Between Bride
& Tribes
Kris was running as if a dozen blood thirsty village mongrels were after him. Fact was, he was running away …….from his own
wedding!
He somehow managed
to board the train & exulted “Yes”! He was free. They would not be
able to nab him.
As he watched the green paddy fields waft by he felt a
twinge in his heart. The events of the past week played out in his mind.
His only wish was to marry the girl he adored and
everything was moving on smoothly ..
Until the horde of boisterous, Crazy relatives arrived. He
was terrified and had to change his mind
Raksha, came from a large family, Born to
South Indian Parents, her 5 paternal Uncles/Aunts their 11 children, 4 maternal
uncles/Aunts and 10 children doted over
her .She was the cynosure of their eyes. Hers was a truly “Nationally”
integrated family,with cousins married to Mallus, Gujjus, Punjus, Bongs . The
gregarious extended family got along
like a house on fire.
He met “Rak”
in London and it was love at first sight for both and
they had started planning for a wedding.
She desired a traditional South Indian style wedding in her native Tamil
Nadu.
Vishwanathan Balachandran and Padma had migrated to
London decades back. They had brought up their only son Krishnamurthy Vishwanathan in the best of English traditions and
culture.\
As years rolled by,
‘Vish Bala’ &‘Pam’ watched
with pride as son ‘Kris’ grew into a
fine, cultured ‘Propah’ young man.
Kris had no idea about
an Indian wedding but acceded to her request.
For Rak he would do anything.
. Oh! How badly he had misjudged! ....he brooded over his
mistake.
He had collected lot of information about South Indian
weddings and had a fair idea of what to expect. But “reality “ is so different
" he mumbled as he continued the journey
away from Poovathur.
The hullabaloo had started at the airport soon after his
arrival. He was choked in bear hugs and
then carried on shoulders to a flower bedecked car with ear splitting music
belted out by a music band and a retinue of bizarrely dressed people of all
ages. For a second , he thought that he was being Kidnapped . He was shoved
into the back seat of the car.
Seated inside was his Rak smiling coyly at him and Gujju aunty with betel juice dripping from the edge
of her mouth . The excited car driver, was
racing down the highway, and turning round in his seat every now and to strike a conversation with ‘mappilaai’ . Kris was scared stiff.
They arrived at the venue 2 hours late, but nobody seemed to notice! time meant nothing to these people. What a
chaotic place he had come to, He was appalled
Kris thanked
his stars for still being alive..
The driver demanded the fare. Rak looked at her Gujju aunty. She began dipping her fingers deep into her
blouse “Huṁ tene sodhi sakato nathi ”
she exclaimed dipping her hands deeper. Kris was embrassed, and horrified. Finally she pulled out the
currency note and handed the money to the
driver
Rak’s uncle looked at Kris
and consoled him,” we need to be careful. I myself keep my cash here." He said parting his dothi
and revealing a blue,black and white striped underpant.
But this had been just
the beginning of his predicament. As he was dragged into the venue, he was told
that a certain Haldi ceremony would be performed later in the evening followed
by the Mehndi .
. With a a
giggling crowd surrounding him, he was stripped half naked & being smeared
with grimy yellow paste. He wanted to
scream .A few enthusiastic aunties even rubbed the sticky paste into nostrils,
ears and even eyes. Only in excitement of course.
And finally with the aunties losing interest,
his skin burning, he rushed to the
bathroom to wash off the paste. There in
the bathroom stood four burly Uncles ,waiting
"We have been entrusted to bathe you," they
informed him.
“, err.. Thanks
but I can manage” he protested.
“It’s your wedding, and our duty is to treat you
respectfully”. “nannaḷ
ninnaḷe rajakiyamayi parigaṇikkuṁ”
exclaimed Mallu Uncle .Bridegrooms never take a bath alone."
Kris was in despair The crazy rituals were driving
him insane but every time he looked at Rak’s sprightly face he decided to put up with the absurdity
and endure the pain till this farce they called a wedding, would be over.
The Mehndi itself was a wild celebration. People were
dancing to deafening DJ music and others were throwing wads of currency notes
on them as they would on bar dancers. When he had enquired from Rak about the imprudence, she proudly
informed him that they were actually respectable members of her family.
Then the feeding began. He had never eaten so much food and so much
sweet ever before.
He was almost ready to scream. He
informed Rak about how he felt.
"Let's escape ," he pleaded.
She thought he was joking. She herself was enjoying every bit of the
action. She blew a kiss and rejoined the
dancing troupe.
Kris had had enough. He had seen and suffered the full blown
orgy!
He reached the train station alone. Once he reached
London, he would call Rak and
explain to her that all he desired was a quite wedding without the weirdos getting
on his nerve. He prayed to God that she would understand his feelings and pardon
him.
. There
he sat, alone in the train, a lump rising in his throat as the train moved away
from the town. He thought about all the eccentric people he had met, their rather extravagant yet spontaneous affection
and his face lit up with a faint smile.
He now gradually grasped
the meaning of Tolerance & Flexibility. Five days in this country and the
people and their ways were already
influencing him, he reasoned.
As he watched the terrain go by, he realized that he was
actually missing the crackpots. Missing the frenzy , missing the excitement, missing
out the affection. His smile grew wider.
So, Kris convinced
himself by getting off at the next station and heading back to Rak.
As he walked back towards his room the lights came on in
the dark hallway and there stood Rak,
angry and very upset.
"So you thought of packing up? …. Without me “ She hissed.
"But….but.. I’m
back ” He stammered.
"Don’t try to charm me, I know what you were plotting,"
she accused.
"How could I desert you , all my thoughts steer me
back to you." He mumbled, .
"I know my relatives were a bit unbearable for
you," she said
"Unbearable? They are insufferable! “He guffawed, planting
a quick kiss on her cheek knowing well that he was absolved.
"No surreptitious meeting before marriage” giggled bong
aunty gliding past them with a box of sweets in her hands.
"We will call off the celebrations if you desire"
She whispered with some sadness and continued, "you don't have to do abscond
like this....,"
No “I want to...," Kris assured her “really want to” he stammered.
The wedding was a
grand affair , with a cacophony of squeals , laughter & chatter : “Kina sohaṇa laṛa,” “Phulani maḷa
kyaeṁ che”, “saṅgiteapakaraṇannaḷ
vayikkuka,” “Upaharera jhuṛi
aenuna,” “Getti melam,Getti melam” .The groom danced to the tunes of pulsating Music , competed in the Gorging and ……… even won the contest. He had firmly fallen in love with Avial, Vendekkayi
Poriyal and Pal Payasam .
Wedding over, Kris
and Rak sat at a secluded corner
. .
Kris noticed Rak’s Grandmother suddenly barge into
the hall, holding a bundle of flaming straw. She swished it before him & Rak mumbling what Kris thought were expletives.
“Oh, not again! Is she going to burn us down”? he enquired with Rak. She only smiled. Grandma rubbed
some soot across the eyebrows of newly married couple and went her way
satisfied. Kris was still dazed.
From the room
occupied by the Punju family, came the rhythmic strains of all-time favorite “Mera
laung gawachha” to the soft beat
of the dhol, in the room opposite mallu uncle was in fine fettle rendering the melodious “Kalyaanam Kaliyaanennu” Bong uncle,aunty and daughter were engaged
in an antakshari with “ Laje Ronga holo kone bou go”
Further
away the grand- aunts were singing Raksha
Kalyanam Viabhogamae, Krishnamurthy
Kalyanam Vaibhogamae
