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Tuesday, August 03, 2004
The Wedding Reception
Continued from Wedding Part 1
A wedding Reception, ladies, gentlemen and others, may at the outset appear exciting. I was thrilled about wearing my beige suit and pose for the photographers. I was all set to devour the huge shower of attention that my better half and I would be getting. Things are not what they seem dear reader, and I learnt it the hard way.
At around 1800 hours on June 27th 2004, I struggled into my suit and Kicha, my best man, helped me with the tie. After dousing myself with Axe Pulse (I love it and I think it is the best deo in the world) I slipped into my shoes. My right eye twitched and my knee let out a slight tremor. I wanted to go take a crap. Kicha almost pushed me out of my room and there I was, in the limelight, with at least 200 pairs of eyes trained on me. I heard some gasps (of delight or disgust I do not know) and hurried murmurs. I must have looked good. Yea. Chitu emerged from her room and she was ravishing in her Zardoski (what do you call that Sari honey?) saree. The photographers pounced on us and in between snaps, I was waving at each known face in the crowd. Savi, Chithu’s sister had told me that she was going to play some rocking music.
MJ was screaming ‘Beat it’. Talk of irony and anti-climax.
People started trickling in on to the dais where we stood. And soon, the queue spilt out of the entrance of the wedding hall. Shaking hands and saying ‘Thanks’ became an involuntary physiological chore. I couldn’t relax my jaw and my cheeks were stuck in an artificial smile.
The photographer, a rude bastard, would take an eternity for a single snap. Right after the snap he’d growl at the guests on the dais to get off it. The guests would then beat it (the MJ number was playing in a loop all right) like bats out of hell. His assistants who were manning the supposedly ‘digital’ video camera chose to make me the guinea pig for their creative excesses. I was not aware of what was going on in the TVs as they were facing the audience. Think about this: my still would fly from the left and hers from the right and would collide, merge and explode into a flower… and the letters appear ‘TRUE LOVE’. There was little we could do, so we let them make a Hindi movie out our wedding video.
After close to five hours of standing and receiving blessings from the guests I was at the verge of collapsing. The ornate chairs on the dais went unutilized, for we never sat on them. When the clock was inching its way toward 2300 hours, we got down the dais, My knees buckled as I started walking towards my friends. We finished dinner and I was asked to retire to my room. ‘The groom is not supposed to venture out the hall’, one of her uncles put his foot down. So, Kicha and I had some Tequila (courtesy, Sudha. Thanks dee!). We did not have the shot glasses but how does it deter committed drunks? We used the cap of the bottle and drank Tequila. It was laborious and I was already tired. So, we decided to hit the sack. It was a dreamless, peaceful sleep. It appeared that I was asleep only for a minute when someone knocked on my door. ‘Get up, get ready for the Muhurtham!’ they were screaming. I was freaked out. I had good reason. For this was it. I had only a couple of hours of my bachelorhood left. A devilish crossed my mind, ‘what if I run away currently?’ But the picture of Dr. Chitra (that’s my wife) injecting an air bubble into my prominent veins stopped from ideating further. (...To be continued.)
Write to me: suman 'at' techwritersindia 'dot' com
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Monday, July 12, 2004
Wedding Pictures (Via: Sam)
Click on images to see bigger pictures. I have tried to explain the rituals in the pics; if there are any inaccuracies, forgive me, and I'd be grateful if you suggested corrections. Suman.
The wedding area. Consists of the couple, priest, and a holy fire. It is decorated with Jasmine and other flowers.
I wash her feet. I don't know what this ritual signifies.
A solution of lime and turmeric powder with a little colour is poured on a plate, circled around the couple, and thrown away to ward off the evil eye. This is done a number of times throughout the entire wedding ceremony, and at the end.
Circling Sacred Fire: Bride and Groom circle 7 times, may offer rice, etc. to the fire, representing prosperity of life and fertility.
