Written by Devpreet Singh
A phone call in the wee hours was rather eerie. Fearing the worst, Alok, my husband, answered the call and heard a wail on the other side. “What is this? Nobody has come to pick us up!”
Geeta mausi had reached Chandigarh railway station at 3 am. Our ‘Excel sheet’ had indicated her arrival at 3 pm!
Grumbling about technology glitches, Alok groggily washed his face, fumbled for his car keys, dragged himself out of bed and into the car. The first guests had arrived for our daughter’s wedding.
Spectacles in place, I made myself a cup of tea and sat down to scrutinise the multiple ‘To-Do’ lists and ‘Excel sheets’ once again. I also sent up a silent prayer for a hiccup-free wedding.
Planning a wedding begins with the tricky business of making a ‘guest list’. It invariably ends up inviting more wrath than family. The dilemma is: who to exclude?
If making arrangements for guests’ stay and transport on a tight budget is tough, the ever-growing guest list can be mind-boggling. Shopping for clothes, mithai and dry fruits, and deciding on caterers, decorators and music all move towards one goal: happy, graceful wedding ceremonies.
Slowly, we inched towards D-Day. Shopping for clothes and gifts was done, groceries were stocked, and a decorated and freshly whitewashed house warmly awaited guests and their blessings.
Somehow, the festivities took me back to our son’s muted ‘Covid wedding’.
The year was 2022. With only 50 guests permitted, we faced a different dilemma: who to include? Since most people had realised that being alive was more important than being seen, we managed rather well.
Though it was a small wedding, the protocols and ceremonies could not be compromised. Double masks in place, I also had the added task of making a newly allotted, dilapidated government accommodation look like home.
My days revolved around supervising labourers and gardeners, while also finalising venues, menus, decorators, mithai and all the other details. Shopping trips alternated between Delhi, for the bride and groom, and local markets for plants and tiles.
Then, the inevitable happened. Four days before the wedding, both my husband and I got Covid.
Our extended family became our support system. Frustrated and in isolation, we made last-minute arrangements, with the phone constantly glued to our ears.
Nevertheless, it was a beautiful, small wedding. And the bride came into a renovated home. Mission accomplished.
“Oh! What happened?”
A sudden hush and blackout brought me out of my reverie and back to 2026.
Electricity was playing truant. Our gorgeous decorations gasped for breath, music and dance spluttered to a halt, and we swung into action.
The show must go on!
The wedding ceremonies sailed smoothly thereafter. But what is a tale without a twist?
Since the bidaai time was fixed, the bride had to make an entry into her in-laws’ house before 12.50 am. To meet the deadline, the family had to forgo the meticulously curated food.
After a just-in-time bidaai, food-delivery apps took over, providing comfort food to exhausted and hungry souls, bride and groom included!
Big or small, weddings create khatta-meetha moments and provide the much-needed ‘spice of life’. But when children are happy with the partners they have chosen, all the chaos, planning and hiccups become worthwhile.
(The writer is a retired civil servant.)
Big or small, weddings create khatta-meetha moments and provide the much-needed ‘spice of life’. (Image genrated using AI) 
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