Stories of our weddings

[rkumar]

Dear Friends,

Wedding is something very special in each one's life. Each one of us has a story of our own wedding to share. Our wedding albums tell only a small portion of story. Motivation of starting this thread comes from the story my father and mother used to tell about their wedding and how other "Baraties used to share the experience. Wish my parents could get their wedding photographed. Anyway, let me begin with my own story.

When I left for UK for studies, time and again I was reminded not to get involved with a "Firangi" girl. I suppose this was standing advice to most of us going overseas for education in those days. Being an obedient son (...) I kept my promise and came back to India in one piece. As soon as I arrived, the news spread like wildfire. Marriage proposals starting pouring literally on hourly basis. Mind you this was not for the first time that marriage proposals came. First time it was when I was studying in 12th class. It was not unusual in those days to get married that early. Many of my classmates got married around that time and had grown up kids by the time they completed their studies.

Proposal after proposals were coming but not the type of one I was looking for. I wanted that my future wife should be a doctor and preferably a gynecologist. There were many reasons behind this wish. First and foremost was my sense of being discriminated being a non-medical in a medical institution. Second was to have some sort of independence in putting up a hospital in my hometown. With this background, my encounters with most of the parents of the girls was extremely brief and ended just after courtesy tea. There were hardly many Jat girls who were doctors or were doing MBBS in those days. My search for bride came to a stand still almost. However, proposals kept coming. During all this I happened to meet a Doctor in Shamli. Once again the issue of marriage proposal sprang up. As usual my answer was same. This Jat doctor was married to a Punjabi girl. He happened to know a Jat girl who just completed her MBBS. Plot was hatched...LOL. He became the facilitator. He wrote to the girl's family and as expected, girl's mother dashed to Shamli to meet me. It was a very cordial meeting. I was highly impressed by the intellectual level of my future mother-in-law. It was decided that I meet the girl and for which I had to depend on Doctor facilitator. Like all marriage facilitators this one also started showing all his "nakhras". Finally one evening He, his wife , myself and one of my friend reached Meerut Medical College where girl (my future wife at the time) was doing DGO. She had no clue that we were coming and that too to meet her for matrimonial purpose. She came out of her hostel in her night gown. It was reasonably dark and I could not see her face even. She was told of everything. She went up and then came down in Saree. We were given the privacy of car to talk to each other. Her voice was the one which attracted me more than anything else. Her looks were very near to the description already given to me.

We came back to Shamli and then started the real weekly exchange of letters between me and my future mother-in-law. No one in the family, including girl understood clearly what my profession was and what all I will be doing in a hospital in India. It seems other than her mother no one in the family was sure if I was the right type of boy for her. Lack of understanding of my qualifications and profession was the main culprit. No breakthrough came for almost 4-5 months. I gave up and wrote a polite letter. It was July 1977 and raining. I had joined AIIMS by this time.
Suddenly I found two young men knocking my door. To my surprise they were girl's brothers. I showed my usual "nakhras"..LOL. Finally good news came that family was ready to move ahead. After a long time I could feel springs under my feet. World was suddenly more colorful. We got
engaged on 19th August 1977 and the weekly visits to Meerut and letter writing "silsila" started. Every week sharply at 7 AM I used to arrive in Meerut Medical College. Whole day used to slip in seconds. It was a sort of poor man's romance which used to cost hardly Rs 15 ever week for bus tkt and cinema tkts and 100 gram "moongfali". Most memorable and romantic part of these weekly visits was "cinema hall me moongfali cheel kar, uski giriyan unko dena"...

....to be continued...

 

[deependra]

Wow.. amazing. Thanks RK uncle ji for sharing this story. It seems that the family must have been waiting for you to start your career before taking it to the next level.
Eagerly, Waiting for the next segment

 

[rkumar]

....Continued

During week days there was hardly any mode of communication available other than writing and receiving letters. My letters were mostly on Post office inland letters and plain papers, while her's were on printed colorful letterheads. My letters were usually lengthy and her's were mostly 10 liners and rarely full page ones. I was very judgmental about the quality of her letters. May be this was because of higher expectation of romantically oriented stuff in letters. I used to give grading to all her letters...LOL. This reminds me of a very long letter I ended up in writing to her. I had an empty notebook from a conference recently held in AIIMS. AS usual I started from page of the notebook, thinking that I will tear off the sheet. Letter did not end on first sheet and continued till the end of notebook which had 36 pages. I posted the entire notebook. That letter became the talk of her friendship circle. ( I still carry all the letters written by both of us and my mother-in-lw which she wrote till we got engaged).

