Weddings in North India, especially those in Delhi and Punjab, are often associated with larger-than-life images and flamboyance beyond reality. These weddings are expected to be big and fat - in terms of the invitations, venues, budgets, food options, costumes and even the number of people on the guest lists. In many families, these are considered once-in-a-lifetime events and they do not hesitate to spend a sizeable portion of life savings. While how a wedding should be is entirely a personal choice, I intend to share the fascinating story of the thinnest and the smallest Punjabi weddings I have ever come across! By no means do I want to denigrate the big fat wedding or glorify the thin small one, it is only an attempt to bring forth diverse stories.

This story is about three Punjabi weddings in the 1970s, 80s and 90s. The beginning is a bit dated as it originates from my grandparents.

About my grandparents

During my last hometown visit, my grandmother told me that she was a brilliant child. She went to school in kachhi (raw), perhaps the Nursery of those times, and was immediately shifted to pakki (ripened) class due to her quick learning ability. The same year, she was moved to Class I. She said, “I don’t know how that happened.” An English Lady was mighty impressed and awarded her a letter to teach in any school up to class five. Eventually, she completed the fifth standard and won a scholarship for further studies. Her brothers refused as it involved the risk of sending her to a different town and would be unsafe. They said, “Rather than sending you to an unsafe place, we better throw you in the river.” I was shocked, but she told me she wasn’t disappointed and had expected this reaction. While my grandmother is a brilliant woman, she was born in a conservative environment where the family always followed the rituals, traditions and customs. On the other hand, my grandfather was a very straightforward man, without any rebellious or controversial stories. He always gave us two life goals - living life and loving the family.

My grandparents gave birth to three sons. Yes! All three boys! They raised them to the best of their abilities, like all parents do, striving hard to make ends meet and providing for a good education. All three boys, now full-grown men, are educated, working and married. My dad is the second child, and we are four kids in the third generation, extremely close and connected. One of the reasons is that we almost think alike; we share our origins and values.

The weddings in the family

My grandmother is an intelligent and reasonably conservative woman. But I feel she likes breaking barriers. All three of her boys fell in love and married in small thin weddings.

The first is my Taya Ji and Tayi Ji's (paternal uncle and aunt) wedding in the latter’s house. My uncle insisted that only five people must accompany him. My father voluntarily stepped out. There was a minimal gathering of twenty people, with simple home-cooked food but loads of love and laughter. My uncle wore a white kurta pyjama, and my aunt wore a simple salwar suit. After the wedding, they hired an auto to come home.

The second is my parents’ wedding. My dad is my mama’s (maternal uncle) best friend; they all grew up together. Their wedding, a bit elaborate compared to the one above, was still simple. My dad says, “As if we had a choice! We had no money!” They hired a student learning photography and borrowed a friend’s car for the vidaai (bride's parting). My father wore a t-shirt because the tailor went to his village, unannounced, for an emergency. As luck would have it, my dad’s friend who was supposed to get the car fell asleep, and my parents had to sit on a scooter with a third person driving them home.

My Chacha and Chachi's (younger paternal uncle and aunt) wedding should have been more flashy. By then, our middle-class family had some money in the post-liberalisation India of the 90s. But to our pleasure and disbelief, it was the simplest of all. They married in our house. We were excited beyond limits. All of us, including the bride’s side, stayed together, sleeping on beddings on the floor. We celebrated for almost two weeks - only fifteen of us!

Finally, onto the small thin weddings!

That’s how love, weddings, and marriages have worked in our family. Although it may exude a bit of arrogance, I am proud of them. Beyond the lights and glitter, the extravagant menus and food stalls, and the designer lehengas and sherwanis, these weddings remind us of the most important element: love!

I was fortunate to have found a family who understood my origin. My husband and I got married on our college campus. The Dean allowed all our relatives to stay in the college guest house. All the arrangements were made by my new family who welcomed my parents to their city.

In the last few years, weddings have become a lucrative opportunity for businesses - ranging from event planners to caterers to fashion designers to huge teams of photographers. While capitalism provides employment and boosts the economy, it also creates divide, pressure and guilt. Big fat weddings may have their charm but the thin small ones can also be extraordinary. Ultimately, it does not take much.

I feel, although my grandmother would never admit it, she is the reason we had such weddings. Some people lead, but not from the front.

Dedication: My Tayi Ji is physically no more with us, this blog is a tribute to her free spirit. We are sure she will read it and laugh out loud, as she always did!

Now published at: https://www.momspresso.com/parenting/684f238cd2794e31b9caebff76477121/article/the-small-thin-punjabi-weddings-ya9v5dza4qt8