Accidentally, In love ( UNDER EDITING )

Chapter 14 : The Big Fat Indian wedding

                                     Chapter 14 : The Big Fat Indian wedding

“I told you we would be early.” I tell Arnaud with a superior air as we reach the venue The Hampton Inn Ann Arbor: a Suburban hotel famous for its architecture, delicious mouth watering dishes, impeccable hospitality and beautiful view of the city.

 The gleaming white structure, welcomes us. The lobby is a sight to behold with pastel curtains, huge chandeliers, plush carpet, tall lamp posts, French windows opening out to a wonderful view of the garden and a swimming pool behind the magnificent structure. The sofa sets look comfortable and complement the shade and color of the walls and curtains. It feels like I have entered the sets of some Hollywood flick.

There are tourists checking in, a few others are checking out, some people are reclining on the chaise with their laptops; apparently they have Wi-Fi availability in the whole hotel. Damn I should have got my phone with me; I could have sent the pictures to mom, maybe even showed her the whole event live on Skype.

I’m a moron. I didn’t want to carry my phone as I had no pocket to put it in, and I did not want to trouble Arnaud with that pesky device, as I’m sure my mum would be sending me an e-mail every half an hour asking what the bride had worn, whether her peers enquired about her, what was served in the menu.

I guess everything happens for good because now I can enjoy the wedding in peace, take a few photos from Arnaud’s I Phone and send them to mom.

Oops Arnaud is saying something while I’m looking around and having this whole conversation in my head. “It’s good to be early. I did not want to miss anything.” He says hurrying to the assigned room, like a child who is anxiously waiting to meet his favorite Disney characters.

“There’s nothing much to miss you know. A traditional south Indian Hindu wedding has many rituals. You will get bored.” I reply.

“With you by my side, I can never get bored.” He says with such sincerity in his eyes that my knees start to give way. Before I can reply he continues, “You are an amazing companion. In case I have never told you this before. Voila. Here we are.”

Thankfully we reached the assigned hall and that saved me from answering Arnaud’s compliments which took me by surprise. He holds the door for me, placing his hand at the small of my back to guide me, moreover to keep me steady and prevent me from falling.

I barely take notice of the way his hands feel just so right and perfect there.  Barely.

On one end the canopy is set up for the marriage procedures, while on the other there are chairs for the audience to view the rituals. The whole wedding is being captured live on camera and screened simultaneously on a huge flat screen in the hall so that everybody on the side can see it.

 A couple of old ladies have already formed their group and are minutely observing the rituals, constantly adding to the frenzy by pointing out the difference in marriages now and before. Every once in a while one can hear the "In my time..." and the whole band of septuagenarians start narrating the weird, embarassing, funny and sad moments from their weddings respectively.

The groom looks dapper in his kurta veshti quite similar to the one Arnaud is wearing but more royal and regal. He is performing a puja in front of a small fire which is worship of God by repeating the phrases from the scriptures after the priest.

Arnaud looks on with such eagerness; anyone watching him will think that he can understand each word that the priest utters.

I keep translating the important parts. “Now it’s the time for the bride to enter. Here she comes.”

We all turn to gawk or more sophisticatedly look at the bride. She looks resplendent in a long sequined red skirt with a silver blouse and red duppatta with intricate work on it placed on her head. Her hair is tied in a one sided braid and she is adorned with gold from top to toe. Her maternal uncles have held a white cloth before her.

Arnaud looks pretty confused and innocently asks, “Why is she hiding from him? Is she getting cold feet or something? Wait, don't tell me she is planning to run away that's why the cloth is used as a cover.”

I can't help but laugh and reply, “Give your hyper active imagination some rest. It's just a tradition. We believe that it's bad luck for the groom to see his bride as she enters.”

“Guess I won’t be able to look at you then if we get married the Indian style. That would be a pity because I’m sure you would look jaw droopingly stunning.” He says it so softly I wonder whether he actually said it or my mind has started to play tricks on me.

Fortunately it is time for kanyadaan and I did not have time to worry about Arnaud's comments.

In this ceremony the bride’s father places his daughter’s hands in those of the groom’s and the couple vow to accept each other in an equal partnership of love and respect. Arnaud looks on in interest as I tell him the significance of each ritual.

Arnaud is brimming with questions. It feels like he is going to do a PHD in Indian rituals and ceremonies.

After a few more rituals, the couple gets up to circle the fire four times.  Arnaud is curious why four. I explain how each circle stands for one goal of life : righteousness, wealth, desire, salvation. The groom then puts a necklace around the bride’s neck. This is the mangal sutra  which is made of gold with small black beads that represent the sacred union between them. He then applies vermilion to the parting of her hair.

Arnaud wants to know why the groom uses the necklace and vermilion. “ Well,These are both physical symbols that make her recognizable to the world as a married woman.”

“D’accord I wonder how you would look like in it!” he says  throwing me completely off hook.

This boy has certainly gone mad or is letting the wedding give him fancy ideas.

Finally the couple takes seven steps together making seven vows whose meaning I was constantly telling Arnaud.

 The marriage ends with the couple taking the blessings of their parents and elders.

“Now, French Boy it’s time to eat.” I tell Arnaud  who was so engrossed in the wedding that he completely forgot about food and I had no intention of being mean and eating alone, so all my poor stomach was left with was the Cheerios I had for breakfast hours ago.

Hand in hand we went to the open air terrace where the reception was held.

I was surveying the menu and to my absolute delight and  sadly Arnaud's horror, it was a vegetarain spread. Well that's what you get at a Traditional South Indian Wedding, take it or leave it.

Arnaud like a darling tried to be a sport and kept asking me to recommend some nice dish. I kept translating the names of the long Tamilian dishes in English and finally Arnaud chose what he liked.

We took our plates which were basically banana leaves placed together, piled high with food and sat  to eat.

"Bon Appetit ma cherie." Arnaud says like the Frenchman he is before we start eating. Having beome used to his ways by now I  nod my head and say, "To you too." 

I'm about to take the first morsel of food when a pair of hands cover my eyes and everything becomes dark. A soft voice whispers in my ears

“Guess Who?”

AN  : Sorry guys for the long wait. I hope you like this chapter. Any guesses with who this new person is? Please vote and comments. I