looks of it, she enjoyed the proceedings of the whole day. When she got to her seat number 1 in the S3 coach of Anantapuri express, she blessed me, "Tarakku nalla payyan kedachathu mathiri, ungalukkum sheekram oru nalla pon kedakkum" (Just like Tara got a good groom, you will also get a good bride soon). I head bobbed even as her hand was on my head.
Felt very tired once I got back home. Once again, socializing without alcohol takes its toll. Socializing in a mundu takes double the toll. But since I am in an alcohol-free environment, I had to make do with 3-4 tender coconuts. It is a healthier high.
I must have averaged retying the mundu once every half hour. It's a pretty decent average for a day of active moving about. I admire the folks who play football and volleyball wearing lungi in the villages ofKerala.
It started raining so heavily in the evening that the guys who came to dismantle the
shamiana outside the house left without even a quarter of the job done. It continues to rain into the night. Very heavily. If this rain had happened yesterday or this morning, the whole wedding would have been a near total washout.
I must admit that I hadn't enjoyed all the rain in the last 27 days this much because the marriage had me occupied. Tonight's rain is the sweetest. It is sweeter because it waited yesterday night and this morning.
Some coincidences are called luck.
Here begins the ending of the phase 1 of my India trip. Phase 2 launches in a staggered fashion from tomorrow: finding a business to keep me occupied in the mornings, a drama troupe and/or cultural forum for the afternoons and weekends. Orthochronos helpdesk will be active again from India on Monday.
Sopana Sangeetham sample: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ncdIjoNYxk
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