Day two (the Baraat and actual wedding ceremony) of the Chandigarh wedding festivities started early. We woke up, ate some delicious granola bars (thank you, Friend IH), and got ready for the day. The men folk had to be at the groom’s house early, to have their turbans tied; so we women stayed an extra hour around the hotel, comparing bangles and decorating ourselves to the nines.
The groom’s house was beautiful, with a bright yard and potted flowers everywhere. It was so nice to see. The house interior had cream-colored walls and beautiful furniture with Indian artwork everywhere. The large dinning room table had a lace cover that seems to be the standard for any Indian household, regardless of what state they were born in, or country of current residency.
The girls joined the guys who were patiently (due to the advent of iPhones and blackberry phones) waiting their turn to have their turban tied. The process was fun to watch. The person doing the tying would scrunch up a huge piece of bright red cloth, and sprinkle it with water (maybe it had starch, too?). He’d then ask the next guy to stand up, and tie a white kerchief on their head. Next, he’d take one end of the red fabric, and the person who would wear it would take the other end. They would stretch the entire distance of the room to straighten the cloth, then spin it into the proper diameter for tying.
It took some time to actually do the tying. With my husband, who was the very last person, he would first wrap one band around his head, sort of like a headband, and then had him put his glasses on over the band. He continued wrapping, trapping the glasses securely inside. Towards the end, he would pull out a metal object, shaped like a pencil, and use it to tuck and smooth out the turban.
For my facebook friends, this process is posted in my newest photo album.
While my husband was being tied, the groom was outside taking photos. He sat, in a magnificent white embroidered outfit, complete with a long sword in a sparkling scabbard (I believe it is traditional for Sikhs to carry swords), while white pearls were tied to his turban.
There was no dancing down the street to the wedding ceremony, nor were we accompanied by drums and horse, which I had thought was the definition of a Baraat. Instead, we all hopped into cars and drove to the Sikh temple.
One of the surprises at the temple were the men’s facial hair accessories. I am used to women decorating their hair, and pulling it up in various ways, but this was the first time I have seen a man do it. The men had turbans on top of their head, and tight little hairnets for their beards. I guess it serves the same purpose as a woman putting her hair up, to be fancy and/or keep it out of the way, but it was something I had never seen before. It looked a bit painful, actually. I wouldn’t want pressure on my chin like that! But I am sure they are used to it. There were turbans of many various colors, and, upon asking; I learned that the groom’s side was in red, and the bride’s in pink. But I also saw other shades of color, too.
When we arrived at the temple, we first went to a grass clearing and watched garlands and presents be exchanged between the two families. I stood a little back, in the shade, a trick I learned from Aunties at a previous wedding. The exchange was rather short, and we all trickled into the basement for breakfast.
Any breakfast with the delightful sweet gulab jamun is good by me, so I was quite happy. There was a nice variety of Indian foods, and we stuffed ourselves silly. We then headed upstairs to the actual wedding ceremony.
In the Sikh temple we are required to cover our heads, so the women used the ends of their saris, or the dupatta (scarf) that is worn with any salwar kameez. We looked like the glamorous women from the 1950’s going for a drive. The women sat cross-legged on the left side of the room, the men on the right. Friend IH and I sat together, chatting happily (it is perfectly okay to talk during wedding ceremonies in India) and playing with the most adorable baby girl imaginable.
The ceremony itself was fun to watch, as I had never been to a Sikh wedding. They had a bright gold structure, sort of similar to the mandap at my own wedding, but very ornate. There was a couch or soft table item under it, and a man behind it. Throughout the ceremony, he kept changing the color of the cloth on the couch/table thing. The bride and groom sat in front of the structure.
The bride looked absolutely amazing. Her back was to us at all times, except for four brief moments, but she kept her head down so it was difficult to see her face. She had a beautiful red and gold lengha, and fantastic jewelry that looked heavy enough to break a non-Indian’s neck. She had red and gold bangles up each arm, and many gold bells around her wrists. Her tikka on her forehead was a large fan, and she even had a nose ring.
It was a very short ceremony. Hymns were sung, and they walked around the structure four times. More hymns were sung. One thing I liked (that I learned from the booklet) was that some of the words spoken were picked, at random, by opening the text. The verses chosen were considered to be appropriate lessons for that day. So I guess, since you never know what page you will open to, any and all lessons are fair game. I thought that was kind of nice. Since you never know what will come to you in marriage!
