A Viral Wedding

A Viral Wedding

Deepa rushed out to look for her parents in the arrivals lounge at the Bangalore airport, "hope mum has not brought garlands to the airport! She has been so excited; wonder how she has retained her excitement ever since we finalised the wedding."

"Well somebody had to be excited! Her highness has finally condescended to marry a commoner like me and that too in Indian style! No wonder your mum is so excited" Suraj winked at Deepa.

Deepa had been super busy preparing for her final exams at the medical school. She hadn't bothered much with the wedding preparations after Suraj had formally proposed to her. She was keen on an Aussie-style, simple wedding at the beach with just a handful of close friends and family. Suraj knew both families wanted an elaborate Indian wedding and he had spent the last two years convincing her to agree to an Indian wedding to make the families happy.

Deepa's mother Leela chatted non-stop as they drove from the airport, describing all the preparations they had made for the wedding. Her dad didn't say much; it was evident that he was thrilled to have his ‘little girl’ home.

He knew what a stubborn girl she was and how she had always got her way, including her studies and life in Australia. He was happy that she had chosen an Indian boy as her life partner. It was a big relief that she agreed to get married in the presence of their numerous relatives and friends in Bangalore.

They reached home, and after a festive brunch, both wanted to catch up on some sleep; a constant stream of visitors in and out of the house wouldn't allow for that. Their three-bedroom apartment had already acquired the ambiance of a bustling wedding hall. Gifts, neatly packed and stacked in a corner, wedding cards still spread on the table, freshly laundered guest towels piled high, post-it notes falling off the fridge…

Suraj's dad Prasad called from Mumbai that evening, "Suraj beta your mum and I will land in Bangalore tomorrow morning. Your mum is keen to take Deepa shopping and buy her outfits and jewellery of her choice.  We will stay there for a day until the ladies sort out their shopping and we want you to come back to Mumbai with us." 

Suraj heard his mother snatch the phone "we have to complete a few rituals in our house before the bridal party can go to Bangalore for the wedding" his mother Manju chimed in excitedly. "We have arranged a haldi function on Friday morning with a cocktail party in the evening at the sailing club.  On Saturday we all travel to Bangalore for the wedding on Sunday…" 

"Ok, mum, I will book a hotel room for you."

"No, no, we will stay with your in-law's for just one night, we need to get to know them before the wedding, don't we? "she demanded.

"OK. Have a safe flight" Suraj switched off the phone hoping Deepa's dad had not heard his mother Manju's statement. He embarrassedly resigned for all of them to stay at Deepa's house.

Suraj felt that Deepa's dad Kumar was a little preoccupied. He found him regularly checking the news bulletins on TV as the coronavirus had entered India and was slowly spreading its tentacles. 

Both Suraj and Deepa had been so preoccupied with winding up work, handing over and packing for their wedding trip and honeymoon that they hardly had time to watch world news.  There was not much news about the Coronavirus in Australia yet; not even in the hospitals they worked.

Suraj's parents arrived the next day. They had met Deepa once when they had visited Suraj who worked in a hospital in Tamworth, a small town, five hours from Sydney. Deepa's friendly welcome and Kumar's whacky sense of humour put them at ease. Leela seemed a bit stressed trying to ensure that Suraj's parents were comfortable.

As planned, they all went shopping. The men let the ladies raid the shops while they had a leisurely coffee and browsed the news on their phones.

Deepa had lived independently for the past ten years and mainly shopped online for her outfits.  She was rather touched when both moms fussed over her and picked her outfits with great care. She felt special to be so spoiled and enjoyed the attention. She had almost forgotten the fun in shopping with others. She was amused to see her mother’s attention to detail.

They shopped all day and finally got home exhausted. Suraj had gone to meet some friends. He was home early and sat glued to the TV watching the news seriously. The coronavirus was no longer a disease in distant China. International travellers had brought it onto Indian soil. The impact of this contagious disease, in a densely populated country, was anyone's guess.

"Thank God you both are here Suraj. If you were just two days late you would have been quarantined for fourteen days," said Prasad the next morning reading the papers for details about the virus.

"This morning all international flights have been stopped, they wouldn't even have been able to come into the country," said Kumar, looking up from his phone.

"I hope it will not affect the wedding plans. A few overseas guests may miss out, but what can we do?" said Leela, trying to make light of the situation. Nobody responded. The situation had started becoming grimmer by the day.

Next morning a country-wide lock-down was announced, and all domestic travel was suspended.

Suraj and his parents huddled together on the balcony, trying to book a hotel room nearby to move into.

Kumar and Leela would not let them go. "Please don't think of moving to a hotel, we will soon become an extended family. Feel free to stay with us until the lock-down is lifted" Kumar urged Suraj and his parents to stay.

Manju and Prasad had only brought two sets of outfits for their overnight stay in Bangalore. They had to wash and wear the same clothes every day alternately. Leela was much slimmer than Manju, so Manju could not borrow Leela's clothes.

