Maharashtrians, Marriages and Madness

We Maharashtrians, as a people, are not known for being fun. Let’s face it: if you’re looking for a wild night about town, the chances are slim that you’ll look to your Marathi friend to organise one. And so, naturally, Maharashtrian family functions tend to be rather staid, the weddings in particular ranking as the third most boring way to wed, after court marriages and temple weddings.

Punju weddings are nine-day booze-and-dance extravaganzas, where the only one more drunk than the wedding party is the bridegroom. Maadu weddings are 4-day dramas full of showbiz and entertainment, where even the priest cracks jokes. Maharashtrian weddings are a one-day affair, where everybody needs to wake up early and go to office the next day. Back me up here, Jer.

And the most important part of the wedding isn’t the happy couple. Oh no. It’s the gifts. Who-gave-what-to-whom-and-is-it-better-than-what-we-gave-see-I-told-you-the-dinner-set-was-a-bad-idea. All the couple has to do is stand still while people go about performing strange ceremonies around them, sit still while they’re pronounced husband and wife, and later, stand still while being introduced to roughly a thousand people they’ve never met before and will never meet again. It’s a wonder wedding-night sex even happens.

The reason for this outpour? I had to attend a christening on Saturday. One of my cousins gave birth to a bonny baby boy I knew nothing about till that day. I went with the mater and an aunt in tow, sat alone staring around, texting people and then composing this post in my head. For about three hours. And then went and made polite conversation with various female relatives, all of whom were my mom’s age. I saw people cribbing, bitching about the food, critically evaluating the return-gifts and sweet-talking, in the finest traditions of my family. I don’t have the right words to describe the evening.

But I should’ve known it wouldn’t exactly turn out great. I mean, the morning started out fantastically, didn’t it?

I open one sleep-crusted eye to find my aunt peering critically at me. I smile drowsily. It’s a dream, that’s what it is. She gives me a friendly grin and asks, eyebrows waggling, “So… any marriage plans yet?”

Wrong. It’s a nightmare.

4 thoughts on “Maharashtrians, Marriages and Madness

  1. Wow, I want to work there one day. I’m in my second year, in a starkly over rated course called BMM. That Saint Gobani one was straight out of a this mail I got. Just added the copy to it. It’s quite shit anyways. I actually did a funny campaign ( A competitor for Fevicol, tough I know!) as an entrant in an ad festival. One day I’ll show it to Mr.Awasthi (He works on fevicol no?) Good one on the marriages by the way, haha!


  2. this mulgi talking vaiphal badbad. Marathi peoples are good. our the weddingses even gooder. baarsa, munja, boranaana and all is goodest in hole wold. Toooday eet ees this girl. tomarrow everyone talking like this, laughing at us. we must have to stop this. lets go burn bus and riksha in shivaji park. sorry, riksha not having in dadar. let us all sabhasad untie and burn bus taxi vagaire in shivaji park. By orderSheev shyena


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s