Many people will tell you, and I’ve highlighted the point a few times, that India is really about 20 countries combined in to one. Of course there are cultural norms that permeate across the various regions and states. The underlying similarities help to solidify the sub-continent into one encompassing India. I guess it is similar to any large country even in the U.S. where each geographic region has idiosyncrasies, but comprise of a whole United States. However, I couldn’t help but notice the apparent differences here as I attended two completely different Indian weddings.
The matrimonial path in India may be the single most important event in a person’s life. There is an overwhelming amount of pressure and emphasis from the family to get married. Arranged marriages are still common, but with a more modern day twist. It’s more of a suggestive arranged marriage, wherein a person’s parents will recommend several significant others from families of “good background”. So for instance, the man’s parents will say they know several girls from different family friends that he should try and date. Then the girl’s parents will also agree that the two meet, and “see how it works”. This allows for some option in the matter of marriage, yet at the same time a bit more arranged than we would think.
Of course “love marriage” is very normal and common these days too. Both are respectable ways to go about the inevitable marriage process. In either instance it’s also quite common to be married at a young age (at least young in my opinion). Most people are married around 25 if not pretty much settled on being married by that point without having gone through a hugely formal procession.
Putting the demographic aspect of marriages in India aside, the ceremony itself is a huge spectacle. I attended both a Punjabi (North West, near Delhi) and a Bengali (Far East, Calcutta region) wedding. My understanding of weddings in India was they were these huge affairs with thousands of people, elaborately dressed, and lasting several days. In many ways, this is true, and I’ll start with the Punjabi wedding to paint a clearer picture.
So I was actually invited as a date to this wedding which was held in Delhi. I was going with a friend from work (who’s currently based in London), who in turn was school friends with the bride to be. The groom is Sikh, meaning he’s one of those guys who wears a turban and has a beard. It’s a separate belief system from Hindu’s with a lot more involved than just the turban, but I won’t go in to all the details at this point. The bride is Hindu, but her family comes from the Punjab region which is the holy land of Sikhism. Long story short, they both studied in the U.K. for many years, and like many Indians recently moved back home to begin their new life together.
The nature of this type of wedding is more in tune with my idea of a traditional India wedding. I’m the perfect example; I didn’t know either party involved, was just a random guest tagging along as a date, but was welcomed with open arms. What I’m getting at is that at these weddings almost anyone is invited. I was staying on my own in Delhi, but when I showed up to the first nights events I was welcomed right in by the grooms father, quickly showed to the bar, and was highly encouraged to eat some snacks and start dancing. Also, due to the couple’s backgrounds, which I gathered to be quite well off, there were people from all over the place: China, UK, Germany, US, Hungary, Singapore, Thailand, Morocco, and all regions of India.
The wedding itself was held over three days. I mention showing up for the first day because that was really only the beginning. It began on a Thursday night in which the “Sangeet” ceremony is held. This essentially means the reception and party. It’s a bit backwards from our western weddings in which the party is held after the actual wedding. However, here the dancing and drinking are done up front probably to kick things off the right way.
The Sangeet was held in one of the fanciest hotels in Delhi, so I was ready for big things. At this point the only requirement was to wear a suit and tie, which was easy enough for me. After showing up I quickly ran in to my friend, which was no easy feat seeing how there were about 700 people there all milling about eating and drinking. In the middle of the reception was a huge dance floor to accommodate the Indian affinity for the seemingly reckless, always ambitious, slightly seductive, and extremely entertaining dancing. This essentially entails some loud upbeat Bollywood type tunes where everyone has a bit different interpretation of how to move their body correctly. The dancing will almost always involve some fantastic hip moves, by both men and women, and then some funky arm flapping, twisting or clapping. Needless to say, I caught on pretty quick. The best part is the lack of discern for actual technique. I’m by no means a rhythmically inclined individual, but the level of grace means nothing in India as long as you’re enjoying it personally. With this previous knowledge of free reign on the dance floor, I encouraged a couple other seemingly shy foreigners to jump in and sweat it up amongst the Indians who started dancing from the get go.