This "silsila" of letters and weekly visits continued till wedding day. During my weekly visits I had the great opportunity of meeting many of her friends in hostel and listening to all those girly gossips. Every now and then new love stories used to surface. Once in a while break up stories used to come in open with loud cries. Routine continued and my then fiance completed her DGO and joined her MD course. Now the talks of wedding started. "Tewa" came on 19th February 1978 and 5th March 1978 was fixed for the wedding. My elder brother-in-law told me that their family is strictly "Arya-Samaji" and would prefer if only five baraties came. Those words were like "Sanjeevni Booti to me. Reason was not that I wanted to take five baraties, but the cost involved in wedding. I hardly had any money at that time. All my savings were consumed in paying back my UK education loans and for my sister's wedding. I never believed in spending borrowed up money and that too on my own wedding. After all it was my wedding and I was supposed to be in full control. To be truthful, I did not have any budget for my wedding. Only essentials were the cloths my family was supposed to give for the girl. Total money I could spare for my wedding was only Rs 2000.00, a paltry sum even by the standards of those days. I decided to handover the money to my wife (then fiance) and wash off my hands. There was no scope for any jewelry or anything expensive. Five baraties included only my brother, father, uncle, mama and my brother-in-law. One Ambassador was all we needed. No trouble of baraties being late or any drinking related problem. We were supposed to reach Bazpur (Distt. Nainital in those days) by 12 Noon. Sharply at 12 Noon we arrived at the designated spot. My same brother-in-law was waiting for us. He was shocked to see that we were five. He could not say anything as it was as per his wish.

Came the time of reception. One the one side we were like five "Banwasi Pandawas" and on the other side the massive "Kaurwa" army of family and friends of girl. In crowd not many could identify who the baraties were. Reception looked like as if I was going for a movie audition. I was too nervous in front of the massive crowd from the girl's side. It was "Haryanvi pagdis" all around few few UP topis from my side. I had to walk literally alone to the varmala podium. I was outnumbered by many times by intimidating Haryanvi future "salis". My wedding photos showed my condition very well. Even those B/W photos could not hide my tense face.

"Fera" ceremony started. In my anxiety I could hardly remeber the pace at which it was proceeding. We were announced wife and husband.

......to be continued..

 

[rkumar]

... Continued

After the "fera" ceremony, when I was leading my wife inside house for other ceremonies, feeling was very unique. There was sense of satisfaction, stability and fulfillment. First step towards future dreams had been taken. Both of us entered inside a room where large number of ladies from her side were present. WE were asked top do all those hand printing etc on the wall and photographs with the ladies of the family. Then came the traditional request of "Chchand" recitation. I had no idea of what to recite. Few weeks earlier I wrote an English poem, imagining that just got married. I recited that very poem. The first line of the poem is; " Goodbye my last bachelor day goodbye".

After the lady ceremony we had dinner and the usual offering of sweet to each other in the presence of all the " sallis". It might sound strange but I met many of my wife's close family members for the first time only during the wedding. Dinner was ober and I along with other baraties went to the "Barat House".

Comes next morning, the "Vidayee Day". We were taken to my wife's house and I was offered a chair where one by one ladies came and blessed me with sweet and money. Suddenly from no where " Baddies ( rural gymnasts) appeared and performed a great show. I feel that was the most unique show of my wedding and I can venture to claim that except me no one ever had such a show in his/her wedding.

It was a lovely sunny day. We were waiting now for the "Vidayee". Anxiety was increasing by minutes. My wife emerged from the room followed by ladies singing "vidayee" geet. It was getting emotional. Ambassador car was waiting with open back door. My wife was being escorted to the car. As she reached near the car, suddenly her cry went into the air loudly. My father-in-law was holding her and also crying. Believe it or not, tears rolled down my eyes too. To hide my tears I had to move quite away from the scene. Finally we had to take leave as we had to reach Shamli before it was too late.

We had only one car and now there was an extra passenger. Role of baraties was also over....LOL. Someone has to move out of car now. Best was that all the elders move out and take the bus back home. Exactly this was done. We came back to my village via Meerut. As soon as our car passed Medical College, my wife suddenly bent forward to hide herself, lest some one known sees her. It was really funny.