Placing Sacred Necklace: "Mangalya Dharana" (Groom places "Mangal Sutra" around bride's neck and "Sindoor" (red powder) in the part of her hair. These offerings signify the marks of a married woman and act as symbols of the husband's love, integrity and devotion
Showing my bride the Arundhati star: The bride groom shows his wife the Arundhati star and also Dhruva, the pole-star. Arundhati, the wife of Vasishta Maharishi, is regarded the ideal wife, pure and chaste and Dhruva is the one who attained immortality through his devotion and perseverance. These virtues have to be emulated throughout married life.
Chitra and I, after the wedding.
(Some more pics taken by Prakash on http://sumankumar.com )
The wedding area. Consists of the couple, priest, and a holy fire. It is decorated with Jasmine and other flowers.
I wash her feet. I don't know what this ritual signifies.
A solution of lime and turmeric powder with a little colour is poured on a plate, circled around the couple, and thrown away to ward off the evil eye. This is done a number of times throughout the entire wedding ceremony, and at the end.
Circling Sacred Fire: Bride and Groom circle 7 times, may offer rice, etc. to the fire, representing prosperity of life and fertility.
Placing Sacred Necklace: "Mangalya Dharana" (Groom places "Mangal Sutra" around bride's neck and "Sindoor" (red powder) in the part of her hair. These offerings signify the marks of a married woman and act as symbols of the husband's love, integrity and devotion
Showing my bride the Arundhati star: The bride groom shows his wife the Arundhati star and also Dhruva, the pole-star. Arundhati, the wife of Vasishta Maharishi, is regarded the ideal wife, pure and chaste and Dhruva is the one who attained immortality through his devotion and perseverance. These virtues have to be emulated throughout married life.
Chitra and I, after the wedding.
(Some more pics taken by Prakash on http://sumankumar.com )
The Wedding: Part 1
27 June 2004 – 900 Hrs
Chitra hollers on the phone about the importance of my getting a facial done and coloring my hair to hide the few gray hair that found the perfect time to show up. After some thought I agreed to it with the reluctance of a rat in a cat’s mouth. I was staying in Regency along with my younger brother. He was supposed to be my aide for the big day, but he was more than happy to restrict himself to finishing the Old monk rum and cracking stupid jokes about my hair, temper, and the wedding itself. At half-past-nine I met Renu (chit’s friend) and we were off to the men’s parlor.
The day before I had visited the dentist with Renu (Chit wanted to leave no stone unturned). It was this hep clinic with quite a few pretty young things (doctors) buzzing about. After a wait that lasted for about ten minutes, the doctor – a beautiful doctor – asked me to step in. I spent the better part of the next couple of hours staring into her face which was perilously close to my face (three inches!). I walked out with clean teeth and a heavy heart. I also made a fool of myself by accepting an appointment the next evening: my wedding day. I realized my blunder only after I’d stepped out.
1000 Hrs
As Renu (Dr.Renu by the way) and I were inching (forgive the pun Renu) towards this Men’s parlor in the lazy Bangalore traffic my mind was busy barbecuing itself with the seemingly impossible logistics of transporting my entire family from the rail station to the wedding hall. Chit’s dad had generously accepted the challenge and promised to be at the station right on the dot. The clouds raced across and locked into each other in a seemingly wicked congregation. No matter how much I told myself ‘it is gonna be ok’, the lump in my throat refused to budge. The possibility of a rain –as romantic as it may appear- gave me the chills.
We reached Golden Touch, the parlor, at around ten. Golden Touch sat bang in the middle of a residential area. An eerie calm prevailed in the waiting area. Some boys were whispering among themselves, arguing which style would suit, from a photo album that the Golden Touch guys had provided. I heard something churn in my stomach; I had a premonition that this whole parlor thing was going to blow right up on my face, and make me look like –on the most important day of my life – an Orangutan with conjunctivitis, and mouth ulcers. Renu rolled her expressive eyes and called the parlor guy. She explained to the parlor man that I wanted to color my hair and scrub my face with all the creams that he got. He nodded and said, ‘three hours’. I almost fainted with the thought of my family at the rail station waiting for me. We finally convinced him to do it under two hours. The train from Chennai was reaching Bangalore at 1330 hours and I did not want to be late to receive my family, for I knew that if I missed presenting myself when the jing-bang reached Bangalore, the repercussions were –to say the least – grave. The parlor guy went in after asking us to wait in the waiting area. Renu suddenly realized her passion for Bollywood movie mags and dove right into one of them (the mag was by a conservative estimate, a year old). So, I sat there, fidgety, and suffering from an incoherence that can be matched by the inmates of a lunatic asylum.
