More than two decades ago, my princeling cousin brother was astride his steed to fetch his bride. I, heady with a mix of elation and a few afternoon tots of rum, was dancing out front along with village locals, as raucous as Shiva's hordes. Just when the villagers dived down to collect the small change showered from above, I was unceremoniously yanked away into the family fold, where I received a stiff upper lip reprimand in a voice terse with pedigree: "Baraat ke aadmi naachtey nahin!”" (Family folk do not dance in public.) For a half-blood ne'er-do-well like me, that was that.
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Cut to the recent marriage of Padmini Singh of Kanota Thikana in Rajasthan and Karni Singh of Amarkot in Sindh, Pakistan – a brilliant experience which will be equally unforgettable. It began in Jaipur airport, where the ubiquitous 'Sid' of the city was anointed 'Hukum' (the term being reserved to address Rajput gentlemen of consequence) by the chauffeur. I wasted no time in giving a twirl to my abundant facial fur.
But first, the night before the wedding. Spoilt by the legendary hospitality of the bride's father Thakur Man Singh (a schoolmate from Mayo College, Ajmer) and many of the old boys for company, the evening was devoted to the fine art of abject indulgence, revelry and gluttony. The joke was 'let's see who makes it to the R.I.P. roll of honour for next old boys' reunion'. Well, for a Thikana (house) one of whose forebears was commander-in-chief of the erstwhile Jaipur State forces, some cavalier banter was quite in order.
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The morning after, the wedding venue Narain Niwas was a sea of colour, lit up and resplendent. Turbaned minions, marigolds and jasmine, caparisoned elephants, et al. Rajput men, old and young, gathered in small groups, decked up quite literally, to the hilt. The Thakur men swaddled up in their sherwanis, brocade cummerbunds, velvet scabbards dangling by the side, engraved sword hilt held low and sticking out like a Colt 44 in a spaghetti western.
What was most pleasing was the fact that unlike big-fat top dollar marriage ceremonies in big cities, there are no hired 'safa wallahs' who will put rented, pre-tied headgear on heads of city-slickers-turned-aristocracy for the evening. Barring outsiders, almost all men wore their own safa or paag, tied in their own regional styles, from Mewar to Marwar. At that moment, they looked like they'd been dipped in a marinade of centuries old pride, valour and chivalry. Starched, plumed and geared for a coronation.
The ladies were something else. A stunning riot of colour, the Rajput women were a lovely sight in their traditional finery — red, blue, green, pink and yellow chiffon sarees, lehnga-choonri with intricate embellishments and classic jewellery from head to toe. Not to mention the beautiful ladies from Pakistan, setting off unabashed second and third glances from men. So much colour, I'll bet a whisker that Andy Warhol would've keeled over and passed out. Unlike the anything-goes designer-wear blitzkrieg in uppity city weddings, elegant grace was the loudest adornment to be seen here.
The measured tread and almost whisper-speak made Bai-sa Bling (being a term of address for nobility among Rajput ladies) actually a study in poise and refinement. That was until they were huddled into the 'Zenana' (ladies' chambers) to receive the groom, who arrived on a liveried pachyderm fit for a prince. The marriage was a closed-door affair and so we set off for the cocktails where melt-in-mouth kakori kebabs sparred with laal-mas not recommended for western tummies. To the regalement of the Kalbeliya gypsies, Dholiyas' drums and the flailing-wailing Manganiyar, we celebrated till almost dawn.
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People often poke fun at their decadent ways in a contemporary world. I say that in the real, absurd and eventually pointless world, make-believe often serves to be a savior of sorts. Anyway, with so many trying to live in the 'now', somebody's got to live in the past.
Siddheshwar Wahi is creative writer, art director and film-maker. He can be located on solitary village roads when not sitting on an edit.