The best part of that night was when the younger contingent of both families went up on stage with the band, and broke out in to choreographed Bollywood dance. There were several separate routines done by both sides with plenty of hip-shaking and a few risqué maneuvers. This was something that would never happen back home, and again harps on the jovial and outgoing manner of the Indian culture. I was speaking with a German guy about the whole event as we cooled down over a few Kingfisher’s at a side table. We were both elated at the feeling of mixing it up with the Indian’s on their turf, and agreed that the Western style wedding can feel a bit stuffy in comparison. There were no speeches, and instead a light-hearted commemoration of the bride and groom through some fantastic dance steps. Despite my criticism of Western weddings, I don’t know if I’d engage in something similar in my wedding, but it’s still nice to be a part of a different experience.
So the first day ended in a whirlwind of a couple last songs, a few more drinks, and cleaning up the elaborate buffet of any food remnants. The whole process of getting married can take some time, so in true Indian fashion people come and go as they please. I found that I was one of the last stragglers, and people didn’t leave out of disrespect, but it’s almost a courtesy to come and go at your own will.
The same was true for the second day (Friday’s) events. Everyone of close relation to either family joined at the groom’s house for an extensive lunch. Again, there was a huge spread of food and drinks on the lawn accompanied by several lounge areas and tables. The significance was for the Mehendi celebration, in which the bride and all her relations receive flowery henna tattoos up their hands and wrists. It’s supposed to look almost like a vine or ivy that wraps the from the palm, across the fingers, up the back of the hand and the whole wrist. The bride’s is always the most elaborate, and it certainly looked so as it took her about 2 hours to complete.
In the meantime, all the men and those not associated with the bride, gorged on more food and several cocktails. Since it was a more casual affair jeans and a shirt were perfectly acceptable, while most of the women wore traditional saris or a salwaar kameez. This again was a relaxed invitation to come and go as you please. It might have something to do with the Indian sense, or rather lack of sense, of time. I’m not really sure.
Additionally, I was not even of any relation to the families, and clearly neither were a large proportion of the 300 or so people there. While there was no further dancing, many of the women grouped together and began singing what I was told were Punjabi marriage songs. The idea is for the female members of the families to sit around and provide some entertainment, without the real need for an audience. Inevitably a few guys hopped around in step to the tunes, but all in all people strolled around making conversation and of course always eating.
Afterwards, there was a small “family” (I use the term loosely because it always involves so many people) gathering for dinner, where in the bride and groom’s parties separate. More food, drinking, singing, and a bit of casual dancing. I think you can sense repetition here.
Saturday morning was the big affair and official ceremony. As part of the bride’s side we were told to arrive at the Sikh temple at around 9/930. Foolish of me to think that was the actual time people were going to show up, so I of course arrived before literally everyone else except the bride’s father. It was no problem though as I got adjusted to my swanky Indian outfit. I was decked out in a full gold kurta with a bit of embroidery around the chest, and matching pants that are supposed to be about 10 inches to big in the waist, but tight at the legs. I’m not sure why, but it is certainly comfortable. I also managed to find myself a nice pair of Indian dress shoes complete with a full curl in the toe. Needless to say I was feeling good, and as the other guests arrived I fell right in to place with everyone.
The whole bride’s party eventually arrived, and the process of waiting occurs in which the groom prances down the street to come meet his bride and eventually take her away after the ceremony. This means he rides on a horse accompanied by the youngest male member of his family, and escorted by a full procession of musicians that march in step as the family dances around everywhere. It’s a sort of mini-parade, but with tons of color and very loud. Fortunately, it’s completely acceptable to join in being from the bride’s side, so several of us ran up the street to meet the parade, and danced or at least joined in walking our way back to the temple.
The ceremony itself was no longer than an hour, after everyone was seated on the ground inside. However, you couldn’t help get the feeling that very few people were paying attention the whole time. There were a few cell phones that went off, a couple old ladies in the back were gabbing a bit, and all in all no one was very focused. I think living in a world where you’re constantly surrounded by other people the expectation is that these things happen, and there’s no sense worry about it all.
