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This is an archive article published on August 21, 2004

Rained out

Evidently a lot of planning, along with a nouveau riche king’s ransom in wealth, had gone into the incredible display that marked the f...

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Evidently a lot of planning, along with a nouveau riche king’s ransom in wealth, had gone into the incredible display that marked the fourth and final day of ‘the wedding celebration of the decade’ in our colony. It was the wedding day itself.

My mind flashed back to the day before. The ‘theme’ of the wedding, had been ‘the laid-back beauty of rural India’. The day before we had witnessed the erection of small (designer) huts, elegantly holding their ground in the pompous finery that surrounded them. A 100 kw generator thundered outside, vying for attention with the celebrity singers.

It was the wedding to beat all weddings, raved the nouveau riche on the lower rungs to super-nouveau-riche-dom.

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‘‘So ethnic and chic,’’ raved the socialites. ‘‘Especially that idea of having the blue sky for a roof. An authentic rural experience, to be sure!’’

It was possibly the first time one looked up at the sky with feet (if-not-quite-firmly) rooted on the plushest of carpets.

I wondered at the thoughts that might be passing through the minds of the artisans as they had erected the ‘authentic designer huts’ on man-made carpets. Frankly, they seemed too overworked to ponder upon such ironies.

The ‘one-day-huts’ then made way for even swankier sets for the Wedding Day. The theme, bordered on the ‘Mughlai-rural’, with thrones for the bride and bridegroom, befitting in design and grandeur those of our erstwhile Mughal emperors. They glittered under surprised sky! Yes, the clear, blue sky was chosen again for the open-air ‘durbar’.

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Not all the meticulous planning, however, had considered the possibility of a sudden fluctuation in the mood of the winter sky. It seemed, suddenly, unpredictably, to break into an unprecedented downpour even before the baraat had had time to say, ‘‘How ethnic and chic!’’ As the sky rained hysterically, all hell broke loose. Agitated ladies, dripping diamonds and water, ran helter-skelter losing their tuxedoed spouses in the chaos.

The bride’s relatives were trying, literally, to protect the drenched delicacies with their bodies. They looked strikingly human and vulnerable. So did the bridegroom’s people, as they huddled up in their cars and makeshift shelters. The sight was too sad for anyone to pass any judgment or pronounce,‘‘Don’t take God for granted.’’

But as we walked home, the sight of this lavish paraphernalia — worth at least a crore now swept away into muddy waters — was still fresh in the mind. Then somebody chuckled wickedly above the din, ‘‘If they had had yesterday’s ‘hut-decor’ today, at least they would have gotten to eat something like the real poor!’’

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