Yesterday my grandfather’s niece and family visited us. They had come down to India from Singapore for their twelve year old son’s upanayanam. The evening before, Thatha had informed Appa that it had gone very well. They were doing very well and had come with gifts for everyone. Many of the guests who had been at their wedding had made approving remarks. He was beaming. My Thatha never beams so it caught my attention. Why was Thatha so uncharacteristically pleased? I later asked.
Fourteen years ago Leela Akka (the bride) had fainted in the middle of her wedding. I remember that image: her lying on the floor, surrounded by a crowd of people while her mother sat beside her wailing. What I did not know about was the complete mayhem that followed, which put everyone present in a tizzy. Apparently it is common knowledge that such a turn of event puts the bride’s family in an extremely precarious position. The groom’s side usually postpones the wedding until further investigations are made or even pulls the plug entirely. It reeks of dirty play and immediately arouses everyone’s suspicions, explained Appa. Like what? My bewilderment was genuine. Like the possibility of the bride’s family not being entirely honest about her health, in essence withholding potentially disadvantages information and trying to sneakily pass her off - Like damaged goods. After all, Fainting can be the sign of epilepsy or any other disorder.
It is only when you hear these stories do you realise the implications of marriage being a contract between two families. And like all official agreements it must be clean, untainted and transparent, preferably without the fine print. By not questioning the sanctity of the contract and tossing Leela out of the mandhap (which I assume is the standard response when your prospective wife faints) Ramesh the groom, had in effect, demonstrated (much to our relief), his enhanced goodness and virtuosity. This thread ceremony was a public statement to the world, a display of their success at being a good brahmin family, in spite of the catastrophe during that auspicious day. It was an attempt to restore their respectability and status, hence the extravagant event. Amazing.
Fourteen years ago Leela Akka (the bride) had fainted in the middle of her wedding. I remember that image: her lying on the floor, surrounded by a crowd of people while her mother sat beside her wailing. What I did not know about was the complete mayhem that followed, which put everyone present in a tizzy. Apparently it is common knowledge that such a turn of event puts the bride’s family in an extremely precarious position. The groom’s side usually postpones the wedding until further investigations are made or even pulls the plug entirely. It reeks of dirty play and immediately arouses everyone’s suspicions, explained Appa. Like what? My bewilderment was genuine. Like the possibility of the bride’s family not being entirely honest about her health, in essence withholding potentially disadvantages information and trying to sneakily pass her off - Like damaged goods. After all, Fainting can be the sign of epilepsy or any other disorder.
It is only when you hear these stories do you realise the implications of marriage being a contract between two families. And like all official agreements it must be clean, untainted and transparent, preferably without the fine print. By not questioning the sanctity of the contract and tossing Leela out of the mandhap (which I assume is the standard response when your prospective wife faints) Ramesh the groom, had in effect, demonstrated (much to our relief), his enhanced goodness and virtuosity. This thread ceremony was a public statement to the world, a display of their success at being a good brahmin family, in spite of the catastrophe during that auspicious day. It was an attempt to restore their respectability and status, hence the extravagant event. Amazing.
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