Red Wedding

Does it really make sense to spend so much on a wedding that you feel bankrupt the day after?

It's official. The Big Fat Indian Wedding is out of control.

I should know. Whenever the wedding season rolls around I end up getting inundated with invites to attend the nuptials of people whom I have never heard of, let alone met. And my! What invitations they are!

They come in elaborately carved wooden boxes, they feature paintings by celebrated artists, and are accompanied by such goodies as hand-made gourmet chocolates, silver mementos, or even little figurines of gods and goddesses. And the only thing I can think of (as I puzzle over who these people may be) is: if the card is so pricey, how expensive will the wedding be?

And the answer to that question is: very.

For starters, it will be held in some scenic location or the other. If the budget is tight (I speak relatively, of course) then it will an exclusive beach resort in Thailand or an opulent palace in India. If money is no object then the map will expand to include Florence, Venice, Vienna, or any other historic European city. Each event will be held at a different venue, and the venue of each event will have a different decor.

The wedding party will be flown down in chartered planes, the most expensive suites in the best hotels will be booked, chefs will be hired from all over the world to cater to the myriad tastes of the guests, champagne and first-growth wines will be on tap, and there will be hairdressers, make-up artists and manicurists galore so that everyone can look their absolute best.

And that's before we even start on the expense of outfitting the bride and groom for the many, many functions they will attend before and after they get hitched. There will be couture lenghas for the bride with matching jewelry and accessories for each outfit. There will be made-to-measure suits and custom-made shoes for the groom. And there will be designer watches for both.

Then, there's the small matter of the trousseau -- or dowry, or whatever you want to call it -- which the bride will be expected to bring with her. Furniture for the house, diamonds for the mother-in-law, designer bags for the sisters-in-law, a luxury car for the husband. And so on, and so extravagant.

And if the wedding is so over-the-top, then the honeymoon must also be suitably stratospheric. A week's skiing in Switzerland or a road trip through French wine country will simply not do. No, this has to be the break of a lifetime, involving private planes, Michelin-star meals, and something truly spectacular, like being given a tour of the Louvre after hours.

As I declined an invitation to one such affair last week, I started to wonder how much this Big Fat Indian Wedding would actually cost. I must confess that I began to feel a bit faint when I totted up the sums, and had to go for a little lie-down. This much money on a wedding? Am sure the Instagram posts and Facebook videos will be awesome. And the neighbors will be totally jealous. But really! Is all that expense really worth it?

Well, I guess it all depends on much spare cash you -- or more accurately, your parents -- have lying around underneath those cushions. But just to put things in perspective, here's a small sample of what you could do with the money instead of spending it on a week-long jamboree.

* Buy a nice apartment so that you can start married life in a home of your own. There will be no interfering in-laws, no pesky house rules to follow, and no mortgage to pay off. And you know what they say about real estate; it always appreciates.

* Already have a lovely home in the best part of Delhi or Mumbai, thanks to Daddy and Mummy? Well then, splash out on buying a holiday home by the sea or in the mountains. How does a chalet in Verbier or a villa in Tuscany sound? Not only could you vacation there for the rest of your life, it could even double up as a venue for the party you throw for your first anniversary.

* Put the money away in a safe investment and use the annual interest to fund a luxury holiday (or three) every year. It should be enough to pay for a cruise around the Mediterranean in a private yacht. Or hiring your own private island in the Caribbean during the winter. Or both.

Just one more thing: Don't touch the principal. That's your nest egg just in case your kids are foolish enough to want a Big Fat Indian Wedding of their own. You don't want to be caught short when -- and if -- that happens.

Wedded bliss

How to celebrate through the wedding season and live to tell the tale

If you have a large extended family, the chances are that you are currently neck-deep into the excesses of the Big Fat Indian wedding. And even if you don't, you have probably been inveigled into attending the nuptials of your office colleagues, neighbours, business associates, old college friends and the like.

