Remembering to Forget

Well, a lot of people have asked / requested / threatened me into doing a post on my wedding (for the uninitiated, the deed was committed on the 2nd of Dec, 2009). Why the delay, do you ask? Well, the best wedding advice I got was from my paternal uncle who said:

There’s no doubt that marriage is suffering. But since nothing can be done about that NOW, remember that the one with a sharper memory is the unhappier of the two. Learn and remember to forget.

I, being the quintessential good student, completely internalized it and forgot to write/speak/talk wedding and related memorabilia. It could also be that I was shocked into silence. However, the threats have gotten a little uncomfortable of late, and so here I am, posting it here (not a complete account, by any standards.. just observations). Here goes:

Punjabi Weddings (in my family at least) are EXACTLY the big fat monstrosities they are made out to be on the screen by the Chopras, Johars and their in-laws. (We are nothing if not honest.) Now, without much ado, here are the thingummies that characterize a Punjoo wedding:

1. Rich (oily), yummy (spicy) food served with freely flowing alcohol, relished with deeeeeeeep conversation about how olive oil fried pakoras would have been healthier
2. Relatives, mostly hyperactive, atleast one deciding to go naraaz on the host on the friggin’ wedding day (all the time! I mean, come on!)
3. Auntyjis exchanging notes on saris, shoes, handbags, chandni chowk, zari, silk, paper silk, winter wear, inner wear, inner winter wear (I’m only stopping here to spare you! Appreciate!) amidst plenty bride-ribbing
4. Said aunties breaking into random songs and jigs in the highest pitch possible, amidst nudging shoving the bride around
5. Mummyji, a sweet but hyper pill-popping diabetic motherly person – being very hassled, dragging everyone for lunch/breakfast/dinner and handing sweets / tijori ki chaabi / red dupatta required at 5.20 am next morning, to random person A, and then spending 5 hours looking for random person A because it’s 3:20 am. Hey bhagwaan, how will the ritual start in ONLY two hours without the red dupatta
6. A bride-to-be, being (a) always hurried to go somewhere – go to the temple, the pooja needs to begin or go to the parlor, they need to make you beautiful or go to the room and rest for a while, and then go to the parlor. (b) advised continuously on useless stuff and (c) the butt of random community jokes, since she’s marrying a non-Punjabi [Yes, my relatives think the word “rossogulla” is hilarious. We are very north-bred racists sometimes. Excuse!]
7. Events that start at least a couple of hours late, muhurats be damned, because we believe in being fashionably late plus we do not have any real customs, we simply improvise on the go
8. Frenzy of activity that leads you to believe people are just too damn bored and are hence, doing all this to keep themselves engaged.. you see, a LOT of furniture being moved around / chai being served around / cards being played
9. Something being missed or lost i.e. hawww,-woh-red-wala-bag-to-ghar-pe-hi-reh-gaya, followed by a quick passing-the-buck session i.e. main-laya-tha-maasi-woh-maine-issko-diya-tha and nahi-mujhe-kab-diya-tha followed by someone driving at breakneck speed to get the red wala bag
10. Thanks to being a (reluctant) part of my mother’s family, I have learnt to deal with a LOT of lists. List of what to buy, what to get wrapped in green paper, what to get wrapped in pink paper, what is to remain unwrapped, whose stuff is in which bag etc etc AND a list of who owns which list. True Story: Since we were travelling to Calcutta from Delhi for the wedding, we had enough stuff with us for some co-passengers to get fed up with our endless packets falling on their heads throughout the first half of the journey. They almost got off the train with a polite “Hum kal chale jayenge”. Therefore, my mother, in all her infinite wisdom, had locked all the suitcases and made a list of which key is for which lock, along with the location of the key (since she’s really really forgetful). We reached our destination in Cal, only to learn that this master list was nowhere to be found. Let the record state that there was a lot of yelling, tugging at suitcases to shock-and-awe them into opening, broken locks and some keys found to locks that had already been broken.

Bengali weddings, on the other hand, (or on the same hand, you decide!) are more likely to be all about:

1. Syrupy sweet food – if you haven’t eaten Sandesh (again, this word cracks up my ENTIRE family – “Shawn-Desh” hahahaha.. *tears rolling down their cheeks*.. aaaahahaha! Right.) on your visit to Calcutta, you have – in some indirect way – proven that the hosts weren’t doing a great job of hosting you.
2. Relatives who almost thrive on the misery of the bride and the groom. Mark my words, Bengali cousins are most mean
3. Mashis, Pishis and Maamis  who are super sweet, but have a looooong list of ‘do this, do that’ and you better smile and DO THIS AND DO THAT
4. Meshos and other assorted uncles who are there for item no. 1 and to discuss politics
5. Mummyji and Papaji, hassled by the time the bride gets to meet them but super-excited, and hence resembling her parents, being bullied by the aunties (refer item 3)
6. A groom-to-be, being (a) always hurried to go somewhere – go to the temple, the pooja needs to begin or go to the salon, they need to make you presentable or go to the room and rest for a while, and then go to the salon. (b) advised continuously on useless stuff and (c) the butt of random community jokes, since he’s marrying a non-Bengali [Yes, his relatives think “balle balle” is hilarious. They are very east-bred racists sometimes. Excuse!]
7. Events that start at an hour when the Punjabi junta party is still… err.. into their fifth cup of tea after which they will “pakka se, get up and get ready! fikar na karo tussi.. waise bhi ekdum 7 baje thoda kuch shuru hoga?”
8. Planning about the next day, and the next day, and the day after that.. because they, my friend, have LONG weddings… make-you-feel-this-was-a-bad-idea-to-begin-with LONG… or they-should-have-a-time-out-somewhere LONG
9. Customs and rituals relating to everything – when the bride gets to meet the guy custom – CHECK. morning bath custom – CHECK. what clothes you wear custom – CHECK. when you step out of your room custom – CHECK. when you eat your first meal custom – CHECK. when you rip your hair out custom – WIP, I’m sure
10. Bengali jokes that, you know, are VERY funny (I’m told) BUT cannot be translated. So, you live with it. Like I did

Now I leave you with the task of fusing the two lists above, throwing in a bride (that’s me!) who isn’t very cooperative in such circumstances, and adding not one, not two but THREE receptions to this deadly mixture and voila! that’s my wedding saga!

Dobara mat poochna!! 😀

So yeah, we survived it and we were off to a lovely holiday soon after. Might do another (relatively more sane) post on the wedding soon, with pictures, when I can stomach opening that CD. Or I think I’ll wait another decade.

PS: Sorry for all the Hinglish 🙂