Such Ostentation
Such ostentation
I went to another wedding sangeet yesterday, and now I feel I have had it with Punjabi big fat weddings, and this one was really that. Indians pride themselves on their simplicity, thriftiness and lack of consumption, but this is no longer in evidence at a Punjabi wedding.
This sangeet was in a hotel, it did not start until about 10 pm. When it did start, there was a ring ceremony, with video cameras and their attendant bright lights shinning on faces.
The women were all very dressed up; the focus was on the jewellery. Women were wearing 20 carat diamonds encasing their necks. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds dripping off fat women’s, noses and ears. The women were trying to out do each other, when they said hello, they looked first at the neck, judging whether the woman was worthy to talk to before moving on the next neck. The men pretended to talk while looking to the left and right to see if any one more important was nearby.
After the ring ceremony, there were dance numbers by young kids, then by young women, followed by older women. They danced to popular Bollywood hits like Mouja Mouja and Om Shanti Om. The dancing had been choreographed and obviously much practiced. All this was watched by the passive audience while stuffing their mouths with cheese puffs, spinach quiche and galoti kebabs.
The dinner spread was a mile long; they had about fifteen dishes of Indian food like biryani, rotis, rolled up paneer, kababs and dahi bhallas. There was a fresh pasta bar, followed by a zillion roasted, stewed and curried vegetables, fish and chicken. There was a salad bar, which was built like a mountain, with breadsticks and five kinds of bread, followed by olives, salami, ham, sushi, kimchi, asparagus and fresh tossed salad. The deserts were frambed fruit in brandy, cheese cake, gajar ka halwa, ice cream and chocolate sauce.
All the bases of everything were covered; alcohol flowed freely with scotch, champagne and wine heading the list. The richest Punjabis were all in attendance dressed to kill, every possible type of delicacy was present. Lest not anyone say we did not have this or that at her wedding. They went all out, over and beyond any imagination.
As I lay in bed recovering from what I had seen, I thought how much nicer it would have been if the same food had been fed to the poor, who live so close by us, for this one day of celebration. Let them experience how we live in our irreverence, our ostentation, our addictions and nihilism. Let them live this life just one day to experience it for themselves. How the rich Indian lives, splurges, clogs their livers and party another night.
I went to another wedding sangeet yesterday, and now I feel I have had it with Punjabi big fat weddings, and this one was really that. Indians pride themselves on their simplicity, thriftiness and lack of consumption, but this is no longer in evidence at a Punjabi wedding.
This sangeet was in a hotel, it did not start until about 10 pm. When it did start, there was a ring ceremony, with video cameras and their attendant bright lights shinning on faces.
The women were all very dressed up; the focus was on the jewellery. Women were wearing 20 carat diamonds encasing their necks. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds dripping off fat women’s, noses and ears. The women were trying to out do each other, when they said hello, they looked first at the neck, judging whether the woman was worthy to talk to before moving on the next neck. The men pretended to talk while looking to the left and right to see if any one more important was nearby.
After the ring ceremony, there were dance numbers by young kids, then by young women, followed by older women. They danced to popular Bollywood hits like Mouja Mouja and Om Shanti Om. The dancing had been choreographed and obviously much practiced. All this was watched by the passive audience while stuffing their mouths with cheese puffs, spinach quiche and galoti kebabs.
The dinner spread was a mile long; they had about fifteen dishes of Indian food like biryani, rotis, rolled up paneer, kababs and dahi bhallas. There was a fresh pasta bar, followed by a zillion roasted, stewed and curried vegetables, fish and chicken. There was a salad bar, which was built like a mountain, with breadsticks and five kinds of bread, followed by olives, salami, ham, sushi, kimchi, asparagus and fresh tossed salad. The deserts were frambed fruit in brandy, cheese cake, gajar ka halwa, ice cream and chocolate sauce.
All the bases of everything were covered; alcohol flowed freely with scotch, champagne and wine heading the list. The richest Punjabis were all in attendance dressed to kill, every possible type of delicacy was present. Lest not anyone say we did not have this or that at her wedding. They went all out, over and beyond any imagination.
As I lay in bed recovering from what I had seen, I thought how much nicer it would have been if the same food had been fed to the poor, who live so close by us, for this one day of celebration. Let them experience how we live in our irreverence, our ostentation, our addictions and nihilism. Let them live this life just one day to experience it for themselves. How the rich Indian lives, splurges, clogs their livers and party another night.
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