We finally arrived home and were ready for home entry ceremony. It was almost 7 PM and there was not much light except two lanterns. Not many ladies could see clearly the "Bihali Bahoo". We were too tired by this time. Had food and went to sleep. Next day ladies of the village came in hoards to see my wife. My poor wife had tough time dealing with them. My wife's being a doctor did not bring any concession from the ladies... Emotionall that was too much for her to handle. Anyway, it all ended well....and... and .. the wedding ceremony came to the happy end. There was no reception from my side for the reasons already explained...

So, in summary, my wedding was a Rs 2000.00 wedding with no invitation cards, no bands, no reception...and no honeymoon in the formal sense. Its totally another story that our honeymoon continued till 29th July 2004 when she breathed her last...

This was my story friends. Hope to hear your stories now.

RK^2

 

[desijat]

Uncle ji, great memories but as they say pictures speak a lot of words too

 

[urmiladuhan]

... Continued

After the "fera" ceremony, when I was leading my wife inside house for other ceremonies, feeling was very unique. There was sense of satisfaction, stability and fulfillment. First step towards future dreams had been taken. Both of us entered inside a room where large number of ladies from her side were present. WE were asked top do all those hand printing etc on the wall and photographs with the ladies of the family. Then came the traditional request of "Chchand" recitation. I had no idea of what to recite. Few weeks earlier I wrote an English poem, imagining that just got married. I recited that very poem. The first line of the poem is; " Goodbye my last bachelor day goodbye".

After the lady ceremony we had dinner and the usual offering of sweet to each other in the presence of all the " sallis". It might sound strange but I met many of my wife's close family members for the first time only during the wedding. Dinner was ober and I along with other baraties went to the "Barat House".

Comes next morning, the "Vidayee Day". We were taken to my wife's house and I was offered a chair where one by one ladies came and blessed me with sweet and money. Suddenly from no where " Baddies ( rural gymnasts) appeared and performed a great show. I feel that was the most unique show of my wedding and I can venture to claim that except me no one ever had such a show in his/her wedding.

It was a lovely sunny day. We were waiting now for the "Vidayee". Anxiety was increasing by minutes. My wife emerged from the room followed by ladies singing "vidayee" geet. It was getting emotional. Ambassador car was waiting with open back door. My wife was being escorted to the car. As she reached near the car, suddenly her cry went into the air loudly. My father-in-law was holding her and also crying. Believe it or not, tears rolled down my eyes too. To hide my tears I had to move quite away from the scene. Finally we had to take leave as we had to reach Shamli before it was too late.

We had only one car and now there was an extra passenger. Role of baraties was also over....LOL. Someone has to move out of car now. Best was that all the elders move out and take the bus back home. Exactly this was done. We came back to my village via Meerut. As soon as our car passed Medical College, my wife suddenly bent forward to hide herself, lest some one known sees her. It was really funny.

We finally arrived home and were ready for home entry ceremony. It was almost 7 PM and there was not much light except two lanterns. Not many ladies could see clearly the "Bihali Bahoo". We were too tired by this time. Had food and went to sleep. Next day ladies of the village came in hoards to see my wife. My poor wife had tough time dealing with them. My wife's being a doctor did not bring any concession from the ladies... Emotionall that was too much for her to handle. Anyway, it all ended well....and... and .. the wedding ceremony came to the happy end. There was no reception from my side for the reasons already explained...

So, in summary, my wedding was a Rs 2000.00 wedding with no invitation cards, no bands, no reception...and no honeymoon in the formal sense. Its totally another story that our honeymoon continued till 29th July 2004 when she breathed her last...

This was my story friends. Hope to hear your stories now.

RK^2

Wow! Nice life story . I have personal experience of women being mean to new comer in the family but I guess that is part of the culture. I now get good laughs out of them. What exactly did the village women say to the new bride that got her emotional?

 

[rkumar]

Wow! Nice life story . I have personal experience of women being mean to new comer in the family but I guess that is part of the culture. I now get good laughs out of them. What exactly did the village women say to the new bride that got her emotional?

My wife had slightly dark complexion. You can imagine what sorts of comments must have come. Most loud one was ; " jihani (my mother), tera launda ke kurdi pe khada thaa ke itnee kali bahu mili use.....hahhahaa ".. My wife was crying really by the end of that "Numayash".. . Result of this experience was always visible in the treatment those ladies got from my wife. Being a true Haryanvi woman, my wife was no less. She was Sr Gynecologist and later on head of gyne department at RML Hospital in New Delhi. At some or the other time all those village ladies had to face my wife. They got best of the medical attention but never got the attention from "Gaon ki bahoo". At personal level my wife remained very indifferent to majority of them. ..

