The Great Indian Wedding Tamasha

The Girls point Of View

Unlike several other countries in the world, the meaning of ‘wedding’ in the Indian context is very different. It encompasses every other factor, other than the willingness of the boy or the girl. In the ‘arranged wedding’ scenario, a concept largely ridiculed in the west, the boy and the girl are simply expected to wed as strangers and then fall in love. If any differences or incompatibilities arise later... the duo is expected to reconcile to them within four walls. Because like the couple once obliged to fall in love with the person of their parent’s choice, they are also expected to tow their lines in terms of what KIND of person they have to get used to.

The learning of making a marriage work is the learning of a lifetime. You live with your ‘decision’ everyday. Wake up with them, sleep with them and grow with them. The learning might be sweet or it might be bitter, but it is of your own making. And it shall always remain that way. Everybody makes mistakes in their youth and the Indian parents need to allow their kids to make those ‘mistakes’ once. They might work or they might not. But there is never the added pressure of not having other avenues or exits. These ‘mistakes’ teach one to be independent in life, and responsible, for all things that happen to them or are made to happen.

A marriage is more than just about maintaining social standing or stature. And children are more than just mere badges that parents can pin-up on their shoulders. Nor are children means for parents to live the kind of lives that they never lived on their own. The two parties in a married couple eventually have to cope with their own lives, and the easier it is made for them, the better.

Let me start with a day in my life

As a 25-year-old Punjabi/Indian girl, I usually spend this part of the year miserable for reasons not involving the my work load. This is the wedding season, or as us unmarried Punjabi girls call it "Oh sh*t". This is because we have to go to the weddings of other Punjabi people, who don't quite understand why a 25-year-old girl is unmarried. You could have an as-financially-lucrative-as-Google humour website filled with photos of the horror-struck faces of Punjabi aunties when you tell them that you're not just unmarried, but voluntarily unmarried.



Sure weddings are joyous occasions, and I feel nothing but happiness for the people whose big day it is (generator-van owners), and their families. But I've seldom been to an Indian wedding where anyone looks happy at all. Parents look like they're worried about upsetting "important" guests, unimportant guests look like they're throwing airs in the hope that someone will call them important, and after touching the feet of every single person in a six kilometre radius, the bride and groom look like they want to spend their honeymoon at the chiropractor's.

The problem with most weddings I'm dragged to during this season is this: my presence there, like most of the other 4,300 guests, is irrelevant and unnecessary. I met the bride once, when I was six, and I'm pretty certain she was the fat fool who pulled the head off my Barbie figure. And yet, here I am, waiting in line so I can get a picture with her.

The point, and the problem, is this; the Indian wedding is seldom about the bride or groom or anything they want. No, the wedding is where the family gets to settle social scores and show off how well-connected and wealthy it is by inviting every single person they have ever interacted with. Indian weddings are the only ones I've ever been to where the parents have to stand on either side of the couple, and explain to them who the people coming up to meet them are. "This is Raju Uncle, he used to be our neighbour."

"This is Meeta aunty, she was in school with your mother." And so it goes on

Speaking of which, for a country that harps on about food security, the spread at Indian weddings would make the average American cringe. I once went to a wedding that had separate South Indian, Italian, Marwadi, Chinese, chaat, and (I quote) Maxicen counters.All in all there were 251 dishes as a part of the main course and 101 dishes in the desert section. And this does not include the starters or the soups.

Weddings are also an important networking opportunity for the Matrimonial Mommy Mafia, the group of bored mothers that knows every eligible single person in town. They scope these weddings like snipers in diamond-sets, and when they find you, they ask if you're married. Pro-tip; always say yes.

If you say no, you are suggesting that you are single, and by extension, incomplete. They will go looking for your mother, and then ask her why you're not married. I usually avoid this situation by telling them what I do for a living. When they realise I'm  a "working", they stare at me like I have a tumour on my forehead and then slowly back away. Works every time.

So all I'm saying is, can we please stop with the ten-thousand-invitee weddings? If for nothing, just for the traffic and noise-pollution levels. I don't want to send evil vibes your way from the road for 45 minutes, because that's how long I'm stuck outside the venue.

But enough of my cribbing. This is a joyous time. I wish everyone getting married this season the very best for the rest of their lives. Except the girl who broke my Barbie doll.