Aanandhi stood on a low platform-like stool and almost threw a maroon and white skillfully woven garland of rose petals around Arun's neck like a hoopla, hooking him for life.
Arun stood on the floor with a similar garland in his hands for his bride.This inequality in flooring had nothing to do with differences in height. Rather it was the traditional respect given to welcome the new princess into the family. Perhaps you're imagining a wedding hall with dazzling lights and jarring music challenging the greetings of friends and relatives. No, no, these weddings are typically held at the ancestral houses of these people which housed the wedding of their parents and their grandparents before them.
As the groom's mother is a good friend of mine, we landed at their house the previous day and observed the decorations - red and white balloons in an arch shape at the entrance. Rows of streamers lined the sides. The majestic wooden pillars were draped in pure white satin cloth with maroon and gold linings on the top. A temporary stage background in cloth caught our attention with the words,'Arun weds Aanandhi' written on it.
After a brief get-together, we went to a neighbouring house where dinner was served. This gave us a chance to look around.
The quiet village : I say quiet because there wasn't the sound of traffic or any other movement. In fact the residents have mostly left their houses in the charge of some caretakers and have moved out in search of newer trades. Only weddings and other family functions bring the families back home.
Karaikudi and the villages around it bear evidence of the spirit of adventure, voyage and trade of their ancestors. One house had a pair of horses with their riders built in at their entrance to welcome us. Another palace had statues of the favourite Shiva - Parvati couple with their son Muruga to bless those who entered. Below them were a pair of little flying angels with open garlands in their hands. A mixture of Greek and Indian mythology!
The house we had dinner in had a sweet little garden in it with a mixture of fruit trees and flower plants. What once must have been something like a porch and a wayside rest place for the passers-by was now covered and protected by about five-six grill doors. The house inside reminded me of a neat little railway station - long and almost unending.
The Chettinad food is known to be typically different and mouthwatering. So we were experimenting with each item and trying to guess their ingredients. The pulp of brinjal with coriander leaves, carrot and pumpkin in a curry... the list goes on...with cold chocolate on seaweed as dessert.
While returning we gaped at some more sculptors and wondered at the different interests of these adventurers of old. Back home some elders were threading some gold figures onto a yellow thread: in fact two rows of thread. A miniature golden house at the centre with two golden hands on either side. This was to be the main symbol of their wedding. After the fun of exchanging garlands some 3-5 times, the bridegroom would gift his bride with this necklace, tying three knots around her neck in the process.
My friend showed us the gifts she had been saving for her daughter - in - law to be for the past few years: beautiful sets of clothes, handbags, watches, silver vessels, scent bottles and even some handkerchiefs. After some reminisces and giggles about how we used to go shopping together and return in a horse cart even when other neighbours had a laugh at us, she showed us our room in the house and we prepared to rest. Or so we thought. At four o'clock in the morning we were woken by the sound of running water and were surprised to find the young groom's female colleagues at his MNC happily lining up for bath. They had come all the way from Bangalore city to this village in Karaikudi. In the night they were in casual Jeans and T-shirt, eagerly watching the specialties of this village and its culture. In the morning they were stunning in churidars and with accessories. The boys were unbeatable in white and white dhoties.
After a sumptious breakfast of idlies, uttappam, pongal,vadai and kesari we moved on to the beautiful carved temple where the bride's people came to receive and claim the bridegroom with gifts of a watch, a ring and a fresh set of clothes. Wearing these and a colourful turban he set out for the bride's house in an open car instead of the traditional horse for the ensuing ceremony.
That was how my friend passed on her son to the care of his young bride.