RK^2

 

[urmiladuhan]

My wife had slightly dark complexion. You can imagine what sorts of comments must have come. Most loud one was ; " jihani (my mother), tera launda ke kurdi pe khada thaa ke itnee kali bahu mili use.....hahhahaa ".. My wife was crying really by the end of that "Numayash".. . Result of this experience was always visible in the treatment those ladies got from my wife. Being a true Haryanvi woman, my wife was no less. She was Sr Gynecologist and later on head of gyne department at RML Hospital in New Delhi. At some or the other time all those village ladies had to face my wife. They got best of the medical attention but never got the attention from "Gaon ki bahoo". At personal level my wife remained very indifferent to majority of them. ..

RK^2

That was indeed a mean comment for a new bride. Perhaps she was jealous of your mother who got such an educated bahu- so she pointed out something that she thought could hurt your mother, not knowing that in the process she is hurting her future medical help! Really, I mean, a negative mind set can only bring loss.

 

[urmiladuhan]

... Continued

After the "fera" ceremony, when I was leading my wife inside house for other ceremonies, feeling was very unique. There was sense of satisfaction, stability and fulfillment. First step towards future dreams had been taken. Both of us entered inside a room where large number of ladies from her side were present. WE were asked top do all those hand printing etc on the wall and photographs with the ladies of the family. Then came the traditional request of "Chchand" recitation. I had no idea of what to recite. Few weeks earlier I wrote an English poem, imagining that just got married. I recited that very poem. The first line of the poem is; " Goodbye my last bachelor day goodbye".

After the lady ceremony we had dinner and the usual offering of sweet to each other in the presence of all the " sallis". It might sound strange but I met many of my wife's close family members for the first time only during the wedding. Dinner was ober and I along with other baraties went to the "Barat House".

Comes next morning, the "Vidayee Day". We were taken to my wife's house and I was offered a chair where one by one ladies came and blessed me with sweet and money. Suddenly from no where " Baddies ( rural gymnasts) appeared and performed a great show. I feel that was the most unique show of my wedding and I can venture to claim that except me no one ever had such a show in his/her wedding.

It was a lovely sunny day. We were waiting now for the "Vidayee". Anxiety was increasing by minutes. My wife emerged from the room followed by ladies singing "vidayee" geet. It was getting emotional. Ambassador car was waiting with open back door. My wife was being escorted to the car. As she reached near the car, suddenly her cry went into the air loudly. My father-in-law was holding her and also crying. Believe it or not, tears rolled down my eyes too. To hide my tears I had to move quite away from the scene. Finally we had to take leave as we had to reach Shamli before it was too late.

We had only one car and now there was an extra passenger. Role of baraties was also over....LOL. Someone has to move out of car now. Best was that all the elders move out and take the bus back home. Exactly this was done. We came back to my village via Meerut. As soon as our car passed Medical College, my wife suddenly bent forward to hide herself, lest some one known sees her. It was really funny.

We finally arrived home and were ready for home entry ceremony. It was almost 7 PM and there was not much light except two lanterns. Not many ladies could see clearly the "Bihali Bahoo". We were too tired by this time. Had food and went to sleep. Next day ladies of the village came in hoards to see my wife. My poor wife had tough time dealing with them. My wife's being a doctor did not bring any concession from the ladies... Emotionall that was too much for her to handle. Anyway, it all ended well....and... and .. the wedding ceremony came to the happy end. There was no reception from my side for the reasons already explained...

So, in summary, my wedding was a Rs 2000.00 wedding with no invitation cards, no bands, no reception...and no honeymoon in the formal sense. Its totally another story that our honeymoon continued till 29th July 2004 when she breathed her last...

This was my story friends. Hope to hear your stories now.

RK^2

My mothers comment on the highlighted portion (and mind you, she is a typical haryanvi village jatni): "सादा ए माणस स"!

 

[cooljat]

.

Wow Uncle ji, Your wedding story is B'ful and deep touching and the way you narrated it .. simply superb.
Few parts of your wedding story kinda resemble to my 'to be' story and therefore making me lil anxious.

 

[rkumar]

My mothers comment on the highlighted portion (and mind you, she is a typical haryanvi village jatni): "सादा ए माणस स"!

