The Great Indian Wedding

Forget the Bard and his dramas. The Big Fat Indian Wedding is the new Great Indian Drama. Reel or real, weddings are great entertainers for the ardent observer (count me in). All the dramas, individual demands, gossips, baronial feastings, namastes and aur-bade-dino-baads, full-time time-pass for our bhabhijis.

It's amusing how a simple wedding can so vibrantly differ in its aspects.

There's the auntyjis. Ah! the epic auntyjis. (Don't call them aunty. Learn from other people's mistakes). So heavily laden with gold (I don't really get the glitter about gold), jewels so exquisite, sarees so heavy that you're afraid they'll tumble any minute now, and turn into a major avalanche of destruction. But they don't. They walk upright in their infinitely tall heels as if they could set a ramp on fire with their grace and élan, the pallus right on their arms swaying and creating whirlwinds all about.

Then our uncles. Chachaji, tauji, mamaji, mausaji... Wearing the same old suit they did in uski behen ki beti ki saas ke bhai ke bete ki shaadi mein. I don't get why men don't buy new clothes, either. Half of them are tunn. Drunk in the heavenly imported wines from Scotland, Poland, Russia and lord knows where else from. The rest are so busy in discussing the stocks, an IIM graduate gets complexed.

The bacche. I call them the 'chillads'. Seriously! They are of no more use than loose change. Screaming, howling, scampering all about the house, those little spawns of Satan get into your room, upset your dog, turn over everything better than robbers can and give you a headache for free!

With everyone running helter-skelter, the bandwala is always late and the halwai always lazy. The decoration wala bhaiya keeps wandering off until the father of the house loses his marbles. The dog is confused and aggravated as he watches so many ridiculous strangers trespass over the territory he once ruled. The infants scream and scream and scream "MUMMMYYYYYYYY" even when the stupid urchins are right in their mothers' arms. There's lack of food, lack of transport and the electricity board decides to take out it's revenge on you right on D-day.

Even the bride regrets, "Why didn't I just run away when I had the chance?"

Me?

I sit back on the sofa and watch these people run around crazed and befuddled, and laugh at them. "Fret all you want. I, for one thing, won't invite you to MY wedding.. "