An Overture to an Indian Wedding

by Madan Achar

  Shruthi, the darling daughter of the house, had made a grand entrance accompanied by her husband and her toddler son. She was wearing blue jeans and a collarless purple T-shirt with sunglasses placed on her head, announcing her envious status of being settled in America, the deemed land of paradise. They had flown from Mumbai where Shruthi had stayed with her in-laws for a couple of days. Welcoming hoots, surprised exclamations, and hearty clapping assailed her from all sides as the family moved to receive the sister of the bridegroom whose presence would raise the wedding gaiety by a notch. It was the sister who would be bringing the bridegroom to the wedding canopy with his hand on her shoulders and the traditional silver plate with clothes and coins in her hands. Rekha always held a grouse against her cousin Shruthi for her nonchalant superior air and for gifting her old clothes every year. A couple of years back she had thrown such a tantrum that her mother had finally agreed not to make her wear them. But now in front of all these people, she wanted to rush and hug Shruthi, to be a part of the cynosure and welcome her cousin. Her shyness made her stay put. Sumathi aunty part rescued and part showed off her daughter and her young family while steering them to the spacious bedroom (Shruthi's) where they were to rest before joining the wedding revelry.

  As the day wore on with the approaching evening, the merriment in the house was reaching its nadir with guests filing in and the children engaged in boisterous games. It was further enlivened when a 'Beedi Basava' made a grand appearance complete with his colorfully decorated cow robed in red ochre clothes, smeared with kumkum, tingling belles tied to its horns accompanied by his Nadaswaram which he was blowing with great verve. Shruthi squealed and brought out her one year old son to show him this grand spectacle. Sumathi aunty took the opportunity to point out to whomever that was within earshot that despite staying in America for three years Shruthi was still a homely girl. She was tired of explaining to the guests that Suraj was coming only the evening before his marriage and would be returning the wedding night itself since he had important work to attend at his office. This had only added to his aura, and as a break from the tradition, the bride was visiting the house next evening so that she could spend some time with him. Sumathi aunty was proud of both her US based children, and everyone was encouraged to feel the same.

  A game of rummy followed with tipplers getting to taste foreign scotch that was being quietly distributed on the airy balcony facing the garden. Sudhir Bhat had taken charge since his daily intake habit unofficially designated him as the bartender of ceremonies. Sunil, a distant cousin of Suraj working in a film studio and more known for his colorful lifestyle, became the rummy champion. Those who felt left out owing to being teetotalers and not knowing any cards game that reflected poorly on their social circle, enthusiastically greeted Sunil on winning, since they thought that he was one of them who had stormed the citadel of the high fliers. Even Ranjan had a smile since he had shared a cigarette with Sunil in the hidden bylanes near the house to celebrate his winning of the cards game.

  The long shrill ring of the phone whose handle and dial had brass plating made Sumathi aunty pounce on it knowing who was at the other end. Suraj had called in transit. After her customary talk with her son in an unnaturally loud voice that drew the attention of the guests, in an inspired moment, she hurriedly beckoned Indrani Atte and handed her the phone.

  " Suraj wants to talk to you" A bewildered Indrani Atte grabbed the phone and was aided by Sumathi aunty to adjust the earpiece for proper hearing.

  "Hello..." her timid voice issued forth. Then as a reminder, she added: "It's me Indrani Atte."

  "He knows. Just talk to him." Sumathi aunty encouraged.

  "Hello...How are you?" Suraj's perplexed voice came from far away like a delayed droll.

  " I am fine. When are you coming, son?" Indrani atte was now excited.

  Suraj by now had guessed his mother's impulsive behavior. " I am reaching tomorrow night. Just inform Mamma that I shall take a taxi from the airport. Bye now." The phone clicked.

  "Bye Bye." Indrani atte echoed and measuredly put the phone down. She understood that to be allowed to talk to Suraj on the costly long distance call was a rare honor that had been accorded to her. Bathing in the afterglow, she was suddenly effused to declare, " He is coming tomorrow night, and he is bringing me gifts."

  "Of course he is bringing gifts to everyone, and he is landing tomorrow night." Sumathi Aunty concluded grandly for the listening guests.

  There was light hearted hilarity when Sudhir Bhat already on his sixth large insisted that he wanted to talk to Suraj to request him to stay back for the wedding night and not to miss the connubial bliss. Sumathi aunty feigning maternal anger made a pout at her brother and unable to contain her joy hugged Indrani Atte while Anantha Rao was patting her back out of habit. Sumathi aunty's dread had vanished. Her son was coming for his marriage.

  As the night approached, guests started leaving for their homes or hotel accommodations, which had been booked as per their stature with Sharmila Aunty getting a plush hotel while the government school teachers along with Ranjan, were put up in a nearby hostel.

  Tired to the bones Sumathi Aunty entered Shruthi's bedroom to find her son in law and grandson fast asleep and her daughter making arrangements to follow suit.

  " So how did the day go?" Sumathi aunty wanted the comfort of small talk with her daughter.