Very kind of your mother. Please convey my very humble regards to her. Of course many thanks to you as well for conveying the remarks.

RK^2

 

[rkumar]

.

Wow Uncle ji, Your wedding story is B'ful and deep touching and the way you narrated it .. simply superb.
Few parts of your wedding story kinda resemble to my 'to be' story and therefore making me lil anxious.

I can imagine. My only suggestion would that you remain in control and don't let others spoil the moment. Make it as beautiful and sweet as you can. Be a good "Damad".

Best of luck

RK^2

 

[sumitjattan]

Rejendra Sir app ka vo 5 bratiyo wali baat pe khush hona sach mein aacha laga ... may such thoughts prevails in whole caste ... agar aisa hoto kitni paise ki wastage bach jaaye aut paisa kahi aachi jagah invest ho

I can imagine. My only suggestion would that you remain in control and don't let others spoil the moment. Make it as beautiful and sweet as you can. Be a good "Damad".

Best of luck

RK^2

 

[rkumar]

Rejendra Sir app ka vo 5 bratiyo wali baat pe khush hona sach mein aacha laga ... may such thoughts prevails in whole caste ... agar aisa hoto kitni paise ki wastage bach jaaye aut paisa kahi aachi jagah invest ho

Baraties are often loose canons and end up spoiling the festivities. I have seen this happening in many weddings. If possible never invite potential trouble makers. If possible, have day's wedding and not the night one. Day's wedding are not only convenient, but more entertaining and enjoyable. Time is another issue, Late barats are most irritating. Try to make wedding as traditional as possible. Be innovative and look for new ideas. Make sure that wedding is a great experience and creates ever lasting memories. Unless one plans in advance, things are likely to get out of control.

RK^2

 

[bls31]

ExTRACT FROM ny book

A Soldier’s Journey through Life with Two Wives

I had earlier created a major crisis by not touching the feet of the old man. Good or
bad, right or wrong but I had not been initiated in this fine art of winning the hearts by
touching feet, some how it was not a tradition in our family. In her family and circle
it was the done thing, even if the touching of feet was notional, the ritual performed
at time from a distance of a couple of feet by just extending the hands in the general
direction of the victim’s feet. How I hated it but I knew it was a passing phase to
endure be it till I got married
The ceremony was planned to be held at some time in early part of the night of
21stNovember 1958.We were supposed to leave in the evening for the venue; 18 Old
Survey Road, the residence of Jitender Choudhry the architect of our coming union.
I started to get ready, the pajama is supposed to be tight and rather difficult to put on, got struck at the heels, needed some effort on my part and was managed with some pushing and pulling. The shirt, socks and the slippers were not too difficult to put-on. My brother tied the turban on my head in our traditional village style, finally I did put my arms in the sleeves of the Gold thread Achkan which had become the major road block in our marriage, even at that very late stage, till some sixth sense prevailed and I relented.

Strange that it may appear I do not recall even stealing a look at Rosy the day we were married; even at the time of the exchanging of the garlands. I was hoping that we will have an occasion together after the ceremony but she was whisked away and I was escorted to the dining table.

With the priest giving his sermon and advice I was genuinely getting apprehensive of shouldering the responsibility of married life, with the question hovering in my mind of my ability to come to the expectations of the one sitting next to me. I was not too sureif I deserved her or her blind faith in me. However, I loved her intensely, blindly and therefore I needed her.


The pictures taken of the two ceremonies the Vedic and the Anand Karaj show both
of us with thoughtful and contemplative expressions on our respective faces. What was
disturbing me at that time I knew; what was going through her can only be a matter of
conjecture: possibly the expectations of our being together, apprehensions of entering
a new family, an unknown future or may be she was feeling a blank overwhelmed with the swiftly moving events of the last few days, the yo - yo like swing between Yes and No unknown to me but happening in front of her eyes, of hopes surging and dying alternately till the last moment. Even in the group photos taken just before our departure she had the distant look in her eyes.



I have seldom felt guilt for my actions in life. However the one I can remember was the occasion when departing from the venue of the wedding with my new bride.

I was the witness to the loud crying and howling, some ritualistic and other genuine.
I did feel like asking Rosy to get down from the car and rejoin the wailing crowd.
Mercifully on the driver turning the ignition key the engine caught on, the driver
shifted the gear, pressed the accelerator while releasing the clutch and thank God the
car speeded out of the gate. I too was quickly out from the flight of sentimentality. The
good intentions lasted only till the car started, now that at last Rosy was with me, no
way was I prepared to let go of her.

