The Indian Express (Delhi Edition)
I Do, For Less
The case for extravagant weddings
TO CURB the lavish show of pomp and glitter at weddings, the Jammu & Kashmir government has passed an order that only seven dishes may be served, April 1 onwards. Sweets and dry fruits that are presented with invitations card will be in violation of the order. DJS, amplifiers and speakers will not be permitted, as they cause noise pollution. (The Indian Express, February 22, 2017.)
This diktat towards social responsibility is probably a good one, providing a tremendous amount of relief to people who spend sleepless nights wondering how they’re ever going to get their daughters married. A damp squib of an event is infinitely preferable to debt.
While it may seem outrageous that in a democracy the state should interfere in what should be a personal decision, there are some very convincing reasons for the J & K government to implement austerity measures for marriages. For too long, spectacular weddings have been a measure of status.
The bride’s family is unnecessarily burdened with the bill, often dipping into life savings for staging the perfect show. There’s another perfectly rational question the government is raising — does anybody really need to eat 21 different dishes, the minimum number served in a traditional Kashmiri wazwan? Instead of such an elaborate buffet, the money could be put to much better use by giving the newly-weds a head start in life. But in one of the most majestic settings on earth where the gods randomly decided that saffron, the world’s most expensive spice should flourish, prudence in place of extravagance seems sadly anticlimactic.
There’s no question that Indians overcelebrate life events. For the rich, landmark birthdays too now are a three-day affair. Weddings, however, are a grand tradition across the length and breadth of this country and there is no single theme that can fully explain the essence of this fantastic celebration. After demonetisation, there has been a serious dip in spending, but people in the business are convinced it’ll bounce back because for every family at every level, a well-done wedding is absolutely essential. It can be argued it’s good for the economy — the phoolwala, the caterer, the hotelier, the jeweller, the sari seller and the travel agent.
When the government dictates how peopleshouldcelebrate,theydon’ttakeinto account the emotions involved, or the fact that people have too little joy in their lives. If, for those few precious days, they want to give themselves up entirely to profligate revelry (preferably without loans) they should, guilt-free. In a state rocked by conflict, hanging on to old rituals becomes even more important. It’s worth noting that in thekashmiricontext,thewazwanisnotjust a meal, it’s a ceremony. Its preparation is considered an art and it’s regarded as the pride of Kashmiri culture and identity.
If we have dull and circumspect celebrations, the distinctions that grow and steady us through life — between a festival and an ordinary day, or a life event going by without any special acknowledgement — are gone. The music at weddings may be over, for now. The lights will never dim.
In a state rocked by conflict, hanging on to old rituals becomes even more important. It’s worth noting that in the Kashmiri context, the wazwan is not just a meal, it’s a ceremony