  " Great Ma. Arun really had a great time. He was running all around, and now he is fast asleep." Shruthi looked lovingly at her son.

  " That's good. He should sleep well and take good care of him. This is the measles season."

  "Why did you make me fall at Sharmila auntie's feet? Fat blessings she would give? The whole day she was acting like a Queen Elizabeth just because her daughter is in London."

  " I just didn't want her to complain and start her ranting. Anyhow, I have some news for you. I am told her husband Murthy is suffering from oral cancer."

  Shruthi perked up at the news. "Really. Are you sure?" Sumathi aunty nodded her head coyly. A sinful ethereal joy suffused both mother and daughter over the mishap that had befallen Sharmila aunty.

  " Did she speak to you?" Shruthi could hardly contain herself.

  " No No.. I came to know from Vasudha whose relative is a doctor at Bharath Cancer hospital. Sharmila has not told me, and I too am acting as if I don't know anything. I don't want her to think I am being nosey by raising the subject."

  " Correct, as long as she is hiding it why should we act any different. She could have actually admitted to it. It's nothing to be ashamed off." A victor's gleam was oscillating to and fro binding them in sublime happiness. Another's misfortune was a source of strength.

  " Well, it's her choice. Poor Murthy Bhava, he is suffering quietly, anyhow I just want our Suraj's wedding to go smoothly." On that note, mother and daughter bade tender goodnight to each other. Sumathi aunty returned to her room with a strange confidence. After nearly an year of begging, harassing, cajoling her son the wedding was imminent. She felt the satisfaction of a parent who having guided her first born to the right shores of married life could now bask in its aftermath.

  " Bloody communist." Anantha Rao cursed while getting into bed. His paternal co-brother Appaji an advocate by profession and who fancied to be an equal to Anantha Rao had argued that Madam Indira Gandhi was a failure and it was time for Communism to take over the governing of India. The rising moon put a deep silence over the house apart from the occasional moaning by Max who was now tied at the back of the house next to the tamarind tree.

  Haridasa Tanthri, a Brahmin priest from the coastal belt, had arrived at the wee hours of the morning and dressed in his complete spiritual regalia was quietly awaiting the household to gather at the brick kiln, which he and his associate priests had prepared for performing the Yajna. He knew that the bride's family had approached a renowned Sanskrit scholar from Kanchi and was determined to hold his own in all ritualistic proceedings that were to follow. The arrival of the religious p
undit put a semblance of spiritual order in the family gathering, distilling their beliefs and behaviors, conditioned by centuries. Children ran close to the religious preparations and hushed up in deference only to loiter past and start giggling again. At the start of the rituals, they would be put in right earnest to their quiet, orderly standings, piping down their natural zest in respectful allegiance to god and his customs designed by men.

  Sumathi Aunty was hurrying around organizing things utterly chagrined by the delay and consulting Thanthri purohit on every single issue. She was possessed by the same zealous enthusiasm that makes Indian women tuck their sarees to their waist and partake in the ceremonies deriving a satisfaction in the performance, akin to an Opera singer or a ballerina. The priests' fine-tuned to the nuances of their profession that was their sole bread earner engaged the household ladies in zest in various melodramatic acts thus enhancing their prominence that acted as a balm for years of servitude and nothingness that was their part in patricidal families.

  Sudhir Bhat who was a great believer in Lord Ganesha was the first one to arrive for the pooja. Though with puffed eyes owing to the previous night amusement he was bathed fresh and dressed in white shirt and mundu for the holy pooja. It was customary for him to take important decisions by throwing two chits one with a 'YES' and the other with a 'NO' at the feet of his favorite Ganesha idol in the famed Maha Ganapathi temple next to Kukre lake and eyes closed would pick up a chit that was accepted as divine judgment. The Government schoolteachers' parents of Ranjan and Anantha Rao's first cousins were among the early guests to arrive. Both were known to fast on Mondays and Thursdays as an offering to his holiness Guru Raghavendra and wouldn't even touch water on those days. Rekha noticed that Ranjan had not accompanied them and guessed he had not yet woken up. Her mother and Indrani Atte were seated behind the Brahmin priests near the pooja place weaving jasmines both as an offering to the Lord and as an adornment to ladies.

  Haridas Thanthri waited till sizeable members had gathered for the pooja and then indicating to Anantha Rao and Sumathi Aunty to stand next to him poured turmeric coated rice into their hands and started the invocation with open joined palms aimed at the anointed pooja site.

