The Wedding - A different perspective
My cousin’s wedding invitation arrived in an embossed golden envelope. It was so luxurious looking that I kept it for a while – I felt seduced by it. Inside, the invitation lay wrapped in a translucent embroidered paper. It was a rich orange color that I see only India carry off with aplomb. There were four ivory pages inside, each sinking me into an image of soft satin cushions on exquisite Kashmiri carpets. One invitation was for “sangeet” held a couple of days before the wedding – a get together of the brides family alone, where traditional and raunchy songs are sung, A second invitation was for “Mehndi”, a get together when intricate henna designs are applied to the hands and feet of the bride and other women. A third one was for “Sagun”, where the bride and groom’s families exchange a token (or sometimes a substantial) amount of wealth as a confirmation of their intention in following through with the marriage arrangements. And then there was one for the wedding itself. This was an arranged marriage and there were all kinds of arrangements in place.
Delhi folks are known for their indulgence in all things material. At each event people (mostly the same relatives again and again) came dressed better than the previous time. And just when you were sure that they couldn’t get any better – they took your breath away with the colors, the designs, the fabrics, the exquisite jewelry and the perfection with which all this was adorned. It soaked in and awakened the senses and left one wanting more. All the women at every occasion seemed to be of breathtaking beauty. The dark heads of hair glittered in the soft evening decorative lighting. The olive skins smooth even in the older women left an impression of undisturbed elegance. Their big dark eyes looked perpetually innocent. Visually I was mesmerized and my senses salivated as I watched this display of taste and elegance. .I wanted to become invisible so I could crawl around and feel the soft silks. Contrasting colors were put together with amazing effect. This was in such sharp contrast to the “little black dress” culture that I had just left behind. I wore a completely black outfit to one of these events. One person looked me up and down and queried-“what are you wearing with that?”
In the last decade men’s fashions in India have come into their own. They were not to be outdone either. The sherwani’s and Kurta’s were made of the most exquisite silks and cottons interwoven with zari. Many wore nicely cut suits with beautiful colored shirts and flashy ties which in another setting would have hurt the eyes but somehow sat really well here. The imagination and effort that went into the outfits speak volumes for the importance of attire in the culture and in particular at an occasion like this one. Many of the relatives had at least one new outfit made for the wedding. This extravagant show of support of the bride and groom by the well heeled, well-groomed family is both necessary and desired by all. . It’s also possible that it is the occasional grand event not to be trifled with.
I was lulled into a world where comfort was assumed, where every need was taken care of. There was a general feeling of being enveloped in warmth and generosity that made one feel nourished. And there was plenty of nourishment too. Waiters walked around invisible flowing in and out with the soft shehnai music carrying an array of drinks and delicious hors d’ouevres. Beautiful flowers in abundance decorated the entrance. Rare looking orchids hung casually along the walls. It was almost fairy tale like, beautiful, sensuous, scintillating.
India is seductive in many ways and I felt pulled into a soft abyss where poverty was but a speck in the distance, where the temperature was controlled for comfort so you forgot about the outside world, where the palate existed only for indulgence. And then there was the invigorating bhangra music which demanded a response from the body. All the events were choreographed, to be carried away by all as a performance to be remembered. Yet there was no strict structure to any of the occasions, the events just unfolded and enfolded you along with them. There was a relaxed acceptance of things ordinary at the same time. People casually picked at the hors d’ouevres and nobody cast a dirty looks at the use of fingers. This was refreshing compared to the west, where too much of a show is put on as a proxy for doing the right thing.
There was an over indulgence in food and drinking and being weighed down with heavy jewelry during the five days of events that encompassed the wedding. There was a sense that one would have to recover from this gargantuan celebration. At the same time it felt that it was befitting to participate and use up to the fullest, ones energies and resources. It was like life and death itself.
Delhi folks are known for their indulgence in all things material. At each event people (mostly the same relatives again and again) came dressed better than the previous time. And just when you were sure that they couldn’t get any better – they took your breath away with the colors, the designs, the fabrics, the exquisite jewelry and the perfection with which all this was adorned. It soaked in and awakened the senses and left one wanting more. All the women at every occasion seemed to be of breathtaking beauty. The dark heads of hair glittered in the soft evening decorative lighting. The olive skins smooth even in the older women left an impression of undisturbed elegance. Their big dark eyes looked perpetually innocent. Visually I was mesmerized and my senses salivated as I watched this display of taste and elegance. .I wanted to become invisible so I could crawl around and feel the soft silks. Contrasting colors were put together with amazing effect. This was in such sharp contrast to the “little black dress” culture that I had just left behind. I wore a completely black outfit to one of these events. One person looked me up and down and queried-“what are you wearing with that?”
In the last decade men’s fashions in India have come into their own. They were not to be outdone either. The sherwani’s and Kurta’s were made of the most exquisite silks and cottons interwoven with zari. Many wore nicely cut suits with beautiful colored shirts and flashy ties which in another setting would have hurt the eyes but somehow sat really well here. The imagination and effort that went into the outfits speak volumes for the importance of attire in the culture and in particular at an occasion like this one. Many of the relatives had at least one new outfit made for the wedding. This extravagant show of support of the bride and groom by the well heeled, well-groomed family is both necessary and desired by all. . It’s also possible that it is the occasional grand event not to be trifled with.
I was lulled into a world where comfort was assumed, where every need was taken care of. There was a general feeling of being enveloped in warmth and generosity that made one feel nourished. And there was plenty of nourishment too. Waiters walked around invisible flowing in and out with the soft shehnai music carrying an array of drinks and delicious hors d’ouevres. Beautiful flowers in abundance decorated the entrance. Rare looking orchids hung casually along the walls. It was almost fairy tale like, beautiful, sensuous, scintillating.
India is seductive in many ways and I felt pulled into a soft abyss where poverty was but a speck in the distance, where the temperature was controlled for comfort so you forgot about the outside world, where the palate existed only for indulgence. And then there was the invigorating bhangra music which demanded a response from the body. All the events were choreographed, to be carried away by all as a performance to be remembered. Yet there was no strict structure to any of the occasions, the events just unfolded and enfolded you along with them. There was a relaxed acceptance of things ordinary at the same time. People casually picked at the hors d’ouevres and nobody cast a dirty looks at the use of fingers. This was refreshing compared to the west, where too much of a show is put on as a proxy for doing the right thing.
There was an over indulgence in food and drinking and being weighed down with heavy jewelry during the five days of events that encompassed the wedding. There was a sense that one would have to recover from this gargantuan celebration. At the same time it felt that it was befitting to participate and use up to the fullest, ones energies and resources. It was like life and death itself.
posted by Iss Desh ki Dharti at
9:29 AM
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