Day 1: groom’s mum and aunt meet with bride’s mum and bride-to-be.
Day 2: groom goes with posse to meet bride + posse. Groom’s posse includes his parents, his aunt and uncle (who is the only one who can drive and is hence dragged along to most things) and cousin. Bride’s posse includes three aunts and her mum. Bride and Groom go off to have a meal and a chat. The rest of the folks stare at each other in true old West gunslinger style before half of the group cracks and wanders off to shop. After about an hour, speculation of whether the long disappearance of bride and groom is a good thing or a bad thing is rife. After realizing there is only so much shopping one can do, especially as the lights have gone off since it’s “loadshedding” time, both posses leave.
Groom comes home and says he approves of bride. Likes her a lot, in fact. But there is worry whether the bride reciprocates. After a period of “telephone” (since it’s considered rude to actually call the bride and her family but it is apparently okay to call various persons-in-between), it is rumoured that the bride, too, is keen on groom. The wedding is on.
Day 3: Groom’s mum and dad and aunt go shopping. There are many and varied rituals to be followed—the wedding potay (or beaded necklace), the jewellery, the saris and the entire gear the bride has to change to, mid-wedding, to symbolize her move away from her own house to the groom’s.
Day 4: confirmation that the wedding will happen at a temple on the top of a mountain, surrounding Kathmandu valley. More shopping. Loads of foodstuff necessary for a wedding. Foodstuff includes mostly dried fruit and regular fruit, including yellow—not green—bananas.
Day 5: bride’s family sends over an “invite” to the groom’s house.
Day 6: the wedding. Once at the temple, various parties are confused as to which wedding to go to, especially as only the groom, groom’s mum and aunt have actually seen and talked to the bride. There are four weddings going on at the same time at the temple and it turns out our wedding is the one with the best view (facing the valley. This means a large part of the wedding party ends up debating whether they can see their respective houses and/or various other buildings they remember).
The wedding starts with the swayambher—the engagement—and then the symbolic giving away of the bride in the actual wedding. Feet are washed, many perambulations around the jagya are undertaken and tika is applied at regular intervals. There is the bestowal of a huge potay by the bride on the groom and sindoor (a specific type, weight and colour of the sindoor was needed as I can attest from having been the one to procure it) is applied, signifying the woman is now a bride (single women don’t get to wear potays or sindoor). By this time, it’s evening and time to go back to the groom’s house.
Of course, with there being no light, it’s dark by the time the party arrives at the groom’s house. Bride and groom walk in, bride in front and groom following behind. They get a ritual tika (again), the groom’s cousin (or, sister) welcomes them in and there is more pooja. The bride walks in first, stepping on lighted oil lamps, signifying something or the other. No one really knows what but the usual explanation of “it is the custom” is given when asked. Finally, it’s all over. The few people there (bride’s aunt and cousins, groom’s aunt and uncle and cousin) all leave and the bride and groom are officially bride and groom.
And so it was.