We all know what that involves, right? Yes, an endless round of parties, much drinking and dancing, and a succession of outfits, each blingier than the next.

And then, there's the food. The buffet spreads take in everything from Thai to Chinese to Indian food, the canapés are an endless stream of deep-fried delights, and the desserts are best described as a heart attack on a plate.

So no, it is not easy surviving the Indian wedding season, with either your bank account or your digestive system intact. But I am here to tell you that it can be done, with some handy tips dredged from my own experiences in the trenches.

* Pick and choose your outings with care. Just because someone is celebrating their wedding with a dozen parties doesn't mean you have to attend each one of them (unless it's your best friend or immediate family, in which case, of course you do). Choose a couple of events to mark your presence, preferably those with a smaller guest list so that you can be noticed among the crowd. So, choose a mehendi, which is a more intimate gathering over a reception in which the guest list could run into thousands.

* If you do choose the reception, negotiate it on  the revolving-door principle. Enter the party, head straight for the queue leading up to the stage where the newly-weds are ensconced, get your picture taken with them to mark your presence, climb down from the stage and head for the exit. Nobody will be any the wiser that you were there for a grand total of 15 minutes. No, not even your gentle hosts.

* Don't bankrupt yourself in the process of finding the perfect new outfit for each occasion. Instead, try recycling some of last season's wedding wardrobe by adding a new dupatta or a different kurta. Though frankly, you can also get away with recycling the old outfits. Trust me, no one else remembers what you wore to Pappu's sangeet or Sweety's mehendi. No, seriously, they don't. Consider this. Do you remember what your cousin wore for your neice's wedding? No, I didn't think so.

* In case you are loath to do that because your friends and family are insanely vigilant, you could try the outfit swap. You will need a close friend, a cousin or a neighbour of a similar size. If you have one, you can exchange outfits for the wedding season, effectively getting four for the price of two. My cousin and her sister in law once managed to go through an entire wedding season with four outfits apiece which they swapped -- along with matching jewellery -- for functions hosted by their respective families.

* Get a workout in during the course of the day. It doesn't have to be an intensive session in the gym. It could even be a short run on the treadmill or a brisk walk in the park. But do get at least half an hour of aerobic exercise in. It will compensate for your dietary excesses later in the day.

* One good thing about Indian weddings is that they provide enough opportunities for a workout in the course of the festivities. You can dance off those glasses of champagne at the sangeet by boogying late into the night on the dance floor. You can burn off a few hundred calories by dancing in the baarat procession. Seize these opportunities when they present themselves. Your waist line will thank you for it.

* Stop stuffing your face compulsively. Just because the tray of mutton kebabs passes by you every five minutes doesn't mean you have to help yourself every time. Turn down the canapés and save room for dinner instead. Alternate every alcoholic drink with a Diet Coke or a glass of water. Your liver will thank you for it, as will your head the morning after.

* You can go completely over the top where your outfits are concerned. But remember to wear comfortable shoes. Flats are ideal. But if you feel you need a boost of a few inches, opt for wedges or platform heels rather than stilettos. Even kitten heels will do at a stretch, so long as they allow you to stand comfortably for long periods of time. Of course, once the music kicks in, you can always kick off the shoes, and burn up the dance floor. You do have that dal makhani to work off, after all. And that chocolate cake is not going to eat itself.

So, as the saying definitely does not go: eat, drink and make marry. You can always diet another day!

Small is beautiful

It’s about time we phased out the Big Fat Indian wedding

There were many things that were heart-warming about the Mahendra Singh Dhoni-Sakshi Rawat love story. The fact that India’s cricket captain didn’t succumb to the blowsy charms of some six-feet-tall supermodel but fell for the cute girl next door. That both Mahi and Sakshi chose to conduct their relationship well below the radar, choosing privacy over publicity (so much so that few were even aware of Sakshi’s existence before the engagement announcement). But most heart-warming of all was the way in which they wed.

