Marriage obsession

Marriages now are an occasion to display money — irrespective of its colour — for being one up on others, for showing off one’s political and social contacts. Very often the matchmaking is also dictated by social status, not compatibility. These are marriages of convenience rather than the emotional bond they are supposed to be. Once the date is fixed — based on the convenience of the hotels, caterers and tent houses — both sides get down to the serious business of planning various fixtures.

It usually starts with the jagrata or chowkie — ostensibly to invoke God’s blessings but in reality to get the most expensive bhajan group and to encroach public parks and roads with gaudy shamianas, ensuring that the loud speakers have a reach of at least one kilometre and, of course, that there is enough place to lay out rich food, the single biggest obsession of every North Indian. Next in line areusually roka, shagun and ring ceremonies. They all mean the same thing but hosting multiple functions is a “question of status, you know”.

The piece de resistance is usually the sangeet at a farmhouse, with sharab-kabab, gana-bajana. What it really entails is hiring the likes of Daler Mehndi (so you can casually mention to the guests, “we had to pay the highway robber Rs 10 lakh”), installing 5,000-watt speakers, serving scotch till the guests virtually drop dead and generally making sure that the neighbourhood stays awake till the wee hours. Then, there is mehndi — another display of flashy saris and jewellery, the mehndi-wali from Hanuman Mandi deftly painting intricate designs on flabby hands of overfed females, churiwalas struggling to force multicoloured glass bangles on bulging forearms and, of course, more food and booze.

Baraat must mean a few hundred overdressed men and women dancing to the tune of the latest film hit on the road, peopledrinking out of mobile bars while the hosts wait for hours. Once there, the baraatis continue with their obsession — eating and drinking while the close family sits through the wedding ceremony which is usually brief (“we bribed the pandit to hurry up”) and the couple are quickly packed off to a five-star hotel.

The finale comes in the shape of a grand reception; 5,000-odd guests, the bridal couple and the groom’s parents standing at the decorated stage greeting an endless queue of people till their backs ache and jaws freeze in a permanent smile.

By the end of it all, the hosts and guests are all fed up and tired, ready to swear they’ll “never attend another do like this”. But only till the next wedding which must of course be bigger and better.