The parlor guy stuck his head out from his sanctum sanctorum and invited me in. I let out an audible sigh of relief, much to the chagrin of Renu who was disturbed from her Bollywood calling by my sigh.
The interior of the parlor was cramped for space. I saw a guy with some orange paste on his face, and I wanted to compliment him: ‘hey you look cool man!’ But lack of guts and increased churning activity in my tummy made me forget him. I also noticed that people were coloring their hair in all kinds of weirdo colors. Pink! Man!
The parlor guy scrubbed my face with some dozen creams, face-packs, and the works. And colored my hair with Loreal Natural Black. While I was sitting in the waiting area to let the hair color settle down, Suren, my bro, called up to announce that Chit’s dad there some where in the station but he was not able to find my family. I checked my watch, which screamed half-past one, and my heart started banging against my ribcage. My squeaky clean, glowing face broke into a generous sweat. My ear lobes went warm. The sky laughed with a thunderclap, as if saying’ ‘there’s more baby’, and I jumped out of my chair and ran.
1330 Hrs
While on the bike with Renu I successfully psyched myself into believing that my family is going to have me for lunch.
My elder brother called. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked. I pleaded with him to manage the situation. ‘It’s been forty minutes since we reached and there’s no sign of your father-in-law and party. Should we take a cab?’ If I had said yes I would have started WW-3. I hung up and called Chit. After a fight and some awesome screaming, I realized that there was not much I could do. I so badly wanted to be in the station, but I could not do anything. It started raining. The clouds became darker and it appeared that the stage was set for a calamitous downpour.
Some where along the way I decided to not to go to the station, but meet my folks directly at the wedding hall instead. I sounded this off to Suren who was edgy like hell.
Suren kept sending messages on my mobile about how my uncles were throwing a fit. And I was pissed off. There’s always this uncle in every family that loves showing off and is a pain in the butt in occasions like these. I have one and he was at it with the relish of a starving tiger in a sheep farm.
As Renu’s bike veered into the small lane where the hall was located, I saw my family get off a van and I immediately noticed the stern expressions. I ran to my dad and my brothers. Things weren’t all that bad, but it left my father-in-law in a dazed state. I spoke to my pa-in-law and dispensed with some encouraging words, but he looked implacable. Welcome to the family uncle.
1500 Hrs
Kicha my best friend and best man called from the airport. He had reached Bangalore. I asked him to go to the hotel, freshen up, and show up at the wedding hall.
I was whisked away and was asked to get ready for the ‘Welcome the Groom’ function. The function involves visiting a temple, offer prayers, and step in to the wedding hall. I was done with it and now I was asked to get ready for the main function: the reception.
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Chitra hollers on the phone about the importance of my getting a facial done and coloring my hair to hide the few gray hair that found the perfect time to show up. After some thought I agreed to it with the reluctance of a rat in a cat’s mouth. I was staying in Regency along with my younger brother. He was supposed to be my aide for the big day, but he was more than happy to restrict himself to finishing the Old monk rum and cracking stupid jokes about my hair, temper, and the wedding itself. At half-past-nine I met Renu (chit’s friend) and we were off to the men’s parlor.
The day before I had visited the dentist with Renu (Chit wanted to leave no stone unturned). It was this hep clinic with quite a few pretty young things (doctors) buzzing about. After a wait that lasted for about ten minutes, the doctor – a beautiful doctor – asked me to step in. I spent the better part of the next couple of hours staring into her face which was perilously close to my face (three inches!). I walked out with clean teeth and a heavy heart. I also made a fool of myself by accepting an appointment the next evening: my wedding day. I realized my blunder only after I’d stepped out.
