The wedding house

It’s almost 2 months since we got married and so about time for a post about the wedding. The funny part was that we got married 2 days after we had the reception. Sounds odd, but that was only practical. So since we already had quite a few guests at home since 4-5 days before the first reception, and since we are both too lazy, we didn’t really make it for the marriage registration on the reception day.

I had gone through quite a bit of heartache and headache before the reception. There were multiple changes in the dates and the plan in general. We had all agreed that I wouldn’t wear Mangalsutra. But one fine day Em’s mum suddenly called and tried to cajole me into wearing it if only for 5 minutes, just to appease her mum. And I kept resisting saying that it wasn’t  a matter of time but my principle and that if I really believed that it made any difference, I’d totally wear it forever. She tried to play the let’s-make-the-old-people-happy card, but I didn’t buy it since I didn’t particularly believe that old people were right. If anything, they should just sit back and watch without actively participating in matters that don’t concern them (No disrespect intended. I LOVE my maternal grandparents. They respect my choices, I respect theirs). Plus, if I had to do something just to please another human being even if it meant going against my own belief system, I’d much rather do it for my own grandmother. I know my grandmother, I love her and making some compromise for her wouldn’t seem so insulting because of the years and years of love we share. But what was the excuse of doing it for a grandmother that I had met only once in my lifetime?

I don’t blame her. I understand her point of view too. After a certain age, what matters to you most is making your old parents happy, especially if it doesn’t require a huge physical effort. But I was right in my place too. I planned on getting married just this one time and wanted it done my way…in a way that’d let me look back fondly and not with resentment and bitterness. I tried to make my argument but I was simply not being listened to. In this case, I played my usual tell-the-boyfriend card and told EM the entire story and scolded him for having to listen to this and said that this marriage was just like any other where the girls have to make all the compromise. While my parents agreed to let me have my own way, the truth is that my dad would have liked it if there was a priest. But I had fiercely rejected the whole idea and made him give in. Now, listening to EM’s mother’s idea of wearing the mangalsutra but not doing anything my dad wanted just seemed wrong and hypocritical. I told EM that if I wore the mangalsutra, he’d have to be okay with the priest even if we didn’t believe in it. I didn’t have to do much convincing. EM was himself enraged with the whole idea and explained in his extraordinarily effective and convincing way that I would do no such thing.

Now EM’s mother being an incredibly intelligent and progressive woman, she saw the point and gave up the idea. She also realized that the expectation was unreasonable when we had the whole thing already figured out. We resolved the whole issue in no time and agreed to stick to what EM and I wanted irrespective of other people’s choices. Then there a few other issues like these where everyone apart from the couple to be married was discussing what was the best way to do this, who should be invited, what gifts should be given out, what food made etc. I’m not complaining. All these were important questions and somebody had to do it. But there were tempers flying and irrelevant discussions happening.

Apart from a couple of glitches like these, that are only natural for anything that involves more than one person and more than one point of view, the wedding was a fun affair. We had guests come in a couple of days before. I was pampered like crazy with the wonderful food of choice, a 5 hour manicure, pedicure, facial et al session (first and last in my life. I’d much rather watch Seinfeld with a huge bag of crisps). We had a guy come over to paint our hands with henna and it was beautiful and almost hypnotic to watch the silky mix make magical shapes on my hands in no time. The entire family got together, all at once, after a very long time.  For the first time in my life I wasn’t feeling all that irritated among so many people and started appreciating family and relations and the priceless connection you feel with people who are so happy for you and participate with such an open heart in your joy. In fact, they didn’t just participate but celebrated our relationship’s gradual step into the married life.

A lot of our relatives came from far off as well. Even friends came despite the weather not being all that great. There were no major functions, there weren’t any glamorous functions. Just a lot of lovely people coming together for 2 people they loved and cared about and in general to just hang out with all the relatives, do some catching up, share some fun anecdotes and enjoy. The whole affair was a bit unconventional based purely on love and understanding. There were no weird ego issues, no throwing tantrums, no crying…just people, food and fun. We had 2 receptions. One in my town and one in EM’s after which we, with a bunch of close, special, non judgmental relatives spent another 2 days in a huge guesthouse in a little hill station nearby. We all chatted, took pictures, went for long walks, drank loads, had copious amounts of tea with lemon grass. After this fun-filled 5 days people slowly started dispersing and getting back to the inevitable routine, but everyone hopefully feeling rejuvenated. EM and I then took a trip, just the two of us…yes, you can call it the honeymoon, where we spent most time talkign about our relatives and the events in the last few days in general over awesome food and drink, before settling into the usual place and bunch.

The house that was magically transformed into the wedding house marked with people, food, festivities and fun got back to its usual silent everyday existence…but not without the lovely memories of the first marriage that it witnessed.


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