returned to Mumbai, trying to hide behind the dark glasses I had on throughout the flight, looking like I’d been run over by a truck full of elephants. I refused to be captured raccoon-eyed by the ‘omnipresent photographers’ at the airport, exhausted by the dancing and eating, and eating and dancing (gallons of feni and kilos of bebinca were consumed by all, even though I’m not much of a feni drinker).
We’ve all been exposed to big, fat Punjabi weddings (thank you, Yash Chopra!) and Gujju ones (courtesy Sanjay Leela Bhansali) and Marwari ones (via the Barjatyas). Hell, a week earlier, I even made the nightmarish mistake of watching a ‘modern wedding’ in Shaandaar. It scared the living daylights out of me and I thought I’d be scarred for life.But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to
Related: http://www.sheindressaustralia.com/wedding-dresses-adelaide
But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to Goa — beautiful, serene laid-back, fun-tastic Goa for the “ Papaji “of all weddings — half-Punjabi/Sindhi and half Goan Catholic. So, here is the lowdown on a big fat Goan Catholic Punjabi wedding !
The beautiful ceremony was held at one of the oldest churches there. That morning must’ve seen the strangest crowd ever assembled in its history — a fusion of customs and costumes.The only similarity I found in Shaandaar,was the mother fabulously played by Sushma Seth, and all my Sindhi and Punjabi aunts, all the gushing, diamonds dazzling on their teeth (wonder who thought of sticking a small crystal on one’s tooth for a extra sparkly smile!) and their bodies — well... not sure if it was the makeup, bronzer, shimmer or the Goan heat getting under their heavy brocaded blouses). The
The Goan aunts with their big-hipped (a la Dimple Kapadia in Finding Fanny) lace frocks, threatening to fatten you up on the sausages even before you’ve learnt their name... After all the hugging-shugging and an impromptu “milni” outside the church between the two families, the ceremony began in full attendance and no delays (shocking that Padu and Dhru Maasi and Dolly Aunty finished their make-up on time and that Uncle Albert and Rodrick weren’t keeling over the pews hungover from last night!).
At the chapel, during the ceremony, my niece gave me her bouquet to hold and I mock-threatened all my other unmarried nieces that I’d throw it in their direction. They went along with it, ducking and hiding, not one of them willing to be the next to tie the knot.And
Also see: http://www.sheindressaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
And OMG! I said the exact Auntyji words to them I once cringed at: ‘Who’s next at the altar, girls?’ Flashback: It’s one of the most annoying things I have had to endure. Single me thronged by aunts who’d gang up to ask the question and taunt, ‘Ab beta, next teri baari hai?’. At the time, in my heart, I knew it was far from the truth. I was in a traumatic relationship with a non-committing friend. In my defence, I’d crack a joke and say that I was still looking for Mr Right while partying with all the Mr Wrongs.
We’ve all been exposed to big, fat Punjabi weddings (thank you, Yash Chopra!) and Gujju ones (courtesy Sanjay Leela Bhansali) and Marwari ones (via the Barjatyas). Hell, a week earlier, I even made the nightmarish mistake of watching a ‘modern wedding’ in Shaandaar. It scared the living daylights out of me and I thought I’d be scarred for life.But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to
Related: http://www.sheindressaustralia.com/wedding-dresses-adelaide
But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to Goa — beautiful, serene laid-back, fun-tastic Goa for the “ Papaji “of all weddings — half-Punjabi/Sindhi and half Goan Catholic. So, here is the lowdown on a big fat Goan Catholic Punjabi wedding !
The beautiful ceremony was held at one of the oldest churches there. That morning must’ve seen the strangest crowd ever assembled in its history — a fusion of customs and costumes.The only similarity I found in Shaandaar,was the mother fabulously played by Sushma Seth, and all my Sindhi and Punjabi aunts, all the gushing, diamonds dazzling on their teeth (wonder who thought of sticking a small crystal on one’s tooth for a extra sparkly smile!) and their bodies — well... not sure if it was the makeup, bronzer, shimmer or the Goan heat getting under their heavy brocaded blouses). The
The Goan aunts with their big-hipped (a la Dimple Kapadia in Finding Fanny) lace frocks, threatening to fatten you up on the sausages even before you’ve learnt their name... After all the hugging-shugging and an impromptu “milni” outside the church between the two families, the ceremony began in full attendance and no delays (shocking that Padu and Dhru Maasi and Dolly Aunty finished their make-up on time and that Uncle Albert and Rodrick weren’t keeling over the pews hungover from last night!).
At the chapel, during the ceremony, my niece gave me her bouquet to hold and I mock-threatened all my other unmarried nieces that I’d throw it in their direction. They went along with it, ducking and hiding, not one of them willing to be the next to tie the knot.And
Also see: http://www.sheindressaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
And OMG! I said the exact Auntyji words to them I once cringed at: ‘Who’s next at the altar, girls?’ Flashback: It’s one of the most annoying things I have had to endure. Single me thronged by aunts who’d gang up to ask the question and taunt, ‘Ab beta, next teri baari hai?’. At the time, in my heart, I knew it was far from the truth. I was in a traumatic relationship with a non-committing friend. In my defence, I’d crack a joke and say that I was still looking for Mr Right while partying with all the Mr Wrongs.
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