After Chachoo's big day - the day he got married - came The Big Night. The evening of the shaadi function - basically the celebration part of the wedding day. For about an hour after all the guys came back from the mosque, everyone just sat around the house drinking tea and chatting. Then everyone slowly drifted to take their place in line for the shower or clothes iron and began preparing for the evening. Uncles and Aunts and cousins began arriving at the house as well since most of the close family members would congregate at our house and all go to the party venue together in one big group called the baraat. As more people came, the house got louder and more raucous, especially after the drummers arrived.
Ammi helps Chachoo put a waistband into his shalwar.
Chachoo also began preparing by putting on his shalwar (a pair of big baggy pants) and a plain white kurta (a long shirt.) The Sherwani he would be wearing - the equivalent of a tuxedo jacket in Pakistan - would wait for later. There was some discussion as to whether he should wear socks with his pants and khussa (simple leather shoes, often with points on the ends.) I was firmly anti-sock!
The reason that Chachoo only dressed up halfway is because there was still a lot of rasm to perform. Rasm, I think, means traditions? It's all the little culturally-specific things done throughout these kinds of functions and they vary GREATLY between families.
When everyone else was ready and it was time for all the rasm to go down, Chachoo was put in the center of the main room of the house with everyone else - perhaps around 75 people by that point - looking on, crowding into the room in a circle around him or peering through one of the many doorways. First, Chachoo's "sisters" each had a cloth pocket with a small amount of money sewn inside that we were to tie to his arms. This money - I can't remember what it's called - is to ward off "The Evil Eye" and it's donated to some charitable cause later on. I say "sisters" because we sisters-in-law also count and I was supposed to go first as the eldest of the group, but I insisted that Chachoo's ACTUAL sister go first. Then me before anyone else ;)
Chachoo & M's sister, tying one on. Mine was the red one on the right. His sister is tying on the 3rd one in place of her daughter, who was too sick to be there.
The next tradition was that all us "sisters" would take turns feeding Chachoo a sip of some milk sweetened with rose water & sugar (Rooh Afza, to be exact.) I tried to let his sister go first, but they wouldn't let me do that anymore and my mother-in-law insisted I should start. Since part of my job as eldest sister-in-law is to joke & make fun of my younger brothers-in-law a lot, I decided I was going to give him a sip of milk - and then keep the glass up to his mouth for as long as I could. Kind of a joke, y'know? But then all the Aunties in the room started yelling at me "No no no! Save some for the others! Everyone is supposed to do just a little bit!" (But I KNEW that, and I was saving plenty! Sheesh.) Anyway, then all the other sisters took their turn.
Then it was time to dress him up the rest of the way. This is the reason he hadn't put the Shervani on, because dressing up the groom is something that his father, brothers, or other respected elder, male members of the family do for him. Like a grandfather maybe, or the eldest Uncle. At the wedding we went to two years prior, the eldest uncle had been in charge and had kind of botched the job, so M had been closely guarding the coveted role of little-brother-dresser-upper for himself (and his father & brother, too.)
The buttons are a pain and so difficult! This shervani also had some string inside that had to be fastened first, and then the very last neck button took, like, fifteen minutes. Then it was time for the hat. A turban-looking thing with a tail that's draped around his back and over his arm called a Pagri. (<-- That's how wikipedia says it's spelled, but I've always heard it pronounced something like "puck-Rdee") Sometimes the cloth tail of fabric is fanned out and stands tall above the guy's head instead of draped down the back/arm. It looks kind of like a rooster or something, and I prefer that look!
After the groom was all dressed and ready, the whole crowd shuffled out of the house and into various forms of transportation. The shaadi is usually the bride's event (the groom's event is the next day and is called the Valima) so the shaadi hall was a place of the bride's family's choosing. Luckily it wasn't too far away - because OF COURSE we were running late.
When we got to the wedding hall, we had to wait outside a bit for them to get their receiving line in place - all the younger girls of their family were arranged in two flanking lines with trays full of flower bracelets and flower petals to toss in the air as we walked into the hall and up to the stage. We all arranged ourselves for pictures on the stage, in various combinations and groups.
The baby is sitting up front with his Aunt - you can see the flower necklace I'd requested for him in a smaller length so that it would look right. He was supposed to be dressed as a replica of the groom - a shahballa. I had actually requested that he be dressed identically to Chachoo. After all this was the last wedding for M's family, so it was now or never to make him an actual shabala. But everyone balked at the idea of paying so much money to have the same sherwani made for such a young boy and in the end they just bought something ready made that was similar. I might still be a little bitter about this.