Life now hopefully had more meaning and promise, that I had an equal partner
accompanying me through the Journey.
bls31

 

[drrajpalsingh]

... Continued

After the "fera" ceremony, when I was leading my wife inside house for other ceremonies, feeling was very unique. There was sense of satisfaction, stability and fulfillment. First step towards future dreams had been taken. Both of us entered inside a room where large number of ladies from her side were present. WE were asked top do all those hand printing etc on the wall and photographs with the ladies of the family. Then came the traditional request of "Chchand" recitation. I had no idea of what to recite. Few weeks earlier I wrote an English poem, imagining that just got married. I recited that very poem. The first line of the poem is; " Goodbye my last bachelor day goodbye".

After the lady ceremony we had dinner and the usual offering of sweet to each other in the presence of all the " sallis". It might sound strange but I met many of my wife's close family members for the first time only during the wedding. Dinner was ober and I along with other baraties went to the "Barat House".

Comes next morning, the "Vidayee Day". We were taken to my wife's house and I was offered a chair where one by one ladies came and blessed me with sweet and money. Suddenly from no where " Baddies ( rural gymnasts) appeared and performed a great show. I feel that was the most unique show of my wedding and I can venture to claim that except me no one ever had such a show in his/her wedding.

It was a lovely sunny day. We were waiting now for the "Vidayee". Anxiety was increasing by minutes. My wife emerged from the room followed by ladies singing "vidayee" geet. It was getting emotional. Ambassador car was waiting with open back door. My wife was being escorted to the car. As she reached near the car, suddenly her cry went into the air loudly. My father-in-law was holding her and also crying. Believe it or not, tears rolled down my eyes too. To hide my tears I had to move quite away from the scene. Finally we had to take leave as we had to reach Shamli before it was too late.

We had only one car and now there was an extra passenger. Role of baraties was also over....LOL. Someone has to move out of car now. Best was that all the elders move out and take the bus back home. Exactly this was done. We came back to my village via Meerut. As soon as our car passed Medical College, my wife suddenly bent forward to hide herself, lest some one known sees her. It was really funny.

We finally arrived home and were ready for home entry ceremony. It was almost 7 PM and there was not much light except two lanterns. Not many ladies could see clearly the "Bihali Bahoo". We were too tired by this time. Had food and went to sleep. Next day ladies of the village came in hoards to see my wife. My poor wife had tough time dealing with them. My wife's being a doctor did not bring any concession from the ladies... Emotionall that was too much for her to handle. Anyway, it all ended well....and... and .. the wedding ceremony came to the happy end. There was no reception from my side for the reasons already explained...

So, in summary, my wedding was a Rs 2000.00 wedding with no invitation cards, no bands, no reception...and no honeymoon in the formal sense. Its totally another story that our honeymoon continued till 29th July 2004 when she breathed her last...

This was my story friends. Hope to hear your stories now.

RK^2

Superb indeed !!!

 

[drrajpalsingh]

ExTRACT FROM ny book

A Soldier’s Journey through Life with Two Wives

I had earlier created a major crisis by not touching the feet of the old man. Good or
bad, right or wrong but I had not been initiated in this fine art of winning the hearts by
touching feet, some how it was not a tradition in our family. In her family and circle
it was the done thing, even if the touching of feet was notional, the ritual performed
at time from a distance of a couple of feet by just extending the hands in the general
direction of the victim’s feet. How I hated it but I knew it was a passing phase to
endure be it till I got married
The ceremony was planned to be held at some time in early part of the night of
21stNovember 1958.We were supposed to leave in the evening for the venue; 18 Old
Survey Road, the residence of Jitender Choudhry the architect of our coming union.
I started to get ready, the pajama is supposed to be tight and rather difficult to put on, got struck at the heels, needed some effort on my part and was managed with some pushing and pulling. The shirt, socks and the slippers were not too difficult to put-on. My brother tied the turban on my head in our traditional village style, finally I did put my arms in the sleeves of the Gold thread Achkan which had become the major road block in our marriage, even at that very late stage, till some sixth sense prevailed and I relented.

Strange that it may appear I do not recall even stealing a look at Rosy the day we were married; even at the time of the exchanging of the garlands. I was hoping that we will have an occasion together after the ceremony but she was whisked away and I was escorted to the dining table.