1000 Hrs
As Renu (Dr.Renu by the way) and I were inching (forgive the pun Renu) towards this Men’s parlor in the lazy Bangalore traffic my mind was busy barbecuing itself with the seemingly impossible logistics of transporting my entire family from the rail station to the wedding hall. Chit’s dad had generously accepted the challenge and promised to be at the station right on the dot. The clouds raced across and locked into each other in a seemingly wicked congregation. No matter how much I told myself ‘it is gonna be ok’, the lump in my throat refused to budge. The possibility of a rain –as romantic as it may appear- gave me the chills.
We reached Golden Touch, the parlor, at around ten. Golden Touch sat bang in the middle of a residential area. An eerie calm prevailed in the waiting area. Some boys were whispering among themselves, arguing which style would suit, from a photo album that the Golden Touch guys had provided. I heard something churn in my stomach; I had a premonition that this whole parlor thing was going to blow right up on my face, and make me look like –on the most important day of my life – an Orangutan with conjunctivitis, and mouth ulcers. Renu rolled her expressive eyes and called the parlor guy. She explained to the parlor man that I wanted to color my hair and scrub my face with all the creams that he got. He nodded and said, ‘three hours’. I almost fainted with the thought of my family at the rail station waiting for me. We finally convinced him to do it under two hours. The train from Chennai was reaching Bangalore at 1330 hours and I did not want to be late to receive my family, for I knew that if I missed presenting myself when the jing-bang reached Bangalore, the repercussions were –to say the least – grave. The parlor guy went in after asking us to wait in the waiting area. Renu suddenly realized her passion for Bollywood movie mags and dove right into one of them (the mag was by a conservative estimate, a year old). So, I sat there, fidgety, and suffering from an incoherence that can be matched by the inmates of a lunatic asylum.
The parlor guy stuck his head out from his sanctum sanctorum and invited me in. I let out an audible sigh of relief, much to the chagrin of Renu who was disturbed from her Bollywood calling by my sigh.
The interior of the parlor was cramped for space. I saw a guy with some orange paste on his face, and I wanted to compliment him: ‘hey you look cool man!’ But lack of guts and increased churning activity in my tummy made me forget him. I also noticed that people were coloring their hair in all kinds of weirdo colors. Pink! Man!
The parlor guy scrubbed my face with some dozen creams, face-packs, and the works. And colored my hair with Loreal Natural Black. While I was sitting in the waiting area to let the hair color settle down, Suren, my bro, called up to announce that Chit’s dad there some where in the station but he was not able to find my family. I checked my watch, which screamed half-past one, and my heart started banging against my ribcage. My squeaky clean, glowing face broke into a generous sweat. My ear lobes went warm. The sky laughed with a thunderclap, as if saying’ ‘there’s more baby’, and I jumped out of my chair and ran.
1330 Hrs
While on the bike with Renu I successfully psyched myself into believing that my family is going to have me for lunch.
My elder brother called. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked. I pleaded with him to manage the situation. ‘It’s been forty minutes since we reached and there’s no sign of your father-in-law and party. Should we take a cab?’ If I had said yes I would have started WW-3. I hung up and called Chit. After a fight and some awesome screaming, I realized that there was not much I could do. I so badly wanted to be in the station, but I could not do anything. It started raining. The clouds became darker and it appeared that the stage was set for a calamitous downpour.
Some where along the way I decided to not to go to the station, but meet my folks directly at the wedding hall instead. I sounded this off to Suren who was edgy like hell.
Suren kept sending messages on my mobile about how my uncles were throwing a fit. And I was pissed off. There’s always this uncle in every family that loves showing off and is a pain in the butt in occasions like these. I have one and he was at it with the relish of a starving tiger in a sheep farm.
