The Joy of Indian Weddings

The institution of marriage is widely accepted around the world as the pillar of any monogamous relationship. Young women crave it and young men don’t know any better. Beyond the inherent marriage bullshit, Indians also have to put up with a meaningless barrage of customs and rituals, like walking around the fire pit 7 times to signify that if the wife ever misbehaved, into the fire she goes. Let’s look at the intricacies of a Hindu marriage. Usually a four to five day event of lavish spending, these productions usually provide 800-1200 people a place of social interaction: a time for the ladies to showboat and strut their best new overpriced, gaudy outfits/jewelry; a time for the men to drink for free. All this, of course, is captured by a team of smile-happy Nazi photographers.

For you “ABCD’s” (God I hate that acronym), I’ve put together a short guide of what happens during the course of a typical wedding weekend, in chronological order:

Prayer (Ganesha Pooja) – Of the eight dozen pooja’s you will have to sit through, this one is definitely the most important. Why is it so important? Hmmm… Who gives a shit? The priest is the only one who really knows what’s going on and he’s been paid to make sure God approves of the wedding. While being drunk at most pooja’s is looked upon negatively, just be discrete about it.

Tilak – Sacred mark of auspiciousness applied on forehead of the bride and groom with sandal paste (Chandan), sacred ashes (Bhasma), or turmeric powder (kumkum). If you happen to run out of these supplies on wedding day, the ashes from a cigarette or cigar will do just fine.

Music/songs (Sangeet) – I feel sorry for the bride-to-be on this one. A sangeet is when a bunch of delusional overweight aunties get together in saris and howl as loud as they can, each trying to one-up the other, all while thinking that they are creating actual music. Then the uncoordinated dancing/clapping begins, which sadly is the only exercise these ladies will have all year. But that all goes to hell because afterwards they gorge on a buffet line of fried Indian goodies and sweets.

Procession & Reception (Barat & Swagat) – This is the beginning of the special day. The morning of the wedding, a few city blocks are closed off so everybody on the groom’s side can walk outside in the blistering heat for a procession to the bride’s family (where they await in an air-conditioned banquet hall). The hung-over groom is the center attraction. Covered in flowers and with a confused smile on his face, he is probably thinking “Why the fuck am I sitting on a horse?” Now ask yourself what would make the morning better? Did you answer Indian music piercing the skies, accompanied by a harmoniously incompetent guy playing a Dhol (Indian drum)? Well you answered right! Dozens of people are surrounding the groom, dancing around like they are on fire, usually anchored by an uncle on the brink of his 3rd heart-attack. What results is a big moving, sweaty, early-morning dance-club. The rest of the convoy, realizing the absurdity of the situation, is walking nearby counting the minutes for it all to be over. The neighboring streets are filled with a mix of local white people. These onlookers are soaking in the alien culture, taking pictures of the idiot-parade and probably discussing “I don’t know hun'… But I wreckon’ they are trying to make it rain. Git the kids” After finally arriving to the hall, the typical rituals takes place of trading flower garlands, applying more red stuff to foreheads, and, if state law permits, sacrificing a young virgin girl in appease the Gods.

Wedding Ceremony (Vivah, Shaadi) – The bride, groom, various members of both sides, and a priest are seated in front of a holy fire. The priest conducts the wedding with various ceremonial sequences, all while reciting prayers in Sanskrit. But since nobody knows Sanskrit, the Pundit could very well be singing “I'm Every Woman” by Whitney Houston. Who knows? Doesn’t matter, because nobody in the crowd is paying attention anyways: the aunties are busy gossiping about some shit another auntie said last dinner party, the uncles talking about the hotel industry and the political landscape in India, the girls are talking about who’s outfit is the prettiest and how the bride is having a bad hair day, and the guys are discussing who is the least un-attractive girl from the other side who they are gonna unsuccessfully hit on after 4-5 drinks tonight.

I haven’t been through the ceremony first hand and I’m dreading the day that I have to wake up early morning to go through an obstacle of random meaningless tribal rituals. Nevertheless years from now I will be required to sit in the mandap for hours at end, having a stream of thoughts like: What in the hell is the half-naked priest saying? Why can’t this shit be in English? Why is there a fire-pit in front of me? I hope my outfit doesn’t catch on fire. When is this damned thing gonna be over? Why is it so god damn hot? There needs to be maximum weight to legally wear a sari. I’m hungry. I wonder what my friends talking about. Damn it…My legs fell asleep. I should have brought my iPod. I wonder if the cake will be good. We should have eloped to Vegas. She better not be too tired for sex tonight.

Vidaii – Wedding’s over and last goodbyes take place. This is the tear-filled moment in which the daughter does not “belong” to her parents anymore. To make this truly meaningful, I personally think that right before the girl enters the car, the father of the groom should brand her neck with a cattle-prod and give the bride a constant reminder of her new family name, thus truly exchanging ownership. Maybe I'll start the trend at my wedding.

Every Indian subculture has put their own little spin on weddings and my favorite are the Gujarati and Punjabi's. Gujarati weddings have a thing called Garba. Where all the physically-able people pair up and dance barefoot with sticks! YAAAY! Doesn’t that sound fun? To paint a better picture, a Garba is what would result if you lock a bunch of socially awkward virgins in a big room with blaring loud music and give them a bunch of sticks and a full keg. Punjabi’s weddings are the only ceremonies where you’ll see an 89 year old grandmother handle her liquor better than most college-going men. Just as it should be, drinking seems to be an integral part of the festivities, but beyond that being intoxicated is the only way that Bhangra is remotely entertaining.

As I’ve mentioned before, Indian weddings are obnoxiously large, blatantly lavish, and mind-numbingly tedious. If it weren’t for a little thing of beauty called an “open bar”, surely the suicide rate at these functions would hit triple digits. The problem is, they are all the same. Just once I would like to see a midget named Neal get shot out of a cannon during one of those boring speeches. Being a man of the future, I’ve decided to have my wedding in my living room and have it webcasted LIVE for anyone who wants to watch it. Better yet, I’ll pay a body-double to sit in for me for all the ceremonial bullshit while I go workout or do something actually productive. I’ll come back when it’s time to cut the cake.