Deepa came up with a bright idea of lungi (sarong) and T-shirt and started wearing them along with her would-be mother-in-law just to make her comfortable. Manju walked around in embarrassment wearing her son's oversized T-shirts.

"Thank God I had stocked my pantry well in preparation for the wedding. We don't have to worry about food." Leela tried to find a silver lining in the dark cloud of the corona that was engulfing the world and causing fatalities indiscriminately.

Within two days, it became evident that even a diluted version of the much-planned ‘Big Fat Indian Wedding’ would not be possible. Leela was devastated!  A whole year’s efforts meant nothing now.

They all got busy the next two days sending out cancellation notes and talking to the florist, the venue, the photographer and the caterers to seek refunds. Leela had been meticulous in organising; it also helped with cancellations. Nobody agreed for a refund, but they were willing to consider postponement.

After the essential things were taken care of, they all spent time watching the news, browsing phones for WhatsApp messages and updating their feelings on Facebook. The media sensationalised the news causing worry and sleeplessness.

It caused them more sleeplessness to see Suraj tossing and turning on the couch in the living room.  When Suraj was posted in Sydney, he and Deepa had lived together. It was never acknowledged or discussed by the parents. Sharing a bed before the wedding was somehow not acceptable in an Indian household and the youngsters had felt compelled to respect the unspecified rules.

That night Leela shook her husband awake with a brilliant idea. "The wedding has been fixed for Friday; we had consulted so many astrologers to get the most auspicious date. Why should we let it pass? The bride, the groom and both sets of parents, are all here. Why don't we go ahead with the wedding at home?"

"That's a grand idea! Can we please sleep now?" Kumar snubbed his wife as he usually did with any of her suggestions. It's a different story that he eventually came around to faithfully implementing her ideas!

Leela was not ready to be snubbed. "Look, the whole world is in the midst of this pandemic. Nobody has a clue when this lock-down will be lifted. We don't even know when Deepa and Suraj can fly back to Sydney. Why can't they at least live together as husband and wife while they are here?" she tried to reason; all she got from Kumar was a loud snore.

Next morning, Leela discussed this matter with Manju over a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Leela's feminine logic instantly appealed to Manju, and she agreed. Her only sadness was that her daughter Indu would not be at her brother's wedding.

"Let's arrange a big reception when this corona- sharona is gone. We can even have a sangeeth the day before the reception" said Leela, thinking of the hours of practice she and her friends had put towards the dances for the sangeeth. She didn't want to let it all go to waste and disappoint her friends. They had all worked so hard to keep themselves trim and toned for the wedding.

Suraj and Deepa jumped with joy at the thought of a simple wedding at home; they needed no convincing at all. The men found no reason to oppose, and it was unanimously agreed to have a simple Hindu wedding at home.

Leela's enthusiasm was infectious; it drew everyone into a festive mood.  She spent all morning convincing the elderly family priest, Ramakrishna Shastrigal to conduct the wedding on Zoom. She recruited Suraj to the task of helping him download Zoom and teaching him how to use it. 

The apartment manager had set up a Whats app group for all residents and regularly communicated with them through group messages. Bangalore had become a melting pot of people from various cultures and languages. Many residents, including the Kumars, hardly knew their neighbours.

Leela had no time to create a new group, so she used the existing one and texted all the neighbours in the apartment block and announced the ‘in-house’ wedding. Most of their neighbours were sitting bored at home. They jumped at the exciting thought of participating remotely in a wedding. 

Suraj was kept busy all day, giving everyone 'Zoom' lessons so they could all watch the wedding.  His dad worked hard to learn to stream the wedding online and shared the link among relatives and friends in different parts of the globe.

Manju offered to prepare delicacies for the wedding, while Leela got busy in finding stuff to decorate the house and the makeshift mantap. One more round of text messages went to the neighbours, and they started leaving torans and festoons and balloons in boxes outside their door. Lakshmi aunty from the ground floor offered to make garlands with fresh flowers from her backyard.

The men were ordered to lift and shift things and were given the task of erecting a mantap in the middle of the drawing-room using bed frames! They struggled in vain all day to get it right. Finally, the bride and the groom had to pitch in to build their own wedding mantap!

The biggest challenge was the bride's outfit as her blouse was yet to be stitched to match her new kanjivaram sari. Manju could not believe her ears when the snobbish Sharmila Khanna from the penthouse called, "I heard the bride's blouse needs to be stitched. I used to work as a fashion designer in Delhi before coming to Bangalore. I can do that for you in a day, don't worry". Leela was speechless at this offer and struggled to find suitable words to thank her.

The news of Sharmila's offer spread quickly on Whatsapp groups and was discussed all morning! Corona had indeed worked miracles! Many hidden talents were getting discovered, and unexpected friendships were being formed!