With the priest giving his sermon and advice I was genuinely getting apprehensive of shouldering the responsibility of married life, with the question hovering in my mind of my ability to come to the expectations of the one sitting next to me. I was not too sureif I deserved her or her blind faith in me. However, I loved her intensely, blindly and therefore I needed her.


The pictures taken of the two ceremonies the Vedic and the Anand Karaj show both
of us with thoughtful and contemplative expressions on our respective faces. What was
disturbing me at that time I knew; what was going through her can only be a matter of
conjecture: possibly the expectations of our being together, apprehensions of entering
a new family, an unknown future or may be she was feeling a blank overwhelmed with the swiftly moving events of the last few days, the yo - yo like swing between Yes and No unknown to me but happening in front of her eyes, of hopes surging and dying alternately till the last moment. Even in the group photos taken just before our departure she had the distant look in her eyes.



I have seldom felt guilt for my actions in life. However the one I can remember was the occasion when departing from the venue of the wedding with my new bride.

I was the witness to the loud crying and howling, some ritualistic and other genuine.
I did feel like asking Rosy to get down from the car and rejoin the wailing crowd.
Mercifully on the driver turning the ignition key the engine caught on, the driver
shifted the gear, pressed the accelerator while releasing the clutch and thank God the
car speeded out of the gate. I too was quickly out from the flight of sentimentality. The
good intentions lasted only till the car started, now that at last Rosy was with me, no
way was I prepared to let go of her.

Life now hopefully had more meaning and promise, that I had an equal partner
accompanying me through the Journey.
bls31

Really the writing is a piece of art !!!

 

[urmiladuhan]

ExTRACT FROM ny book

A Soldier’s Journey through Life with Two Wives

I had earlier created a major crisis by not touching the feet of the old man. Good or
bad, right or wrong but I had not been initiated in this fine art of winning the hearts by
touching feet, some how it was not a tradition in our family. In her family and circle
it was the done thing, even if the touching of feet was notional, the ritual performed
at time from a distance of a couple of feet by just extending the hands in the general
direction of the victim’s feet. How I hated it but I knew it was a passing phase to
endure be it till I got married
The ceremony was planned to be held at some time in early part of the night of
21stNovember 1958.We were supposed to leave in the evening for the venue; 18 Old
Survey Road, the residence of Jitender Choudhry the architect of our coming union.
I started to get ready, the pajama is supposed to be tight and rather difficult to put on, got struck at the heels, needed some effort on my part and was managed with some pushing and pulling. The shirt, socks and the slippers were not too difficult to put-on. My brother tied the turban on my head in our traditional village style, finally I did put my arms in the sleeves of the Gold thread Achkan which had become the major road block in our marriage, even at that very late stage, till some sixth sense prevailed and I relented.

Strange that it may appear I do not recall even stealing a look at Rosy the day we were married; even at the time of the exchanging of the garlands. I was hoping that we will have an occasion together after the ceremony but she was whisked away and I was escorted to the dining table.

With the priest giving his sermon and advice I was genuinely getting apprehensive of shouldering the responsibility of married life, with the question hovering in my mind of my ability to come to the expectations of the one sitting next to me. I was not too sureif I deserved her or her blind faith in me. However, I loved her intensely, blindly and therefore I needed her.


The pictures taken of the two ceremonies the Vedic and the Anand Karaj show both
of us with thoughtful and contemplative expressions on our respective faces. What was
disturbing me at that time I knew; what was going through her can only be a matter of
conjecture: possibly the expectations of our being together, apprehensions of entering
a new family, an unknown future or may be she was feeling a blank overwhelmed with the swiftly moving events of the last few days, the yo - yo like swing between Yes and No unknown to me but happening in front of her eyes, of hopes surging and dying alternately till the last moment. Even in the group photos taken just before our departure she had the distant look in her eyes.



I have seldom felt guilt for my actions in life. However the one I can remember was the occasion when departing from the venue of the wedding with my new bride.

I was the witness to the loud crying and howling, some ritualistic and other genuine.
I did feel like asking Rosy to get down from the car and rejoin the wailing crowd.
Mercifully on the driver turning the ignition key the engine caught on, the driver
shifted the gear, pressed the accelerator while releasing the clutch and thank God the
car speeded out of the gate. I too was quickly out from the flight of sentimentality. The
good intentions lasted only till the car started, now that at last Rosy was with me, no
way was I prepared to let go of her.

