Sunday's HT Brunch had a lead article on the big fat Indian wedding. When i read it- it was like deja vu. The night before I witnessed a ditto scene: Our neighbour's daughter's marriage. The wedding took place 10 kms away on the bye pass road to Chandigarh in one of the umpteen farmhouse turned party rentals. As we and similar dozens of cars headed towards it late evening, we were caught in a traffic jam of crazily loaded highway 'killer trucks'. You know the type- no indicators, no brake lights and one assistant who waves his hand to the left when the truck wants to turn right!
Well, when we finally reached, we lunged straight for the snacks like we've never seen golgappas, chats and the likes before. Then we offloaded the gift envelopes at the first sighting of the bride's parents. The congratulations were an afterthought. And then we tripped over each other to the dinner section sampling everything- indian, chinese, continental and ate ourselves sick (honest, by God). We turned away only because there was no space in our stomachs to sample the entire range of desserts. If that's not enough we left soon afterwards (without waiting for the pheras) because we were afraid we'd get stuck in the jam again. But we all realised that it was not the right thing to do. But guilt doesnt make a great condiment after all that gorgeous food. So the agreed reason was: It's the bride's father's fault! Why the hell did he choose this godforsaken place for the party? If he'd held it at the park behind our house we'd have sat through the whole ceremony!
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