sun senses and ceremony ..

                                I walked fast covering my forehead to escape the punishing sun of Dubai. As usual I had left my cap in a hurry. But this September heat simply bore through the clothes to scald your skin. I felt like a boiled egg on the breakfast table waiting to be served. And because I could never find those made for me kind of sun glasses, the roads, smooth like a cake icing, blinded me.

Praying for the heat to miraculously dip, I stepped out of the shade of the solitary tree (I am being too generous) braced for the impending onslaught. No sooner did it strike, some neurons in some part of my brains got working. I focused to feel it again; my neurons diving in deep to seek that moment in memory. I had certainly felt this heat before, at some point in my life. There have been words, sights or even scents which have reminded me of some point in the past. But it had never been the heat.

With a few more steps, I had my Eureka moment. Running across the fields along with my younger brother and cousins, I was praying the same. Place - Gaya, Bihar. Occasion – Uncle’s Marriage. Year – June 1995.
I could never understand why summers were chosen for such elaborate occasions. The bride and the groom of all the people ended up more harassed than ever.

Being on the grooms side we were all a part of the baraat comprising of some 80 odd people. Kids, youths, middle aged and olds but mostly men. Females were relegated to kids up to around 12 years of age. The marriage having its roots in the village had to follow the village norms. And therefore no girl above the age of 12 could accompany a baraat. What must have started as a means to save the womenfolk from the hassles of travelling long distances had now stuck as a part of rural dogma.

So kids and elders were grouped under the charge of few young men who enthusiastically went about stuffing us in jeeps. We were dressed up by our mothers in bright magentas, parrot greens and deep golden yellows, bought obviously by a part of the dowry amount. But there were a few of the so called lower castes who didn’t bother to or may be didn’t have anything new to wear.

Water bottles were carefully counted and handed over to the elders. Every object, be it a match box or a mud ‘kothari’, if it could hold something it had to be preserved. Gong by it, since plastic bottles were acquired once in a while, they were among the upper leagues of such objects. Three stuffed jeeps and a bus reached the bride’s village.

Where in every one got down to dance their way to the destination.  My cousin and I decided against dancing in the baraat, already overflowing with men. So we watched them from a distance, wishing we could be there too.The groom’s party was welcomed.

We were directed towards the terrace where the food was to be served. Had it been a buffet a melee would have ensued soon. Foreseeing that may be, the hosts themselves serve the guests. While we sat in lines akin to those in ‘Gurudwara’, nimble hands filled our plates with paneer, aloo parval, poori, raita, chicken and sweets. While others jumped on to it like flood victims, I couldn’t eat a single bite without wondering if the light worms have decided to lay their lives in our bite.

Post dinner, the groom, famished by then was carried to the stage in a ‘Palki’ held up by the relatives, a stark contrast to the movies we had grown watching, wherein the bride was carried in a ‘Palki’. Soon the ‘Jaimaal’ followed, wherein the bride and groom garland each other in the presence of hundreds of people clapping, showering flowers. We got a chance to stand besides our uncle. T’was a high point for the villagers who wished to be seen as ‘modern’, while the elderly looked down upon it as a poor influence of western culture. How could a respectable family brandish their daughter/daughter-in-law like this?

We were shown our tents to change and sleep. Six kids in a tent meant for three, topped with a relentless summer night. The only wind that blew was the ‘loo’. But I guess we were too tired to ask for another option. The marriage went on the whole night while we slept. We had planned to get up early to explore the nearby area.

Next morning, our eldest cousin, who had just passed out of IIT, and was then the most eligible bachelor joined us with his college friend. We went around the village alleys hoping for an adventure. One of the families called us in for breakfast, to which we happily agreed. Then we trotted off towards the orchards. Picked up a few stones and tried our luck but no results. And while we were contemplating climbing up the tree to get hold of some ripe mangoes, some shouted ‘Run!!, the owner of this orchard is  coming here to catch us.’ And we ran to save our lives not even once thinking, whether it was true or not. Adventure!!

Running across the fields along with my younger brother and cousins, I was hoping to reach the marriage tent before turning into cinders. In between we saw a hand pump and everyone got pulled towards it. Two slim banana trees tried to be generous with their shade and we couldn’t be more grateful them. We splashed our faces with the cool ground water and splayed over our hands and feet. This was the only high point of our escapade.

We got back and joined the ceremony, giving each other furtive smiles to acknowledge our exploits. While we sat there my cousin point pointed towards the small colorful gifts which were hanging from the ‘Mandap’. After enough restraint, we started pulling them one by one and soon we were into a competition of who gets collects more. Even as the pandit tried to concentrate on the ceremony, we strained and bent over people to pull more. In no time the bamboo and thread mandap gave away and we were shown a ‘better’ place to sit. Sitting in another corner of the tent, in front of an old table fan, I wondered when would I get back and sleep in peace with my mom.

While I was thinking this I reached my class. In that journey of about a minute or two, I had revisited yet another of my colorful childhood days. I took out my laptop, opened a case study and got down to revise it, lest I be caught fumbling with the answer…..