On the wedding day, they all woke up to the sweet strains of shehnai played thoughtfully by the elderly professor Balraj from his balcony.  As if taking a cue from the shehnai, Mrs Banerjee from the ground floor drew an elaborate alpana design at the apartment entrance, giving it a festive look.

Seeing that, Leela told Manju, "what a kind lady Mrs Banerjee is! I don't even know her first name; we just call her the Bengali lady."

Both mums were running around in a frenzy, getting the bridal couple dressed and arranging things for the rituals.

They had now become sisters; Corona seemed to have wiped away all formalities between them. They were just two mothers who wanted to see their children happily married.

"Why can't all weddings be as simple and easy as this?", wondered Prasad, recalling the stress of arranging his daughter's wedding two years ago. He remembered managing the un-ending skirmishes that erupted for many days both from their own extended families and the groom's family. He was exhausted and disgusted at the end of it.

Everybody was amused when the Sharma’s from the first floor appeared on their balcony dressed in their wedding best. After seeing that, the ladies didn't feel right for their families to be loitering in their night suits when a wedding was happening in their own building!

Soon the women folk pulled their reluctant husbands and kids inside to get them changed into silk achkans and grand outfits. Fortunately, most of the ladies had already planned their outfits for Deepa's big day and were not letting go of a chance to flaunt it, even if it was just on their own balcony!

The rituals started, and the groom came to the balcony for his Kashiyatra. It is a symbolic ritual where the groom pretends to run away to the city of Kashi to become an ascetic. The bride’s family have to stop him and offer their daughter's hand in marriage!  All the neighbours stood on their balconies to witness the rituals. Leela had made sure all blinds and curtains were pulled apart to give them a glimpse of the rituals happening inside. They all clapped in joy when the nadaswaram on YouTube played in crescendo as Suraj tied the necklace with a mangalsutra around Deepa's neck.

Ramakrishna Shastrigal conducted an elaborate wedding explaining the rituals and their significance and translating it into modern parlance for the young couple. He was pleased to conduct a wedding without being hassled by the irritating guests, the distracted bridal couple and the videographers and photographers continually interrupting him. Some would even ask for a retake of the rituals as though it were a film shooting, robbing it of all its significance! Suraj and Deepa were able to focus on the rituals, and they paused and said their own pledges as they took the seven sacred steps together with the holy fire as a silent witness.

It was a beautiful spring day in March. The sun was smiling radiantly when Suraj brought his brand-new wife Deepa to the balcony to show her the Arundhati star! The sage Vasishta and his wife Arundathi represented the ideals of couple-hood. Traditionally, newly married couples would seek their blessings. This was yet another wedding ritual which had completely lost its significance- looking for a twinkling star in broad daylight!! However, it had been retained as a wonderful photo opportunity! Many phones and cameras clicked as the bridal couple stood on their balcony in all their bridal finery.

The neighbours cheered them and showered petals and turmeric rice as blessings. The petals fell in the corridor between the flats, but the blessings reached the couple who grabbed it and treasured it in their hearts forever.

"We have brought up our daughter with much love and care, please look after her as your own" Leela said, smiling in an artificial dramatic tone even as her eyes welled up with real tears. Deepa was ceremoniously fare-welled and transferred from her bedroom into the guest bedroom that her in-laws had occupied! The couple later went around the block, leaving a bagful of sweets and gifts at their neighbours' door, thanking them personally.

Within a couple of days, Deepa and Suraj became restless; they were both well-qualified health care professionals. They couldn't sit idle at home when duty called. They contacted Deepa's professor who organised for them to volunteer in the local hospital. They became fully involved and worked tirelessly, travelling to rural areas.

Life continued amidst the extended lock-down, and the elders seemed to settle into a routine reluctantly. One day, Prasad, who was fond of classical music, asked Leela, a trained singer, to teach him a few songs.

Kumar said, "Manjuji let us play chess in the afternoons when my wife teaches music to your husband." The house reverberated with their friendly laughter. The four elders had made a roster and shared housework. It was like returning to their hostel days!

After nine long weeks, the lock-down was lifted. The coronavirus was under control though no cure was in sight for the deadly disease. Prasad and Manju packed their bags eager to return to Mumbai.

"What are your plans now?" Manju asked Suraj and Deepa.

 "They will book their tickets as soon as international travel is allowed, won't you guys? "Kumar answered on their behalf.

"Well", Suraj replied, "there is so much meaningful work we could do here in the hospital systems across India. Somehow our lives in a distant foreign land has started seeming a little irrelevant to us, so we have been thinking of staying back in India to look for jobs here."

"Plus, it is impossible to get yummy sweets like this in Tamworth," added Deepa as she gratefully took a bowl of fresh rasagullas from Sushmitha aunty, Mrs Banerjee, who had been regularly spoiling her with home-made sweets.