  " On this auspicious day, we have gathered to invoke the blessings of the Lord so that everything goes as desired in the coming days of the wedding. We pray to him to ward off evils and to protect us from harm. By performing this pooja peace and prosperity will be gained and all enemies destroyed. Others jealousy, pettiness will not torment you, and you shall win all your battles. If someone bodes ill will to you, it will be deflected back manifold. Tragedies like accidents, terminal diseases, financial losses will not affect you, and the Lord shall keep you safe. He shall shower you with riches and make your name known far and wide. No social stigma will be attached to anything you do, and you shall always be received with honor. As such let us now resolve to perform this pooja and to appease the Lord Almighty with our devotion." So concluding he signaled at Anantha Rao who had been gravely nodding at his words, to shower the turmeric colored rice at the pooja altar as a sign of the beginning of the ritual. The rest followed suit, and the clatter of turmeric colored rice on the tiled floor heralded the start of the marriage rituals.

  Thus begun the day proceeded through various pooja rites the prasadam of which was savored for lunch and at periodical intervals. When the smoke from the yajna kunda pervaded the entire hall many of the well to do guests abandoned the religious observances taking refuge in the balcony and terraces engaging in gossip. It was their love for Suraj that made Anantha Rao and Sumathi aunty to be seated throughout the entire yajna despite thick smoke hurting their eyes, nose and itching throat. A few faithful remained with them rubbing watery eyes with handkerchiefs. Haridas Thanthri was reeling away Sanskrit shlokas with great gusto.

  Towards late evening Shama the bride came in a Contessa car accompanied by her parents and her five year old niece Suma. She was cheerfully greeted by Sumathi Aunty with an embrace and a kiss and was immediately whisked inside the house to be shown to the curious guests. A good natured awe descended upon the gathering when they saw the dazzling beauty dressed in a stunning green; gold embroidered Chennai silk saree. Bedecked with a sparkling diamond necklace and matching bangles that were apt for the occasion she appeared like a princess of yore. Shama's slender long neck, wide lovely eyes, broad forehead, flush cheeks, and her snow white skin, tinged with the right amount of reddish glow, held the onlookers in rapturous attention. But the endearing thing was the innocence that shone through in her eyes, and the accompanying effervescent little Suma only added to the charm. A Master in fine arts her greetings were impeccable and had the sweetness of a kind hearted angel. Sumathi aunty had scourged the ends of the family chords in finding this envious bride for her only son. Shama's father was a textile tycoon, and their richness only added to the long list of admirable qualities. It was certain that the bride's family would ensure a grand wedding. On Sumathi aunt's request, they had booked the best marriage hall in the city.

  A sense of restlessness was floating around and Sumathi aunty while assuring everyone of her son's imminent arrival had already checked the road half a dozen times, almost willing the ambassador taxi to appear before her eyes with her beloved son. It was when Anantha Rao was regaling his would be in-laws with a past anecdote of Suraj that the taxi had arrived and handing over his luggage to waiting servant hands Suraj had strode in tall and strong surrounded by shrieking children who chanted "The Bridegroom has come. He has come at last." Sumathi aunty ran straight into his arms and finally when she disengaged, her tear filled eyes of joy were a testimony for mother's love and relief. Anantha Rao patted his son's back, and they had a brief hug. It was understood that having returned from America, he would not be soliciting anyone's blessings in the traditional way. Suraj went about exchanging greetings with an American drawl and tried his best to accommodate all the merry wishes that were pouring from all sides. When some of the lesser known relatives tried to endear themselves to him by way of persistent introductions, he received them with a stoic smile. All in all, like a celebrity he walked through the house and was finally ushered towards Shama whom he had only seen in a photo and had heard so much about from Sumathi aunty. There were chuckles all around when Suraj's palpable discomfiture and blushes were evident when he had seen Shama whose beauty had floored him. Shama with her fluttering eyes felt a swelling of happiness when Suraj had wished her a polite hello. She smiled back and remained shy in deference to the guests around who were watching every gesture and commenting knowingly. Sumathi Aunty being the mother sensed an irritation building up in her son and guessing he was tired started guiding him to the master bedroom indicating to everyone that he shall join them after a short rest. She squeezed Shama's hand whispering in her ears that from tomorrow Suraj would be under her care. Shama nodded and blushed radiating joy.

  Once in the bedroom mother and son exchanged relieved smiles before Suraj removed his jacket readying himself to visit the bathroom after his long flight. Sumathi aunty, as usual, fired a torrent of questions at her son to which she received habitual monosyllabic answers. Anantha Rao had come in briefly and after inquiring about his son's well being and advising him to relax had left to attend to the guests. When Suraj was taking his bath Sumathi aunty went about organizing his things, which she was doing after a long time. A motherly smile was on her lips as she rummaged through his luggage and began setting his clothes and other belongings in their designated places. She was aware of Suraj's dislike when she pried his things against which he had protested in his earlier visits home. But on the eve of his wedding, Sumathi aunty had an overwhelming feeling to be a mother to her son. It was while removing his diaries and other books a photo slipped from the pages and fell face down on the floor. As Sumathi Aunty picked it up and turned over a shockwave drained through her as a premonition of disaster. It was a photo of Suraj holding a child and an attractive blonde woman standing next to him, all in a fami
liar family hug. It was the emerald green eyes of the child that made her heart stop. "Ditto Sumathi's eyes." Sharmila aunty would have commented.