Many people have dreams of living in exotic places – mostly because travel industry, Hollywood, and people like those who are in charge of Lonely Planet promote it. But living in godforsaken places is not as much fun as it is being painted. A pest controller in UK once said on Times (of London) “People want to come to country to get close to nature, but when nature comes close to them, they want to kill it”. Fortunately for Messrs. Fox, Badger, & Squirrel, the guy routinely turned down silly requests to put Strychnine in their food.
Here is a
trite description of daily affairs from one of those exotic places – Sri Lanka. One of
the things that hit your head like a brick at a wedding here is that there are no historical wedding customs here. No wonder Sir Ivor Jennings said
that Sri Lanka
is a cultural desert. From matrimonial attires to best man & bride’s maid,
and from there onwards to incantations of Jayamangala gaatha, and then to the point
of culmination that is called Exchanging Rings, it’s all a Western affair. In between
and shortly after the aforesaid, a hell of lot faux western events takes place,
finally concluding with honeymoon and home-coming. Oh, and the rest of the
stuff are either Indian imports or quite recently added events having absolutely
no historical root.
As much as
I love my friends, relations, & colleagues, I hate weddings. I just can’t
stand the cultural melt pot. Here I am, dressed in my Sunday best, at another
wedding. Not knowing anyone else in there except for the bride (who, I must
add, is a fine young lady of good upbringing) and her parents, I sat at a corner
table away from the public eye. Fortunately for me some nice family with a
charming young daughter came along seeking seating arrangements and as luck
would have it, sat at my table. Considering that I despise vehemently the ranting
of Ashtakha Man, I was desperately seeking for some diversion. Till they came
it had been my phone. And once they came, no ice-breaker came and I delved back
into my phone. Ashtakha Man was ranting on some king Okkaka, I could never work
out how this guy is related to people in Sri Lanka, but his name crops up at
EVERY wedding, and that at some length. The mere mention of the name is
Strychnine to me, which is incidentally derived from nux vomica plants. The
connection being that Okkaka rhymes with Okkara (meaning nauseas in
Sinhalese) and I say unto ye, these Ashtakha Men bring up that name to the
point of , of, ad nauseam.
Again, luck
was on my side. The young lady’s dad was of conversational type and he broke
the ice, and I found myself in good company. Praise be to G-d, I could take my
mind off the faux-western procession going on, which now it seemed a million
miles away. Interestingly, the guy turns out to be an ex-government officer on
the same wavelength. This is a rare find indeed. During the rest of the
wedding, besides chatting up the young lady, I was busy trying to persuade him
to write up his memoirs on his days at the government department. But the thing
didn’t take wings as he was rather concerned with offending some people (by
writing it up).
So what
about the wedding? Well, I have known the bride & her family for over a
quintillion years and I have nothing but good to say about them. She followed
her heart’s desire and married someone she fell in love with at 15. The groom
turned out to be an affable young man himself, with a good secured position in
IT industry, and his family seemed to be OK type too. What else could a young
girl desire in life. Crowd was in a jovial mood and there was merriment
everywhere, which is indeed a good omen. The venue was nice too, being a hotel
at the sea front with some grand architecture, although I couldn’t agree with
the service that much. With such a fine young couple in our presence with all
their hopes & dreams poised to become reality, who cares about service!
Here is
wishing them a blessed married life with bliss all throughout their lives and
those of their posterity. Shalom.
