Wedding Mania – The marriage ceremony

After the reception, we were asked to proceed to the hotel in which the wedding ceremony would be held. My in laws had booked  a couple of rooms for us because it would be most convenient to spend the night there. By the time I got into my pajamas, it was 1 am. I had about two hours to sleep. I think I had just fallen asleep when the alarm rang. It was time to wake up and take a shower. The beautician who was to get me ready would be there in some time. I remember groaning and asking my mom for the nth time, if I could get married in my pajamas?

The lady arrived as soon as I was out of my shower. This time, I decided to do the make up on my own. I didn’t want my face to have layers of gaudy colours. The sari was put on. And then came the dreadful part – my hair do. She first added the extension. A long braid. She then placed some circular, metallic object on my crown. Then came the thick and heavy string of flowers. By now my head felt so heavy, I didn’t think I’d be able to look up ever again. But we weren’t done. She went on to add more metallic decorations to each segment of the braid. I think my head in isolation must’ve weighed more than the rest of my body.

After I was ready, Mint stepped into the room wearing his veshti. This time it was my turn to look at him and laugh.

At around this point, I realised my mom was seriously ill. She was nauseous and weak, and couldn’t even stand. The ceremony was to start soon. Somebody rushed her to the hospital, so that she could get a shot that would mend her temporarily. I tried to keep calm and told myself she’d be okay.

The ceremony began at 7 am. We had the Nalangu first. Oh, what the Nalangu really is, what relevance it has to a wedding and what it symbolises, I still don’t know. I asked Mint, and he didn’t know either. I wish somebody had taken the time to explain all these rituals to me and my clueless family. All that happened at this time is that I got another shower. Of turmeric strained rice grains. People came upto us, and generously poured a handful of them grains on to us. I don’t know how the rice made its way to such confined places, but I had yellow stains all over my lingerie.

By the time the Nalangu was over, my mom was back from the hospital. She didn’t seem okay even now. But we didn’t have enough time to look into it. We had to move on as per the events, since we couldn’t afford to miss the scheduled auspicious time for the wedding. I had precisely five minutes to change into another sari, click a few pictures and get back to the mandap. So imagine the level of panic!

The wedding ceremony began. We were sweating it out in front of the fire. I was extremely uncomfortable through out. My hair, due to the metallic decorations on the braid was getting caught in the embroidery on my sari blouse which was full of intricate wires. As a result, I had to keep my head bent until someone untangled it for me. This happened every few minutes and I kept feeling that annoying pull.

Suddenly, the background music became dramatic, and I realised it was the thali wearing time. Even after that was over, the rituals seemed to continue. At one point, I asked Mint in whispers, ‘Are we married yet or not?’. He looked around, considered it for a moment and whispered back. ‘I think we’re married’.

The ceremony went on for some more time, covering all the elements that are quintessential to Hindu Indian weddings.

Finally, after what seemed like a tiring journey, we were declared married. Phew.

I like this dramatic way of putting sindhoor. Look at the way his hand comes around me.

I have no idea what he is doing touching my feet. I was about to put my hand on his head and bless him, but I stopped myself. Not too many people would have thought it is appropriate. Or funny.

Count the garlands. Don’t ask me how much I weighed.

The moment the we got done, Mint ran out and changed into his jeans. That gave me the bright idea and I asked if I could change into my jeans too. They said I couldn’t. I had to enter the in laws house in all my glory. I was pretty annoyed. Mint’s veshti was not half as uncomfortable as my sari, jewelery and troublesome hairdo. But well, what had to be done, had to be done. At least we were done with it all and could call ourselves married.