An Indian Wedding: Part I The Baraat

The Wedding CarMy brother had the privilege of traveling to India to see his boss and friend get married and wrote a story about his amazing adventures while there. Here’s Part I:

The traditional Indian wedding is a showcase event involving both extended families, a large network of friends, and the entire community from both villages.  Although the bride and groom are integral parts, both families take center stage and are equally involved in the ceremonies that spread over several days.

The morning of the wedding we all got together for a four hour drive.  When I mean “we all”, I mean “we all”.  I am not sure how many people were gathered at the house but it had to easily be over 100 people.  Satya (the groom) was already waiting in the car as everyone gathered and was dressed in a traditional outfit including turban for the ride.  His car was decorated with strands of flowers to show everyone that he was about to get married. 

The ride itself was the most brutal 4 hours I have ever spent in a car.  Driving through the villages is always very chaotic due to dodging kids, bikes, goats, cows, elephants, or whatever may pop out in front of you, but this road was extremely potholed for about 30-40 miles and was as jarring as can be.  By the time we got out of the car I felt like my back had aged 20 years in a matter of hours, but no one else seemed to complain so I figured I better not either.

We went to a hotel for a couple hours so everyone could get ready.  Except for one guy who wore a fetching teal blue suit, everyone was extremely well dressed and in style with what you would see in the US.  Satya’s was wearing a traditional Indian wedding outfit in beige with a burgundy turban and several other colors commonly seen in India.  At about 8 pm we were ready to go and all the men gathered outside the hotel.  Up to this point, nothing had really surprised me but for the next 12 hours I was constantly in awe, confused and really amazed at the grandeur of the event I was able to be a part of and a witness to.

A groom in India makes a unique entrance.  All of the males on the groom’s side gather about 1 km away from the wedding and walk to the wedding.  It should be noted that the walk is not casual; it’s the biggest, loudest, brightest entrance to any event I have ever seen.  Everyone gathers behind a truck decked out with ornaments that would normally be found on a merry-go-round carousel.  The back of the truck has very large speakers and a DJ.  Behind the truck is a small marching band complete with marching band attire.

On either side trailing behind the truck is a long line of girls who form the outer barrier that goes back about 50 feet. The girls are all connected by a wire that comes from the truck and provides the power.  The power to what?.  On the girls’ heads is a large lamp-like thing that has enough voltage to light up a football field.  To review, the procession looks like a large floral decorated chariot with two 6’ tall speakers in the back, one small marching band, 100-200 men walking behind the truck, flanked on either side with a fluorescent sting of girls carrying 4’ tall lamps on their heads.  Satya’s car, decorated in floral regalia trails the full parade.  And yes, it does get even crazier.

This procession is called the Baraat, and all the participants are called the Baraati.  I think the idea is the larger the Baraat, the more impressive it is to the bride’s family.  And our Baraat was really, really large.  Pink turbans were passed out to the Baraati, just in case any bystanders did not notice the significance of the event.  So we started to walk and the DJ started playing Indian hip-hop music, loud and I mean really loud.  Then to supplement the hip-hop melody, the marching band started to play, cymbals, drums, trombones, the full nine yards.  

The music is not solely for everyone’s enjoyment but because the Baraati are supposed to dance between the chariot DJ truck and the marching band.  These guys were busting moves that would make Michael Jackson proud. 

As we were walking a loud bomb went off about 3 feet away from the Baraat.  I ducked and ran for cover but nobody else seemed to be alarmed so I got back in line. The local firework specialist from Satya’s village came along with home-made special fireworks for the walk.  His specialty was a loud firecracker that could literally blow up a car, but he also had some amazing colorful fireworks that would shoot up a fountain of vibrant colors.  It was all under control, except for one firework that got away and caught one of the uncles on fire for a brief bit.  Nothing major, just some char marks on his shirt and a small flesh wound.  It might have been a bigger story except the same uncle last wedding nearly lost an eye from an errant firework.  I was about to tell him “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me” but I thought something would get lost in translation.

 
All was well and we had made it to the wedding with the full procession in one hour.