The Singh marriage

Marriages are made in heaven and ever happy may the couple dwell,
but to endure the marriage day ordeal is to take a trip to hell.
Liberal sprinklings of rose water and maidens decked in gold,
stately proud chested gentlemen and grey ladies of old
chattering away to glory, I watch these scenes unfold.

The groom arrived to a bhangra tune, the joyful dancers pranced
We dug into the samosas, green chutney artificially enhanced.
Cricket is a game of talking rather than playing, said Pu La,
especially when you are in Singaporean company, uncouth
football aficionados trying to show us gentlemen they are cooler.
We thrashed them all right, after all, aroused gentlemen are hard
to resist, and they couldn't use their hands, the poor retards.

The bride stepped on to the podium, with a petite bridesmaid in tow,
she looked lovely in a pink ghagra choli, the bridesmaid, you know...
but the day belonged to the bride, literally decked to the neck
with baubles that cost a fortune on a special day for tradition's sake.
What tradition too, the DJ rapping as the pundit chanted in a language
alien to everyone there but I, yet revered, the kind that comes with age
yet causes rage when you fail at it in school, isn't that something?

As tamil rap and punjabi bhangra vied for attention, silk clad maidens
and women with shendur in their hair, in heavy sadis claden
talked about things totally unrelated, we walked down the aisle and
congratulated our friend on his initiation into the second phase.

The food was good, the payasam bad, with velchi in the tea
smelling so fine, as the pundit went on and on, with a svaha just to see
if people were still paying attention, they weren't. He could have read the
Satyanarayan there and walked off and none would be wiser, maybe
that's what he did. The shubhamangala savadhan was absent, instead was the
outcry of glory to lakshmi narayana. How ironic, I thought, with the bride being shaivite.

But no one noticed, and no one cared, for tradition is just an instrument of identity, I'm afraid.
The important thing, however, was that two people who agreed with each other took
vows to be faithful and loving to each other, and I could see it in their eyes as I shook
their hands. I hastened out, smiling at the bridesmaid, there was much to be done,
I was in the company of a few hundred people, yet still there was no one.