A Wedding in Allahabad

Hello all, long time no blog. So much to tell you all.
The weekend after last was when I went to Allahabad to go to the wedding of two friends Rajat & Odisha. Took the train up north (will post a pic of how far away it is later), a 12 hour ride in a cramped 3 tier construction. Not for the faint hearted, or the weak stomached. The toilets were so dirty it defies belief, yet I still went in them. It was that or face another 6 hours of pain and cramps! But it was good fun and the time flew as there were 12 of use in one compartment so we all played cards, chatted and read together. The scenery was quite lovely, but you would never guess India is so bloody flat. You know the pictures you get of India, Himalaya-style Mountains or beautiful coasts. But inland, on the Deccan Plateau to be exact, it really is flat, and big (Meath eat your heart out). Man it’s big. For maybe 9 hours of the 12 we were on the train it was completely flat as far as I could tell. And the stations we stopped at, you really got the feeling that if you got off at one of them you really would be in the middle of nowhere, possibly in the most central part of that middle of nowhere (where the train stops), but still possibly further from any big town that I’ve been in my life!


When we arrived in Allahabad, crossing over the Ganges as we did [trust me, it’s huge. Bigger than the Shannon!!! ], we arrived to a big reception from Odisha’s mothers side. Now Odisha’s mum is a High Court judge in Allahabad, the second largest city in Uttar Pradesh, a state in India, and in India this means you’re the big boss. We had armed protection on the train (due to the attacks also) and at every function there was armed guards all over the place. And when I say armed I mean submachine guns and rifles. Funnily enough as we were getting into the rental cars for the drive to the hotel (which Odisha’s mum was putting us up in at her own cost, will explain later) I happened to be the odd one out so I got a car to myself. So imagine, there’s me, obviously a foreigner, in my own car being driven to the hotel! People thought I was some big shot come with everyone! Ha ha ha!

Anyway, so we arrived at the hotel and it was certainly the best in Allahabad (***star). It was on the main street which although it had a Levi jeans store and a dominos pizza takeway didn’t excite me too much, I was truly surprised when I was told that it was the main street. The funniest thing was when we were told later on that day that there was an escalator installed in some mall here, everyone visited the place to try it out!

After we had all settled in, lunch was served and wow what a feast. Now I mentioned before that Odisha’s mum had put us up in the hotel for the wedding, but that isn’t all. She paid for nearly everything! The train, the guards, the food, the hotel, the transport, the ceremonies, the parties, everything! She even bought us each a gift of a silver candle stand, I have it in my house now! I roughly calculate that she must have spent more than 1 crore here. A crore (10,000,000) is around 160,000 euros, though in Irish terms it would be like spending half a million euros. And Rajat’s side spent at least 45 lakh (a lakh is 100,000 rupees) on jewelry etc. as gifts for the bride. Can you imagine! But I think that this was not so different to Ireland past, the girl’s side pays for the wedding and the boy’s side pays for gifts etc. for the bride and her family, to show how prosperous they are. That’s putting it a little blunt but that’s how it was explained to me.

In the evening there was the informal reception and the exchanging of the gifts. This was the party time and man I have never seen such a party, I would even go so far as to say that they partied harder than any Irish wedding I’d ever seen. Certainly the music was a little more livelier than Ireland. We started with traditional Indian music and singing with madly dressed women dancing on the stage. Next came the dj, and to be honest he had a pretty decent set up, pioneers etc! Now it must be mentioned that India has it’s own modern music, even the states have their own music. You won’t find Abba or Queen on this playlist, but songs like Singh Is King, Jaane Kyun, Tu Muskura, all which are quite loud and fast, in true Indian style. I swear I heard a bit of breaks and everything in their! And you won’t find all the kids dancing either. All the old ones will be on the dancefloor too, doing all the moves (every song in India has moves, especially ones from films, which the mainly are) and singing all the words. Great Craic (keep saying that and nobody understands me here!)


But here’s the strangest thing about that night. Walked past this white couple and just happened to catch their eye, so we struck up a conversation, now the music was very loud and I couldn’t quite hear them, but I was saying to myself as I was talking to them “there’s something familiar about their accent” Turns out they’re from Belfast and are living in Allahabad (of all places) for the next few years to learn Hindi! At last I can say, but it is a small world after all! They were very nice and we had a good chat, comparing and contrasting India to Ireland.

The next day, a little drained and hungover from the night before, we had a very chilled morning and lunch, with only a small preparatory ceremony for the groom by his family, blessing him on his wedding day. In the evening, we all assembled and met with Rajat and his family. And wow, he was decked out in the maddest clothes I’d ever seen, only outshone by Odisha (wearing more than 25kgs on her person!) who we didn’t see till later on at the reception before the wedding. All the uncles wore a turban though all the young ones (Rajat’s entourage) didn’t get to wear one, however everyone was so keen to have one on me that I was given the chance to put one on (they didn’t have enough fabric for everone). They are a small bit uncomfortable I have to say, as they pull your hair and are quite sweaty. I can’t imagine what Shikhs go through, as they can’t cut their hair (My friend Suppi’s hair goes down past his knees, though I’ve never seen it down.) and tie it up in knots before tying on a turban. Ouch.


So off we went to the reception, and when I mean off I mean Rajat got on a horse (he had never ridden before and he was wrecked after it) and we all went in a procession before him with a few guys playing mad drums. They wouldn’t have been out of place at some mad rave! And my god did everyone get into it. I will post a video of it later. Even I got infected by the beats and was dancing with everyone on the road, making our way to the reception. Even though we skipped a huge section of and started again closer to the reception, it still took over and hour and a half to make it 1km! And all the way down we had fireworks going off in front of us! Also Odisha’s side had paid for a brass band also so there literally a battle of the bands as each sought to beat the other.




When we arrived at the reception it turned out to be a very formal affair, with lots of food, but no lively music and no alcohol (not supposed to drink on the wedding day as it’s unlucky to do so). This all started at 8 in the evening, and by the time the reception was over it was nearly 12 at night.


Then on to the next place for the wedding, which was only family and close friends. Everyone was wrecked, Rajat’s back was so still he was in terrible pain, not to mention what Odisha was feeling, who changed into another amazing dress for the wedding, being outside her family home). By the time we got back everyone was ready to pass out and any thoughts about continuing the party at the hotel were dismissed.
Next morning we were to leave and so, tired from non-stop events, we took the 10.30am train back to Bombay. It was certainly one of the most fun times I’ve had in India, though it was a shame I didn’t get to go sightseeing in the little time we were there. Unfortunately, the train back certainly dampened our moods, as it was certainly not as nice as the one going to Allahabad. There were cockroaches all over the place (one of the lads woke up with one on his face!) and there were kids screaming and crying all through the journey. That is one huge gripe I have with Indian, some of them have no sense of Hygiene; a kid was pissing in the train and their parents didn’t say anything, in Bombay you’ll see guys pick their noses and eat a roll without cleaning their hand, or shit in a not so hidden corner of a building. Not saying everyone is like that but it’s just not nice, and those that know me know I’m not exactly Mr. Cleanliness.


We arrived eventually in Bombay the next morning, wrecked and ready for a nice relaxing day at home with no work. Gayle and I chilled at the house and watched some movies and read our books all day. Very nice. Next day it was back to work, though I was still quite tired.
Well, that’s all there is to the trip. I hope you all enjoyed my little story.
Will blog again soon,
Paul

p.s. as you can see above we could open the doors and stand there as the contryside flew past. Bit dangerous but very cool. The city trains are the same with no sliding doors so as to allow quick on-off movement.