Raveena Tandon got her daughter Chaya married in a beautiful ceremony in Goa. Recently she wrote an article on DNA about the things that happened at the wedding from planning to execution. Here we bring to you some excerpts from her column.
We’ve all been exposed to big, fat Punjabi weddings (thank you, Yash Chopra!) and Gujju ones (courtesy Sanjay Leela Bhansali) and Marwari ones (via the Barjatyas). Hell, a week earlier, I even made the nightmarish mistake of watching a ‘modern wedding’ in Shaandaar. It scared the living daylights out of me and I thought I’d be scarred for life.But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to Goa — beautiful, serene laid-back, fun-tastic Goa for the “Papaji “of all weddings — half-Punjabi/Sindhi and half Goan Catholic. So, here is the lowdown on a big fat Goan Catholic Punjabi wedding !
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The beautiful ceremony was held at one of the oldest churches there. That morning must’ve seen the strangest crowd ever assembled in its history — a fusion of customs and costumes. After all the hugging-shugging and an impromptu “milni” outside the church between the two families, the ceremony began in full attendance and no delays (shocking that Padu and Dhru Maasi and Dolly Aunty finished their make-up on time and that Uncle Albert and Rodrick weren’t keeling over the pews hungover from last night!). At the chapel, during the ceremony, my niece gave me her bouquet to hold and I mock-threatened all my other unmarried nieces that I’d throw it in their direction. They went along with it, ducking and hiding, not one of them willing to be the next to tie the knot.And And OMG! I said the exact Auntyji words to them I once cringed at: ‘Who’s next at the altar, girls?’ Flashback: It’s one of the most annoying things I have had to endure. Single me thronged by aunts who’d gang up to ask the question and taunt, ‘Ab beta, next teri baari hai?’. At the time, in my heart, I knew it was far from the truth. I was in a traumatic relationship with a non-committing friend. In my defense, I’d crack a joke and say that I was still looking for Mr Right while partying with all the Mr Wrongs.
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I told the girls to chill. “Whenever you’re ready,” I reassured them. I had almost become the Auntyjis I’d disliked. After the I Do’s were done, everyone proceeded to more drinking and dancing and dancing and drinking. The dancing reached insane proportions with people dancing on walls and tables (no, really!).The Bride rocked it in a white bridal gown — the only white wedding where the bride wore choodas and kaleeris (ceremonial bangles and danglers that are the norm at Punjabi weddings) and mangalsutra and sindoor… phew!
Completely shaadi’d out, I returned to Mumbai with the conclusion that no wedding in the world could outdo a big fat Indian wedding. The decadent fun, the drama, the madness and the glory, all makes us what we are. And let’s not forget, this particular one was a double dose of madness, the Goans and the Punju/Sindhis! A beautiful culmination fusion of traditions and customs — this is what my glorious country is about
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