There is very little to inspire a person to go to a wedding function and spend an utterly boring evening. Still, many invariably find themselves seated at one
The most compelling reason to attend a wedding is that it is his or her own. Otherwise, there is very little to inspire a person to go to such a function and spend an utterly boring evening in the shaadi hall or garden. Still, we invariably find ourselves seated in one, ready to make a mad dash to the exit at the first sign of opportunity. The delay in serving dinner has also become an effective tool to force one to sit through the entire function.
Due to extreme boredom in all such functions, I started getting bouts of depression the day my friend dropped off a wedding card. My only short-term objective was to get it over with, after which I could resume my normal life. Fully aware of the deep-rooted sense of ‘punctuality’ practised in our society, I arrived at the scene of the wedding well after an hour. After countless handshakes, hugs, pats, etc, I grabbed a chair placed around one of the several tables in the garden.
Being a Defence wedding, segregation on the basis of sex was not the order of the day, and women felt free to prowl and impress men and vice versa. The attendance was thin to start with, but with the incentive of a mixed gathering, a good turnout was expected. The table which I chose was already being graced by an old man with white hair imparting his political insights to another man of the same age bracket. The second man, however, had his attention focused on a middle-age woman, who, in a flagrant violation to the norm of her age group, was wearing a bright-coloured gharara. The first gentleman remained fully immersed in this one-sided discussion. Soon, other silvery heads joined in and they all started to pollute the air not only with their smoke, but also with their ludicrous political ideas.
At this juncture, I deemed it fit to hop the table, partly to get away from the silvery heads but primarily to get a better view of the more beautiful things in life. My new table was home to two chirpy females who were giving their expert opinion on the appearances and dresses of their fellow species. They put in an admirable performance as critics, finding faults with every other woman at the function. As per them, none of the woman had any fashion, matching and for that matter, common sense. Some woman were overly dressed in their opinion while some were short of dress material. They enlightened me about the real ages of some of the women and their past, present and expected affairs. I also learned which one was going out with whom, and whose husband resembled Richard Gere and whose spouse is a Christopher Lee (Dracula fame) look-alike. After this highly educating session, my attention was diverted towards my friend who had just arrived and had just bumped into one of the bride’s numerous aunts. He joined me to give me some much-needed company.
The place was now filled to capacity and a lot of respectable looking faces were waiting for the ultimate climax, and I do not mean the Nikah ceremony. The kids were having a jolly good time at the expense of the guests, whose chairs were constantly being pushed. The time came when the bride entered the arena, escorted by numerous females. Traffic for pedestrians on the passage remained blocked for the next half-an-hour as the procession moved at a snail’s pace. Reflecting a typical eastern tradition, the bride had thrown all her modesty to the wind and wore make-up which was both frightful and disgusting, strictly in this order. It was a painfully slow procession in which the bride seemed to be getting nowhere. Finally, responding to the silent pleas of about 800 hungry souls, nature expedited the arrival of the girl at the stage, bringing the long and traumatic wait to an end.
The Qazi sahib took his time taking out his glasses from the pocket and balancing them on his lop-sided nose. After recitation, the time came when acceptance was to be sought from the couple. Judging from the nonchalance and intervals between the three qabool hais delivered by the bridegroom, I gathered that he had come to the wedding undecided. After a period which seemed like ages, the bridegroom was seen embracing everything that came his way, a clear indication that the marriage has been solemnized. The Qazi sahib had now joined the ranks of ordinary mortals in giving anxious glances towards the tables laden with delicious food.
Next came the video session. The relatives of the couples flocked the stage and had their video taken alongside the newly-wedded couple. Most wanted to sit right next to the couple. Their desire caused considerable inconvenience to the two young lovebirds as they jostled their way into the limited confines of the sofa. On one occasion, a gentleman nearly edged the bridegroom out of his seat. A timely rescue operation by a friend saved him from crash-landing in an undesired fashion.
Finally, the moment of truth arrived. It was just after 12.15pm and things were beginning to get unsavoury as dinner had been delayed considerably. The announcement triggered a near stampede. A few moments ago, the very guests who gave an image of respectability and sophistication had thrown off the garbs and were shoving each other to lay their hands on serving spoons and access to the food. The silvery heads, however, showed great discipline in this bedlam and formed a queue first, and later surreptitiously monopolized one table.
The ladies were no different when it came to lack of mannerism. Smart women with charming figures were seen doing injustice to their physical traits, and were showing the zeal unbecoming of a lady while filling their plates. The assault by the woman clad in the voluminous gharara was most incredible as she tried to move about from one table to another. Naturally, the gharara obstructed her in her relentless strides many times. Fortunately, she managed to avoid tripping and after heaping her plate with food, gave a triumphant glance to one of the silvery heads mentioned earlier.
For anybody who has read this piece, it is not difficult to understand why I am quite allergic to weddings.
There is very little to inspire a person to go to a wedding function and spend an utterly boring evening. Still, many invariably find themselves seated at one 
