A Visit to an UP Marriage!


I wish I could share the original picture with you guys. Since I dared not to click (you will know,” why not? ”  soon), You will have to do with somewhat closer version of the original, Google devta made me available with.Ole-Sholey-img-1

I met this guy. Met is an exaggeration. I was invited to his daughter’s wedding and we sat around the same Mandap for a night span along with 10 or so other family members. My cousin was the bridegroom.

This was not the first time I met (exaggeration again ) him. Indian marriages involve a bunch of ceremonies preceding the real marriage ceremony. I had heard the roars of real rifles being shot by his friends cum merry makers on one such ceremony, Bariksha. They all looked the same, straight out of Gabbar k zamane wala  Wanted Poster. I was disappointed when I was told they didn’t come riding horses to the venue.

So, there were rumors that he had committed 16 murders and spend around same number of years in Jail prior to committing them. He is a “Sarpanch” from past 20 years. (Not that I am judging, Atta! GoI.)

Apparently, he married late by Indian standards. You couldn’t tell any of it if you saw the bride or bride’s mother. They were two beautiful, God-fearing, dad/husband fearing or ‘whatever that  tries or not tries to scare them‘ fearing creatures.

If you thought this shit is crazy, there is more to come. We girls were not invited to the wedding ( What’s crazy about it ? wait for it ! ). I got to know about it only after I was dressed, sitting beside the groom in the car and the Barat was all set to start. [They always do that to me :O ]

Since, they didn’t invite  any ladies to the occasion, reasonably,  they were expecting none. When we reached the venue, we were greeted with a “Saat Samundar Par ” welcome song, which was odd at the moment but I’ve heard weirder songs suggesting end of happiness and grief on one such occasion. So, by all means it was OK. The crowd unknowingly barred my vision to see the 3 skimpy clad beautiful dancers at one corner of the gents sitting area. This  would have remained unnoticed had ladies not gossiped about it in the another hall they were forced to stay. There were middle-aged aunties talking about morals and stuff.

When I heard something of “Chhokra Jawan” sort going on just a wall away from me, I wanted to see it. Kids had found their way to see the prohibited dance, simultaneously avoiding the rage of rifle carrying men ( for them- their fathers). They stepped on to the roof. I could join them but this rebellion would mean insulting the auntiesChokra-Jawaan-video-Ishaqzaade-watch-online-300x200. Their continuous outflow provoked me enough to override this inner constraint and I was with the kids in no time. In another 4 minutes I was back with the ladies. They all wanted to know what was going outside. I guess, the curiosity took better of their moral values too.

This year has been cruel to me. It has been trying to take me out of the beautiful picture and show me the other part that I only read in newspapers or see in television and movies and hear as stories from people. Houses burn to ashes because of a short circuit in a switched off television, one wouldn’t visit Granpa‘s place again because he is not there or anywhere now, people actually find solace in Bramha Kumari, sane young girls go crazy in a blink of time, there are actually Gabbar like figures in villages and the UP, Bihar they lutwao in movies is a true story, plus Police Stations are actually 2 shops put together which would rather have been a General Store!!!

Keep up the good work, O year !

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