First the wedding. It was held at a beach resort in Kovalam. Most of the ceremonies were held in the evening on the beach. The settings were magical. The host was meticulous about the arrangements, having thought of every detail (an ex-private banker, but probably could now have a second career as a wedding planner). He is married to my wife’s school friend who is from Bengal,he is from Assam, now happily settled in London. The groom was from Ireland. The bride's elder sister got married to an English boy two years ago.
The Irish like the Indians tend to be family oriented. You had a large contingent of Paddies who participated very actively in form and " spirit (s)" in all the functions. To the loud blowing of conch shells, the groom dressed in a kurta and dhoti and desperately hanging on to a red umbrella ,arrived on an elephant. While sliding off the elephant we were all concerned that his dhoti would unravel, but he was quite adept at holding it together.
During the hour plus it took for the rituals, the pandit ji stopped mid way many times, got up, rummaged in his various plastic bags for the necessary ingredients Wearing a traditional conical Assamese head gear the groom patiently sat through the rituals. Watching the expression on the bride’s face it was obvious she was having a ball and was having a difficult time keeping a straight face. People went up and down the mandap. Photographers climbed all over to get the best shots. For the Irish the informality of the ceremony was probably a contrast to their solemn Catholic Church wedding which is to follow in a few weeks.
After the ceremony the dinner seating was communal with the waiters lungis tied above the knees, ladling traditional Keralite food out of steel buckets, onto the banana leaves. You had a choice of eating with your fingers or spoons .
In the midst of this, you had a young English boy, about eleven or twelve years of age, running around offering to fetch drinks for the guests (from the bar which was about 200 yards away) for Rs.20. The guests were initially taken back, but seeing the gumption of the young lad, went along. Soon a number of other children offered to do the same. The prices started coming down and hit rock bottom of Rs.5.
As in a real free market, dirty tricks started and a rumor was spread that the boy’s main competitor – a young girl about the same age, was spitting in the drinks. To control the damage, the girl went to all the tables denying it. This was such a classic case of creating a market, competition bringing the prices down. Dirty tricks in trying to oust the competition.
To cap the ceremonies there was a performance by the indomitable Usha Utap almost in her fifth decade as a performer, but with her traditional repertoire of oldies, had the guests – the Indians, the Irish , the English and other nationalities, on their feet until sadly it had to come to an end around mid-night.The only thing missing was a perhaps a rendition of Danny Boy !!!
On my way back thinking about the cross cultural wedding and the young entrepreneurial children, I have come to the conclusion that if I had to bet on one country in Europe, it would be Britain. It has a bright future.
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