The bride eventually made an appearance, after most people were seated. She certainly drew attention, but again it wasn’t the sort of turn you head around, stay at her as she comes up the aisle type thing. She was dressed in a beautiful red and gold sari, draped perfectly around her and covered ever so slightly by a red veil. Her face was pristine, and I understand now when woman say they have to go “put their face on”. She literally wore a mask in comparison to her features from the day before; heavy black curvaceous eyes giving an aggressive and appealing contrast to her perfectly smooth face and cheeks. Her red lips shinned in unison with her outfit accompanying the gold jewelry hanging from her hair and ears. Her arms were weighed down with several elaborate gold bands, with a small gold ball swinging from the largest on each wrist. She stepped slowly to the altar, and her adorning jewelry jingled in step as she cautiously bent over to sit down next to her soon to be husband. Her fragile outer layer hid nothing of the seriousness on her face, as this was the time her life would truly change from everything she knew.
The ceremony itself consisted of several prayers in Punjabi (which few people spoke let alone family members) accompanied by singing and drum playing. The couple had to stand up and walk around the altar four separate times, each time the man led while the bride clung to a rope that was draped over his shoulder. The symbolism of this is very significant as it expresses the traditional Indian mindset of man before woman. I can think of several women who might have a thing or two to say about that, but the reality is that the culture embraces this even for this bride who has experienced so much outside of India, and been provided with an excellent education. No matter how one views this circumstance, marriage is extremely sacred in India and the traditions will always hold.
To harp further on this point, the post ceremony celebration was held nearby in a huge outdoor venue. This was by far the biggest gathering, wherein many hundreds more people joined that weren’t at the actual wedding. As you may have guessed by now, the food and drinks were over the top, but actually only minimal dancing was to be seen. The point I want to highlight was that at the end, the groom takes the bride away from her family and back to his. In this case they drove in a new car rather than on horse, but the significance was not lost. The bride’s mom was not to be seen as she was beside herself. The father and sister were overly emotional, as was the bride, because traditionally speaking this is when she leaves her family forever to join her husband’s. Even though in modern times she will obviously see her family again, she still technically lives with her new family and especially new mother. From there on, she ceases to be anything other than a member of her husband’s lineage, which is a difficult concept to grasp.
That was a very long winded summary, but there were so many intricate events and details to mention that I wanted to provide as full of a picture as possible. All in all this wedding was amazing. It varied in many ways from my Western concept of a wedding, but many of these were largely positive. I certainly did not go hungry or lacking of a good time.
Moving on to wedding number two. This was a Bengali wedding in Calcutta, and actually for someone I knew well from our New York office. Many of the guests were also part of the company, which was nice to see them. The big difference here was the more intimate yet casual feel to everything. For starters, the wedding party consisted of maybe 50 people total. It was meant only for close friends and immediate family. In that sense, it felt much more like a Western wedding, but alas with a little Indian spice added in.
The wedding itself was only a one day affair, but that literally meant a whole day of rituals. This time I was part of the groom’s side, and we were all dressed in full Indian attire meeting the rest of the family in the groom’s apartment by early afternoon. There was a priest on hand at the small apartment to bless the groom in preparation for his departure down marriage row. Some Bengali chants were said, and the women in the family sat around him making a soft wailing noise in which the mouth forms a slight “o” shape and the tongue moves back and forth making small reverberations. Yes, it certainly caught me and some of the other foreigners off guard at first.
Then we set off to the actual place the ceremony was to be held. It was nothing more than a small guest house where the bride and groom have to be separated before the full ceremony. They greet guests from both parties the whole night until the actual ceremony begins at about 11pm. So that meant lots of down time as people shuffle in and out, as well as a chance to grab some dinner. Seeing how alcohol was permitted, we all snuck in a few drinks on the bus ride over as well as periodically throughout the night while the parental eyes weren’t watching. However, there was no music or dancing to partake in so this just led to everyone feeling a bit drowsy before things really kicked off closer to midnight.
