Monday, September 05, 2005

A South Indian Wedding in Ottawa

The journey from Plano to Ottawa started from the Dallas-Fortworth airport, early evening. Having reached the airport well before the scheduled departure, we whiled away at the bookstore, with little intent of buying anything in particular, but with the intention of indulging in general browsing – one of the must-be-done stuff while one is waiting at an airport terminal. This was followed by a 20 min indulgence of the taste buds at TGIF – another of the must-be-done things while one is waiting.(surprising, the best things in life are done while waiting for other things to happen!)

The Dallas-Chicago-Ottawa flight took almost 5 hours, some of which was spent leafing through the ‘Sky Mall’ magazine available in the flight. Amongst the other innovative stuff that was up for sale, what was most novel, were the range of products available for pets – from shoes to bed-ramps (yes, that’s a ‘bed ramp’ to assist your pet to get on board) – man, how I wish I had a dog’s life!

The journey finally ended after enduring a half hour at the Ottawa airport immigration. The ride from the airport to the wedding home revealed a city which was quite different from Plano – undulating roads in comparison to vast, flat lands; old-ish red brick houses against the more neat, modern structures around the Dallas area. Another noticeable feature of Canada is the equal use and presence of both the English and French languages – instruction boards, directions etc.

The wedding ceremonies commenced Friday morning with a series of Pujas, mostly involving the would-be bride, bride’s mother and various other family women. It can be quite amusing (or quite heart warming for some) to watch a dhoti-angavastram clad pujari chanting away hindu-slokas, surrounded with kanjivaram-clad, ‘kum-kum’ adorned maamis, along with the paraphernalia of flowers, brass-silver puja vessels, incense etc. in the backyard of a wooden-floored, red-bricked Canadian house. The puja series was followed by a typically south-indian fare of lemon rice, coconut beans curry, curd rice and pickle – painstakingly prepared by the women of the house (the same wedding back home would have been slightly different, with ‘halvais’ camped outside the wedding house, armed to take care of feeding guests, and hence easing some of the burden from the inmates of the household).

While the hustle-bustle of lunching guests continued in one end of the house, the backyard was getting stripped off the puja-remnants – to be prepared for the ‘mehndi’. The latter half of the afternoon had the bride, and friends of the bride getting hands hennaed, and many of us busy getting ourselves ready for the evening event. Through hair-dos gone wrong, missing shoes, misplaced gifts and the other things-that-must-go-wrong-in-a-wedding, we finally trooped out for the ‘Garden Party’ – which was a small get-together for families and friends of both sides – the bride and groom. We met, exchanged smiles (and gifts), indulged in general chatter, ate ‘poli’ and ‘gojju’ and got back to our hotel room.

Next morning was the main event – the wedding. It was held at the ‘Hindu Temple of Ottawa ’, which is a pristine structure in white. The wedding ceremony was held in a tent outside the temple. The guests comprised of families and friends from all over the world, friends from the local Indian community and also the local Canadians. The wedding ceremonies were carried out in the traditional style of any south indian wedding, starting with the ‘kashi yatra’. The bride was brought in seated in a basket, carried by the mamas, petrified at the prospect (no, not of getting married!) of falling off what appears to be a not very comfortable mode of transportation! What was more interesting for an Indian such as self, was not the wedding proceedings (which is an oft experienced affair back home), but the bemused (and confused) reactions of the non-Indian population present. Clad in attires as quaint as the proceedings were to them (like Scottish kilts, Japanese kimonos to a hairdo clasped in a chopstick-style hairpin) all presumably following the dress code stated for the occasion: traditional, Indian or western, they attempted to earnestly follow the ceremonies as listed down in the pamphlets handed out at the entrance.

The moment we all were waiting for, finally arrived – lunch (sundry, three hour long ceremonial affairs may be of immense entertainment value to a north American used to the staid Christian style wedding, but can prove to be arduous to a bunch of hungry, bored-to-death Indians). We feasted on some divine sambhar-rasam style spread, catered by yours-truly - Saravana Bhavan. So, a sumptuous lunch and various round-table-style chatter session, so typical of wedding get-togethers, was followed, predictably, by a blissful siesta, back in the hotel room.

The evening was allegedly the grind finale to it all – the sit down dinner reception. The venue was the National Art Gallery of Ottawa, a beautiful monument built in glass, metal and stone. The hall was set with round tables, with pre-designated seating (and menu) – which, theoretically means, you may have to stomach (along with the food) somebody you don’t like, dislike or are indifferent to. But as it turned out, true to our Indian style, we did some ‘adjust madi’ and shuffled up the arrangements to our liking (what to do, we are like this only!), and the rest of the evening was spent in good, old fashioned, warm Indian bonhomie. The evening started with the bride and bridegroom descending from an elevator from the glass dome of the hall (in very very Hollywood fashion), and then waltzing before the guests. The evening proceeded with short oscar style speeches in honour of the bride and bridegroom, given by family, friends and themselves. Various unintelligible (assuredly, only to the unsophisticated Indian palate like ours) food items appeared (how else, to do you explain, ‘Butter-soft Aubergine in appadam basket’!!) in between, served by ultra-chic “maître d'”. Some well-scripted speeches, glasses of wine and experimental dining later, the dance floor was left open, and yes, this was a point where we were back on home turf – indi pop!! Yet again, amusement galore to see Brits and Americans, dressed in their formal best, to sway and tap to the tune of ‘Mehndi laga ke rakhna’, ‘Dhoom macha le’ etc.

The hectic two days of the wedding, finally, wrapped up the next day with a brunch, which was a spread of various goodies, but as the hot fresh uttapams being dished out by an Indian chef in the backyard were most indulged in, that’s what I remember of it all. So thus came to an end, two days of meeting family, making new friends and the wedding celebrations, concluding, (putting it all in good humor) yet another Great Indian Wedding Tamasha!

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