Life now hopefully had more meaning and promise, that I had an equal partner
accompanying me through the Journey.
bls31

Same here. It was and still is not the tradition. Many a times the elders call out to the youngster "ला पुचकार दूँ ! (No feet touching). the elder person then places his/her hand over the youngsters head and that is the end of the matter.

 

[urmiladuhan]

ExTRACT FROM ny book

A Soldier’s Journey through Life with Two Wives

I had earlier created a major crisis by not touching the feet of the old man. Good or
bad, right or wrong but I had not been initiated in this fine art of winning the hearts by
touching feet, some how it was not a tradition in our family. In her family and circle
it was the done thing, even if the touching of feet was notional, the ritual performed
at time from a distance of a couple of feet by just extending the hands in the general
direction of the victim’s feet. How I hated it but I knew it was a passing phase to
endure be it till I got married
The ceremony was planned to be held at some time in early part of the night of
21stNovember 1958.We were supposed to leave in the evening for the venue; 18 Old
Survey Road, the residence of Jitender Choudhry the architect of our coming union.
I started to get ready, the pajama is supposed to be tight and rather difficult to put on, got struck at the heels, needed some effort on my part and was managed with some pushing and pulling. The shirt, socks and the slippers were not too difficult to put-on. My brother tied the turban on my head in our traditional village style, finally I did put my arms in the sleeves of the Gold thread Achkan which had become the major road block in our marriage, even at that very late stage, till some sixth sense prevailed and I relented.

Strange that it may appear I do not recall even stealing a look at Rosy the day we were married; even at the time of the exchanging of the garlands. I was hoping that we will have an occasion together after the ceremony but she was whisked away and I was escorted to the dining table.

With the priest giving his sermon and advice I was genuinely getting apprehensive of shouldering the responsibility of married life, with the question hovering in my mind of my ability to come to the expectations of the one sitting next to me. I was not too sureif I deserved her or her blind faith in me. However, I loved her intensely, blindly and therefore I needed her.


The pictures taken of the two ceremonies the Vedic and the Anand Karaj show both
of us with thoughtful and contemplative expressions on our respective faces. What was
disturbing me at that time I knew; what was going through her can only be a matter of
conjecture: possibly the expectations of our being together, apprehensions of entering
a new family, an unknown future or may be she was feeling a blank overwhelmed with the swiftly moving events of the last few days, the yo - yo like swing between Yes and No unknown to me but happening in front of her eyes, of hopes surging and dying alternately till the last moment. Even in the group photos taken just before our departure she had the distant look in her eyes.



I have seldom felt guilt for my actions in life. However the one I can remember was the occasion when departing from the venue of the wedding with my new bride.

I was the witness to the loud crying and howling, some ritualistic and other genuine.
I did feel like asking Rosy to get down from the car and rejoin the wailing crowd.
Mercifully on the driver turning the ignition key the engine caught on, the driver
shifted the gear, pressed the accelerator while releasing the clutch and thank God the
car speeded out of the gate. I too was quickly out from the flight of sentimentality. The
good intentions lasted only till the car started, now that at last Rosy was with me, no
way was I prepared to let go of her.

Life now hopefully had more meaning and promise, that I had an equal partner
accompanying me through the Journey.
bls31

For a function I wore an Achkan along with bottom punjabi salwar and my dress code was not appreciated by a haryanvi jat. Although he never explained the reason but I think it has got to do with Achkan being a Muslim dress - but I am only guessing. Why did Achkan become a hurdle in your marriage ceremony?

 

[singhvp]

Same here. It was and still is not the tradition. Many a times the elders call out to the youngster "ला पुचकार दूँ ! (No feet touching). the elder person then places his/her hand over the youngsters head and that is the end of the matter.

पुचकारणा तो ठीक सै, पर म्हारे टेम मैं तो कई बुढ़िया पट्ठे इसे बिगाड़ दिया करदी कि दुबारा ओरिजिनल चिड़िया बिठाणी मुश्किल हो जाया करदी I उनके सामने कंघी करना भी अच्छा नहीं लाग्या करदा I मौका देख के माथे का पसीना पूछण के बहाने हाथ तैं ज़ुल्फ़ ठीक करणी पड्या करदी I ईब तै खैर काफी मज़बूत hair gel मिलण लाग गे, जयादातर cool dudes सींगड़ जैसी spike खड़ी करण लाग गे I सर पुचकारण का रिवाज़ भी कुछ कम होग्या I हाय, बाय, हाइया, सी या का ज़माना आग्या I