A dash of Pepper…

…with a splash of Mint

Archive for March 2nd, 2011

Wedding mania

Posted by Pepper on March 2, 2011

And it is March. This month, last year we took the big plunge and acquired the official license to harass each other. Yes, we got married. This blog didn’t even get a whiff of the events – the biggest events of my life. The mayhem took a while to do die down. And when it did, I didn’t have the enthusiasm to write about it. So I thought it was time I blow away the dust and chronicle the mania. I am going to divide these posts based on the three big events that were a part of our wedding. And more than providing details of the happenings, I am going to talk about the bloopers, what went on behind the scenes, and other stuff that people normally wouldn’t know.

Warning – Long post ahead. People with low tolerance to unnecessary details are advised to skip.

The Cocktail party

This was the first big event we were gearing up for. Considering it was the only party we were having in Bombay, we decided to make this a large scale affair and wanted something that would equal a reception. In all my stupidity zest, I had decided to be on the forefront of all the arrangements. We willingly chose a hotel that would rip us off. Each item on the menu was carefully selected by me. There was a lot I was taking care of. But despite the exhaustion, I was happy. Now let’s get to the bloopers.

– The dance. We were to have a couple of dances performed by my friends. The songs would be a part of the narration that spoke about our story. And then the friends insisted that Mint and I perform as well. If you know me, you’ll know how terrified I am of dancing. But I got pulled into it, helplessly.

– The song that was finally selected was a very cheesy SRK number. If you know Mint, you’ll know that the very mention of SRK is enough to make him barf. I had to not only convince him to do an SRK  number with me, I had to convince him to actually do a slow, love sick SRK number. The things he has agreed to for lou.

– Now that we had the song in place, we had to learn and rehearse the dance. The problem was that Mint and I weren’t together. He was in the US, and was supposed to come to Bombay one night prior to the party. One night! I kept breaking into sweat each time I’d think of how we’d manage to learn and rehearse and perfect the dance in one single night. Beside that, shouldn’t I be getting my beauty sleep that time? That was not to be. We spent the entire night dancing, trying to memorise the steps and get it right. By the time it was morning, I was one cranky, tired and sleep deprived monster.

– The D Day arrived and we walked in to the hotel in the afternoon. We had a couple of rooms booked there for us to get ready in. The party was to start in the evening. It was in the ball room downstairs. The rooms in the hotel were pretty and the bed was inviting. The piled up exhaustion surfaced, I couldn’t hold up any longer and I just slept. People kept nudging me to wake up, the make up artist had arrived. I was told it would take a while to get me ready and I had to start the process. At that point, I wanted everybody to go to hell. I was tired and all I wanted was sleep. The thought of the impending party was so stressful. I think they got the point and let me sleep for an hour, even though it delayed everything a little.

– Once I was up and willing to be glamoured, I walked into the room only to find out there was a different make up artist there. Not the one I had spoken and given detailed instructions to. I wanted my make up to be subtle and natural. The original guy had even given me a trial to assure me of his understanding and his abilities. And now, I was told he was held up and had sent a replacement. What choice did I have but to trust this man? I hesitantly agreed to let him have a go. I put my head back and almost slept (again!) while he sprayed my face with rose water and set to work. When I finally peeked into the mirror after he was done, I thought it was a little too loud for my taste. What could be done? Nothing.

– I finally stepped into my lehenga. And it was HEAVY. There were folds of thick fabric layered inside the skirt and I had to kick the cloth in front of me to be able to walk. And I was supposed to dance in this? And just to rub it in, the sister then asked me to wear my sandals. They were pretty with big heels. Great. Big heels + heavy outfit + nervousness + exhaustion + frightening dance performance = ? I’d have to wait for a while to know what that totaled to.

– The grand entry. I do not understand this whole concept of walking in late, after every guest has arrived. I would have preferred to sneak in quietly when few people were around. But I was asked to wait upstairs and then enter the party quite late. I am sure I was cursed by a lot of people. Anyway,  finally, it was time to walk in. This was one moment I dreaded, and rightfully so. The moment we entered, the DJ played some loud, dramatic music. He played Saawariya. Something I will never, ever forgive him for. And in the next instant, I had cameras, lights, etc shoved into my face. Not to mention the hovering eyes of every guest present there. Now, I am an attention seeking drama queen. I love being the focus. But that is only when it comes to family and close friends. Not 500 random people. At that time, I could hear my own mental cries of ‘Get the paparazzi outta my face!’. Sigh. This is our first click of the evening.

– The evening progressed. We cut the cake. The other dances were done and it was time for us to perform. I woefully stood up. The dance began. I prayed with every step. I fall clumsily when I walk on the ground with flats. Here I was, dancing in heels in front of hundreds of people, with a long, heavy lehenga, and an added duppata to make life more miserable. Falling down or tripping right now would not be pretty. There was a point when I felt my skirt slip down a little, and I had thoughts of a terrifying wardrobe malfunction happening there. But thankfully, we pulled along without any major pitfalls. Here are some glimpses of our dance.

– The food. I was hungry. But I couldn’t eat, because the would be bride and groom, with their families are supposed to eat in the end. Very unfair. While I was moving around, socialising and talking to people, somebody came up to me and told me the tiramisu was over. It was over? I panicked. I was aghast. How can I possibly not eat something like that at my own party? I promptly left everything and walked up to the buffet area to find out. Fortunately, the person who told me that was just fooling around. The tiramisu was safe. Phew.

– When the evening drew to an end and I finally sat down to eat, I was disappointed with the food. I mean, it was just-about-okay. Considering the obscene amount we paid per plate, I expected it to way better than what it was. Beside that, the hotel had arranged for a sample buffet for us before the event, and I was quite satisfied with the quality and the taste at that time. So when the actually food at the party didn’t turn out to be as great as I expected it to be, I felt rather cheated.

There’s a lot more I can write about, but the folks at WordPress would probably sue me for abusing my right to write and churning out such dreadfully long posts. Until the next event..

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