One thing I didn’t like was the sweet that was served during the actual wedding. It was, according to the booklet, equal parts wheat, sugar, and ghee (butter). It was, according to the Americans, gross and gave us bellyaches.
After the quick wedding, we wandered back to the cars, uncovered our heads, and drove to the lunch venue. All of us were still quite full from breakfast, and queasy from the wedding snack, so the drive wasn’t the most fun part of the trip. We also decided that perhaps the roads weren’t as safe as I had originally thought. Yes, there were painted lines, but since there was (relative to Mumbai) little traffic, the cars were traveling much, much faster than in Mumbai, and passing each other, like maniacs, when there were clearly cars in the other lane. I was terrified we’d wind up in a head-on collision, especially after seeing a car in the ditch, which was completely smashed up. Of course, there were no seatbelts in the car. Terrifying.
But when we arrived- it was beautiful! Decorated in whites and oranges, a huge yard outside of a building had long tables full of food, plenty of seating, and even white couches to lounge in and stare at the bride and groom. We headed toward the fruit/bar area, but noticed plenty of flies buzzing around. There were two schools of thought: Friend IH said that the flies were good, because it meant the food was fresh. My husband says they are bad, because they probably had just landed on cow manure or some other delightful thing and would make us sick. I ate the fruit. My disposition didn’t change any.
We soon realized that there was seating indoors, and proceeded to secure a table large enough for our group of nine. Inside was quite entertaining. An incredibly drunk man decided to sit at our already crowded table. Note that he was already three sheets to the wind. Then, while proceeding to have conversations with each of us (many of his questions repeated), he commandeered a bottle of vodka from a very polite (and patient!) waiter with a bar cart, and poured himself a drink. He probably filled the glass half full, of just vodka, and then argued with the waiter as to how much tonic (or whatever clear mixer it was) to add. Apparently, the waiter added a bit too much. Astonished, we watched him drink the whole drink, and proceed to make at least two more in the next hour!
After his not-so-stimulating conversation with our table, Vodka man decided to get up and eat. I was watching him carefully, and was completely shocked that he could even stand. But he managed to get himself a plate of food just fine. And then- I was laughing so hard- he managed to sit at the table that was very clearly being set for the wedding party! They had rolled out 5 or 6 circular tables, in the very center of the room and were very nicely setting the places, and rolling napkins. He just plopped himself down at one end and ate his meal without a care in the world. He calmly ate his meal, left, and the bride and groom got to come down off their high pedestal (literally, not figuratively) and eat.
While we were conversing with Vodka man, the Bride and Groom were sitting outside, on a very fancy gold and red couch, on a stage (fortunately with a built-in fan) taking mountains of photos. With every single guest. I remember how much my face hurt after only an hour or so of it. They have that bridal boot camp to get your body in shape in America…. I wonder if they have smiling boot camp in India.
Other interesting tidbits of information- apparently the bride or groom has high connections, because a government official came to take a photo with them. They marched in with the military/police, all armed with guns for the official’s safety! So that was a new wedding experience. They stayed for a bit, resting on the couches indoors, but it was a relief to see them go, because it is hard to enjoy your third flavor of ice cream while men with guns are blocking the paths everywhere.
The food was great, again. I had penne with marinara sauce and broccoli, and all the different desserts (well, I only tried four or five of the desserts). But it was all fun. We headed home around 4:00 pm.
After the wedding festivities, we took a quick nap. When I woke up, I felt like a complete zombie. I had kept dreaming that I was sick, with lung congestion. My chest felt really tight. But I still wanted to work out, and in my dream, my husband told me to, “at least go lift some weights!” So when I woke up, still in a zombie-like state, I thought he had really told me that, and it encouraged me, rather than hitting snooze, to get up and go to the gym! Of course, I found out later I had dreamed his encouragement, but it was still nice of him.
The hotel gym was very nice, with modern equipment, and little bottles of water conveniently sitting in the corner waiting for me to drink. I lifted weights, but their smallest free weights were way too big for some of the smaller muscles, so I used water bottles instead.
Working out was of course followed by more food! We had a very good dinner at the hotel restaurant, but the portions were really small. We then closed out the hotel bar (hey, it was only open until midnight or so), which was called ‘Lava’ and was decorated straight out of the 60s, except for the fact it was actually missing the lava lamps. But it had the crazy retro egg like chairs and psychedelic wall decorations.
Exhausted, we all went to bed, ready for day three of the wedding festivities.
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