 Baraat south Indian style
In addition to being M S Subbulakshmi’s first anniversary, 11 December assumed importance in Chennai as a popular muhurtam day. There were weddings galore and you really had to prune and pick and choose, if you proposed to retain your sanity in the chaotic traffic made worse by the incessant rains. My family and I zoomed in on two - one that of the daughter of a cousin and the other that of the son of very close friends. One was at T. Nagar and the other on Radhakrishnan Salai, so we had to leave home rather early in the morning. The second one was a repeat visit as we had taken part in an enthusiastic, often loud, music session the previous afternoon.
Despite the weather and traffic, it turned out to be a delightful experience, mainly, because both weddings, though traditional, were different from the general run, involving a degree of national integration. There was a touch of romance to both, as the young people had chosen their partners. At the T. Nagar wedding, the bridegroom, the son of Gujarati-Maharashtrian parents, was gorgeously dressed in turban and sherwani, and arrived on horseback, welcomed by an unmistakably south Indian bride’s party. There was much gaiety as the boy’s family, men and women, sang and danced and made merry, to be received by relatively subdued but joyous hosts. There was exquisite nagaswaram music as is the custom. After playing some traditional kritis, the vidwan joined in the general spirit of bonhomie and played what was perhaps the only Hindi song he knows - a film number that goes “Ek do teen char paanch chhe saat aath nau dus gyarah barah
terah!”
I have rarely seen such spontaneous enjoyment at a wedding. I would have to go back a few decades in memory to dig out a similar experience. The whole experience was enhanced by the beautiful costumes in contrasting styles worn by the two families.
At the other wedding, the music session was made memorable by the uninhibited and wholehearted participation by one and all, especially the oldest members of the group. One lady, in particular, clad in the most traditional silks, sang some wonderful Hindi film songs, when Carnatic music was what we expected from her. Among the men too, there were veterans who belted out old numbers from Manna De and Mukesh, Rafi and Lata, and the atmosphere was surcharged with nostalgic
fervour.
The balance was restored in favour of the young when two girls, daughters of Parsi-Tamil parents, gave a standout performance of professional standards, singing ghazals and qawwali from recent films. To top it all, there was superb ‘kalyana sappadu’, and you couldn’t help wishing for more of the same - and I don’t mean the food.
V Ramnarayan
vramnarayan@gmail.com
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