Not for them, the Big Fat Indian wedding of legend – though God knows Dhoni can afford it. Not for them, a lavish five-star, celebrity-studded affair in one of Bombay or Delhi’s swish hotels. Not for them, a celebration that lasts several weeks and takes in every scenic location in India that you can think of. Not for them, a lavishly-mounted theme wedding in a chateau in France, a villa in Italy, a chalet in Switzerland, or even a beach in the Caribbean.

No, when Dhoni decided to marry his long-term girlfriend, it was in the small town of Dehradun, where her folks stay and the ceremony itself was held in a modest little resort. The large police presence meant that the media was kept at a respectable distance. So, the only people privy to the proceedings were Mahi, Sakshi, their families and close friends who had flown down for the wedding. Which is exactly how it should be.

Of course, there were famous faces around. And how could it be otherwise, given Dhoni’s supersonic fame? But even here, due discretion was exercised on the guest list. R.P. Singh was in attendance; Yuvraj Singh was not (he tweeted rather lamely: “Got to know Mahi is getting married. Congratulations...”). Among the film crowd, only John Abraham – who has been close to Dhoni, advising him on his fitness and his hair-styles – was in attendance. There were none of the usual suspects – Shah Rukh Khan, Shilpa Shetty, Preity Zinta, et al – who generally litter such events.

And if you ask me, the wedding was much better for it. There were just 60 people in attendance from both sides of the family. There was no fancy DJ flown in from Morocco to regale the guests with Bhangra Rap. There were no rare vintages of French wines or cases of Dom Perignon waiting to be quaffed or even any Grey Goose or Belvedere. Instead, Dhoni kept his wedding an alcohol-free zone. And there were no camera crews in attendance recording every moment for the prime-time TV audience.

In other words, it was a dream wedding – the kind that revolves around the bride and groom and not around the thousands of celebrity attendees and what they are wearing.

I don’t know about you, but I am getting a bit tired of the overblown extravaganzas of excess that pass off as Indian weddings these days. Everyone is competing with the other to choose the most exotic locale, serve the most esoteric food, put on the most lavish entertainment, invite the maximum number of people. Everything must be on a grand scale: the flowers, the decor, the bride and bridegroom’s outfits. And with each one vying to out-do the other, the bar is raised so high that you can’t help but look ridiculous as you attempt to clear it.

NRI businessmen fly into India to take over entire resort properties to host over-the-top weddings for their sons. Only to be topped by industrialists who can afford to take over historical palaces in France to give their daughters a befitting send-off. Young couples whizz off to Florence and Barcelona – along with several thousand guests – just so they can marry in the city of their dreams. Honestly, it’s gotten so bad that if you host a wedding in near-by Thailand you are seen as letting the side down.

It all makes me long for the weddings of my childhood, which were simple, no-nonsense three-day affairs hosted by families in their homes, be they ever so humble. Everyone pitched in to help out with the organisation – relatives, friends, neighbours. And they all did it for love rather than a large pay cheque. Nobody worried too much about colour co-ordination, so long as the bride wore red. The food was plentiful rather than fancy. And the only exotic locales involved were those the happy couple chose for their honeymoon.

Not only were they cheaper to host but they were also more fun to attend. There was none of the anodyne decor so favoured by wedding planners, no designer outfits on display to put your own trusty Kanjeevaram to shame, and no surfeit of choice with endless buffet tables groaning with every cuisine known to man. You did a bit of lusty Punjabi-style dancing with the band, handed over your envelope to the happy couple, posed for a picture, tucked into your kebab (and sometimes sharab) and then departed before the interminable pheras got underway.

The feel was intimate; the mood was buoyant; the scale was perfect.

Which is why I think it is time we retired the Big Fat Indian Wedding, or better still gave it a decent burial so that it can’t come back and bite us in the bottom. Bring on the Small Thin Indian Wedding instead. Trust me, you will love it.