A Wedding in Chennai

Now and then I go for a wedding and come away with the same feeling, a mixture of gladness for the couple (for at least the wedding day represents the hopefulness and happiness of coupling) and acute boredom.  My cousin’s wedding in Chennai this February was no different.  Though not a late marriage it was not an early marriage either, such weddings I find do not have the unabashed joy and extravagance that results when the principal participants are still young.  Instead it is mellow and there is a sense of relief that life’s journey has begun, if a little late.   Yet, whatever the age of the couple, the proceedings are always desultory and interminable.  This is more so for the Hindu wedding which in spite of modern simplification still stretches on for a day or two with ceremonies held at odd hours. A stint of dreaded residence at a “hall” is also called for (this bit perhaps is peculiar to Tamilians but is a practice that should be instantly banned given the condition of most halls).

People gather at a marriage to bear witness but there is no clear ceremony for this in the Hindu wedding, though the tying of the thali is perhaps the point where everyone gathers.  Instead the wedding ceremony requires little or no attention, most people simply mill around aimlessly.  Similarly food appears to be served all day long, the music bursts forth intermittently and video lights induce an instant headache.   The reception is so instantly mockable a spectacle that nothing needs to be said.  The hierarchy of invitees is apparent in treatment, in the gifts given out. Nothing can be enjoyed, everything must be endured.  The only exception to this truism is young children who find joy everywhere and young adults for whom a wedding provides an opportunity to dress up and is a socially approved means of scouting for future spouses. 

Still, I met relatives I had not met for a young time and was acquainted with nieces and nephews I had never met.  It may not be the beginning of lifelong friendships; nevertheless one takes an interest in the general well-being of the clan and enjoys their company.   I could have done without the wedding itself though. 

It’s a long time since I spotted December kanakambaram, here in the wedding hall it is strung with the "true" orange kanakambaram.  It reminded me of a phase in life when I had long hair and never hesitated to pin on flowers. And the South had many types to try, including the kadambam, a mixture of many flowers and leaves.