Similarly to the Punjabi wedding, the Bengali bride was full decked out in full ornamental garb. The contrast of gold and red interwoven in her clothing and against the backdrop of her jet black hair was certainly striking. She wore what I assume is a more traditional accessory in which a gold chain connected her nose piercing to her ear, and while abhorrent to think about is actually extremely becoming in this context. She also sat quite rigidly in her chair, trying to hold back too large a smile in fear of ruining her marital shell of beauty. I sensed a serious tone with her as well, but a general comfort probably due to the smaller gathering and more casual atmosphere in general.
The ceremony was actually held on the rooftop, underneath a huge tent. This time the groom and bride’s father sat underneath the “altar”, and as tradition goes, the father hands over the rights and responsibilities of his daughter to the groom. Here again the ladies of both families at seemingly random instance broke out in their wailing, and the priests (one for the father one for the groom) hummed and chanted through several different tunes. To put it nicely, this was a very long and drawn out process, and with that expectation in mind you were free to come and go, chat as loudly as you’d like, even have a drink or snack. Being an observer was more like watching TV on your couch than a full blown wedding. Throughout much of the process the groom would shoot smiles around the crowd as he clearly understood it would take time, and he also probably didn’t know how all the intricacies of eating a small piece of food followed by lighting some incense represented him getting married.
Eventually the bride made an appearance. She was meant to cover her face by holding two leaves in front of her as traditionally speaking the man would never catch sight of his bride until the actual wedding day. She was then lifted up by members of her family, and carried in a circle around the groom seven times. In tune with the lighthearted nature of the affair, both the groom and bride were laughing, and the guys carrying her were chuckling along. The traditional symbolism was there, but without the seriousness it probably once held. After the two were finally seated facing each other, the groom was at last allowed to see his bride’s face. From there they were meant to hold hands while the priest blessed them for at least 15 minutes. With this step completed, they then had to proceed to put out a small fire with what looked like a huge bowl of puffed rice. Here the groom assists the bride as she douses the fire (somewhat unsuccessfully), and from what I could next tell they were officially married.
At this point it was nearing 2am, but of course we weren’t done yet. From that point on we, as the friends and young relatives, were meant to stop the couple from consummating the marriage and spending their first night alone together. In order to accomplish this we stayed up a majority of the night lounging on the main floor of the guest house singing any type of song or generally joking around. We did manage to sneak in a few unwanted spirits, which helped in the process. As people started loosening up, the real Indian side came out as song after song turned in to a full chorus. I of course didn’t know much of what was said, but everyone was having a great time. Also, in true Indian fashion, they encouraged everyone to serenade the couple with something, even me. I tried to deflect it for as long as possible, but the Indian persistence is hard to turn down, and I eventually belted out some poor notes to the Beatles with an Indian colleague. This was by no means an Asian karaoke type event, but just purely sitting around without any music to accompany us. In fact, I think it made the whole thing more intimate and enjoyable, but may not have succeeded without some liberalizing of the vocal chords.
I guess the point of it all was there were so many traditions meant to be upheld, but the significance is lost in modern day India. In each of the small steps there were priests to help guide the process along, otherwise I doubt anyone really knew what to do. The one thing that still rang true was the bride leaving her family, and moving in with her husband’s. I was not privy to see the actual moment take place as it was not as formal in this Bengali wedding. However, the next day we were invited for dinner at the now husband’s place with bride in tow, and her family was not present.
Both were very enjoyable from a cultural perspective and simply entertaining as weddings should be. I think there are certain aspects I’d even consider incorporating into my wedding (woe the day), especially the food and the outfits. Differences abound in India, but it all seems to fit under one roof, which continues to impress.
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| At the Sikh temple waiting for the ceremony with my date Jin. We had to
cover our heads in accordance with the beliefs, and there weren't any
spare turbans lying around. |
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| First night at the Sangeet, cooling off after some dancing. |
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| Toasting at the post-wedding lunch. |
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| Simon and I in Calcutta, waiting for our taxi at 5am. |
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| A whole crew waiting to return to the hotel for some rest after a long night. |
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| Pre-wedding photo for all the groom's men. |
