A Wedding Is A Wedding, All over the World
Preena’s wedding took place in a Fort Palace atop a hill in a remote area of Rajasthan called Neemrana, Bought for $6,000 about ten years ago, the ruins were “restored”/re-built and now functions as a hotel and a venue for weddings. The structure seemed to have grown upon itself, with steep staircases, narrow passageways, and endless plateaus and unbelievable vista to be found on every level. One would be hard pressed to suppress fantasies of life in the fifteenth century behind the walls of the lavish Fort. A man with the craziest moustache I have ever seen a woman who never kept her face under a veil played traditional Raj music, as the guests filed in wearing thick silk saris, bejeweled headpieces and brightly colored turbins. The ceremony itself was held under a marigold covered chupa (for lack of another word). The immediate family removes their shoes and sits on the small platform, while the rest of the guests spread out in an amphitheater style seating arrangement. With the priest inside the small tent with the bride and groom and his back to the audience, it was difficult to hear or see exactly what was going on, though it clearly involved a small fir-pit, a bowl of dry rice and various other symbolic objects. The bride, so heavily decorated in jewelry, floral garlands and almost a hundred metallic bells that had been tied to her bangles, could barely move under the weight of her costume. As the ceremony wore on, cell phones rang in the crowd and people answered them. Others talked amongst themselves and some got up for a walk periodically. After 5 days of events there was a surprising lack of interest in the ceremony itself. Just like a Christian taking of vows, Preena and Brigoo had to answer “hanji” (yes) to a series of marital commitments. Preena, a Harvard professor, had to agree never to go to her parents’ house again unless they came to get her for a visit and never to go to a park alone again, amongst other things which she agreed to with a laugh and a rolling of her eyes. Tradition is paramount here and a modern interpretation of ceremony was not a consideration. Finally we threw flowers at the couple and moved onto eat traditional Raj food in a courtyard overlooking the countryside. The last of the ceremonies was to take place after the meal and before the couple left for the groom’s parents’ house. It is there that they would spend the night. Before departure, the women of the bride’s family sing melancholy songs, that come from the days when they might not see the bride for years after her wedding. With tear filled eyes, she throws rice over her head and the women try to catch it in the their sari’s, not dissimilar from our throwing of the bouquet, though a little less hysterical. The procession moved outside to walk the couple to their car.At the end of the day, Preena’s parents looked exhaustedly at Prarthna, their youngest daughter, wondering how long it would be before they did this all again.