As Renu’s bike veered into the small lane where the hall was located, I saw my family get off a van and I immediately noticed the stern expressions. I ran to my dad and my brothers. Things weren’t all that bad, but it left my father-in-law in a dazed state. I spoke to my pa-in-law and dispensed with some encouraging words, but he looked implacable. Welcome to the family uncle.
1500 Hrs
Kicha my best friend and best man called from the airport. He had reached Bangalore. I asked him to go to the hotel, freshen up, and show up at the wedding hall.
I was whisked away and was asked to get ready for the ‘Welcome the Groom’ function. The function involves visiting a temple, offer prayers, and step in to the wedding hall. I was done with it and now I was asked to get ready for the main function: the reception.
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
You are Invited
You are invited people! After a marathon courtship of close to five years Chitra and I are tying the knot. Be there to share the moment of our lives.
Read your invitation
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Read your invitation
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Wedding plan Update
The invitations are printed. The wedding suit is ready. Chitra's found her makeup woman (phew!). I need to: book tickets Chennai-Bangalore-Chennai for my entire family (ouch!). I need to shop for Chitra's sari and my Silk 'Veshti (dhoti)'.
I found a flat on the fifth floor with a breath-taking view and a 450 sq.ft private terrace :)
Bought a fridge, and TV. Planning to buy more before I leave for my wedding. I have yet to design my personal invite. :(
Watch this space.
It's crazy. It's all happening.
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
I found a flat on the fifth floor with a breath-taking view and a 450 sq.ft private terrace :)
Bought a fridge, and TV. Planning to buy more before I leave for my wedding. I have yet to design my personal invite. :(
Watch this space.
It's crazy. It's all happening.
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Silk Sarees of Kanchipuram
Kanchi is a sleepy little town 70 KM (about 40 miles?) from Chennai. And close to 75% of its population is dependent on the Silk Saree business.
The Kanchipuram Silk Saree is hand-woven with dyed silk yarn with interleaved designs made with 'Jari' - a Silk thread twisted with a thin Silver wire and then gilded with pure Gold. Read more from this site: http://www.geocities.com/~kanchipuram/tips.html#Silk Sarees
Also read tips for buying sarees: http://www.geocities.com/~kanchipuram/tips.html#Silk Sarees
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
The Kanchipuram Silk Saree is hand-woven with dyed silk yarn with interleaved designs made with 'Jari' - a Silk thread twisted with a thin Silver wire and then gilded with pure Gold. Read more from this site: http://www.geocities.com/~kanchipuram/tips.html#Silk Sarees
Also read tips for buying sarees: http://www.geocities.com/~kanchipuram/tips.html#Silk Sarees
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Wedding Invitation
Chithu's been asking me to write a 'nice' invitation copy. I think that it shouldn't be arhaic or formal. She differs. So, I am forced to write copy like 'We solicit your esteemed presence on the occasion yada yada yada grace the occasion yada yada yada' Yikes! Any ideas people?
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Building the home
With only two months to go for my wedding, I am on a buying-spree. I got a TV (Samsung Plano) and last evening bought a Fridge (240 Litres, Electrolux-Kelvinator. DOuble-door). I need to buy some furniture too and oh shit I have to look for an apartment on rent... bye!
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Engaged!
Engaged!
Yes. On January 25th Suman Kumar and Chitra.S were engaged in a function attended by over 100 people. When I put the ring on the finger I said 'This is it baby!' That's not it. The wedding is on June 27th 2004. It is in Bangalore. I don't know why I am so -um- not-emotional about it... I don't think it has sunk it yet. But I know my life's changed for better. After four years of long-distance courtship - with just about every other person telling me it wont work- I had the last laugh. And I know the laugher will sustain. For all you people that have followed this blog, a big thanks! I mean it feels amazing to receive blessings from people from far-away lands. The subsequent posts on this blog would deal with the wedding preparation... and I am thinking of webcasting the wedding... through Yahoo or something? I am open to ideas (inexpensive ideas please ;-) )
Pictures of Engagement @ http://photos.yahoo.com/sumanphotos2004/
Write to me: suman (at) sumankumar(dot)com
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