Our story is straight out of the Bollywood movies – “Chennai express”
and "2 States" (though in the reverse). I am a Punjabi girl married
to a Tamilian boy. However, unlike these movies, convincing our families was
not a hard task and both sides readily agreed to go ahead with our alliance.
The wedding preparations brought out stark cultural differences. My
husband, hailing from Tamilian Brahmin roots, strictly said no for non-vegetarian
food, dance and drinks on the wedding day for the sake of conservative elders
in his family. They had agreed to have the wedding ceremony in Punjabi style. Many
in his family were looking forward to the great Punjabi wedding which does not
start early in the morning like Tamilian weddings but promises to go on till
the wee hours of dawn. Any true Punjabi can spontaneously dance and they just
need an excuse to party. Weddings
provide a perfect opportunity to celebrate. So we had already decided to have a
3-D’s (Dance, dinner and drinks) Cocktail party before the wedding day.
The groom's side had requested for the wedding in pleasant weather and
not peak winter time in Delhi, so that their relatives would be comfortable.
Hence we fixed our wedding for February expecting it to be neither too cold that
the Chennaites are stuck indoors, nor too hot the Punjabi brethren can’t enjoy their
dancing. However, that year, especially on our Cocktail day there was a chilly breeze
blowing which made it extremely cold. On one side my husband’s uncles were
sitting before the heaters with shawls wrapped around their heads, drinking hot
soup to keep them warm. While on the other side my cousins were walking around
in backless and halter blouses with their saris, completely unaffected by the
cold.
The cocktail scene was completely unexpected. Scotch and wine was
pouring out and half of the groom’s side also had a glass in their hands. They
had come up with this way of beating the cold and mingling with the Punjabi
“spirit” of partying. The DJ was playing typical Bollywood music (Om shanti Om
and Jab we met tracks were popular then) and whole of groom’s side was on the
dance floor. In Punjabi weddings, it doesn’t matter what the lyrics of songs
are; it only matters that the music is on high volume. But the Tamilians, fans
of melodious Carnatic music, were all swooning away to these loud tracks. My
husband himself was surprised to see that his family liked to dance but was not
given such an opportunity before. My friends and family barely got a chance to
get on the dance floor, but well, they were happily swaying to the music
wherever they were standing.
The groom’s side, inspired by Bollywood movies (the likes of Hum saath
saath hai), had prepared elaborate performances for the Punjabi sangeet event. True
to their upbringing, they had meticulously planned and prepared detailed
introductions of all their family members with a song dedicated to each person.
In contrast, we had just prepared a series of dance performances by all family
members where the motive was just to dance. In fact, my cousins warned us
earlier, that we will come on stage when we called them for their turn but
leave the stage only when they want to.
The next day was the wedding. Reception of Baraat was given as 7pm on
the wedding invites and I had told my husband to come by 7:30pm. In Punjabi
weddings Baraats are known to reach an hour or two after the given time due to
last minute delays, dancing time in the procession or simply to make a grand
late entry. However, on my wedding, at 6:45pm, while my dad and uncles were
looking at last minute arrangements at the venue, my mom and aunts and cousins
were on the way to reach the venue, the Baraat arrived!!! You can imagine the
hustle-bustle that ensued with the Baraat arriving for a Punjabi wedding, not
just on time, but before time. One of their cars had got lost on the way and
they decided to wait for it and come together otherwise, they would have been
even earlier. My husband later told me that, on the preceding day of the
cocktail, they had got slightly late and a family conference had been held
therefore to ensure everyone “reported” on time for the wedding day.
The contrast in dressing styles was evident. Punjabi side clad in pretty
vibrant colours in different shades, dressed up as if it’s their own wedding,
adorning their best polki and diamond sets, with perfect hair and make-up in
place. Other side in simpler yet elegant kanjeevaram silks with gold temple
jewellery, big bindis and minimal make-up. Infact, while Punjabi women were wearing
such varied shades that men may not even know names of (coral, crimson, teal
and what not), some women on the groom’s side ended up wearing the same shade
of blue saris almost seeming as if they were following a pre-decided dress code
for the wedding.
It has been almost 9 years since our marriage and our caste differences
have rarely come in the way of bliss. I am yet to learn how to make the perfect
sambhar. He looks forward to Punjabi gatherings where he can chill out. I still
need my spoon to eat rice. He is yet to develop a taste for makki di roti and
sarsaon da saag. He calls the shots when we have to attend official events, but
I decide the time to go for other parties. Much like the differences in our
personalities, we have very different approaches to parenting our 4 year old
son. My husband disciplines him by being stricter, whereas I am more patient trying
to explain why we were not letting him do something. The punch, twists and
sweetness of this cocktail of differences ensures a “great marriage high”.
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