The bride, flanked by her sisters & cousins, makes her entrance.
We took pictures for a long time. Eventually Chachoo asked me if I had any Tylenol or something in my bag because he said he had a headache. I didn't but I told him I would ask others and went around asking all the Aunties if they had something. Then, when I was close to the entrance of the hall, I heard some commotion and realized that the bride was about to make her entrance. I snapped this picture quickly and then booked it to the stage to let Chachoo and the family know that things were about to get serious!
When I got to the stage, I told everyone that Chachoo's new wife was mere seconds away from joining him on stage and then I took this picture. You guys don't know Chachoo, so let me tell you what to look for in this picture. His jaw is tight and his smile is forced. There's some perspiration on his forehead and though you can't see his eyes, trust me that there's something wrong there. He asked if I'd found any medicine and when I said no, he said....
"I'm going to be sick!"
And then he ran behind the stage and THREW UP!
Oh my god it was hilarious. Well, not then, of course. Everyone was worried for him and within seconds he was literally surrounded by all of his family members. There were maybe 8 hands rubbing his back. It must have been very suffocating. I took charge. I do that sometimes. I made people give him some space, I barked at a nearby waiter in semi-understandable Urdu to bring me a glass of water. I made M go talk to the bride's family. (She was literally seconds from the stage and then her groom disappears!?) I even got someone to track down a mint for Chachoo so that when he went back to the stage he didn't offend his new wife with his barf-breath.
(I so badly wanted to take a picture! M said I couldn't - it would really offend his family if I took a picture of a time when everyone was so worried and Chachoo was sick. But NOW, on the other side, I bet everyone would LOVE to see that picture! It's all about capturing the moment, people!)
It probably wasn't more than five minutes. Chachoo said it was because his turban had been too tight and took it off, then returned to the stage - where his wife was already waiting for him. I used that to make a LOT of fun of him over the course of our trip, too. In fact, I still sometimes make fun of him. Suuuurrrreee, it was the turban that was too tight. Not that you were nervous about seeing your new wife for the first time!
When the groom finally came back, they sat for a bit, took lots and lot and lots and LOTS of pictures with every guest in attendance, and eventually even got to eat a few bites. Everything was very rushed because the wedding was going to end precisely at midnight no matter what. There had been some regulation passed that dictated that weddings were to end by midnight or there would be fines and police crackdown. These weird regulations are sometimes passed because some people in Pakistan think people go way too far in putting on an opulent wedding reception that is somehow harmful. Perhaps because of the debt incurred? I'm not sure on the specifics, all I know is that there is some trend about trying to crack down on too-lavish weddings. But of course those who can afford REALLY lavish weddings can just bribe someone, or hold their wedding on their own private property. When M's other brother was getting married in 2007, there was a similarly-intended regulation that there could only be one entree served during a wedding reception. Apparently the food is one of the ways people go overboard in weddings? I don't know, it all sounds so stupid to me, and usually people just bribe whoever comes by instead. This particular wedding venue, though, actually played by the rules and threatened to shut off the lights at midnight. (They only dimmed them, though, since we were still a bit late.)
When all the pictures and the meal were finished, it was time for the party to end and for us to take the bride back home with us. Her brother held a copy of the Qu'ran over her head as she walked out and into a waiting car. We all drove back to our house - the baraat included - for some more traditions to be carried out. When we got there all the "sisters" helped escort her (those dresses are not easy to move in) into the main living room and arranged her all prettily on the couch for everyone to stare at her. Ammi brought some rice pudding called kheer and we all took turns feeding the newly married couple bites of kheer and giving them moo dekhai presents.
I had agonized about what to get the new bride for her moo dekhai present. It would have been customary - or maybe even expected - for us to give her some gold jewelry. But gold is INSANELY expensive right now, and many of M's cousins that age have told me they don't like yellow, 22 caret gold jewelry. Plus, I knew she was coming to America in a few months and there's just not as much opportunity to wear very much of that kind of heavy gold jewelry and I knew she would already receive a lot of that from her own family. I asked around if I could go with some other options and most people told me no - gold was expected, especially from a brother's family. But we still decided to buck tradition and went with a crystal jewelry set from Swarovski. We got a Flip Cam for Chachoo. They seemed to go over well.
Feeding Chachoo some rice pudding.
There was a nose ring mishap that required assistance. First she asked me and I was like "I have absolutely zero experience with nose rings, perhaps you would prefer someone else?"
After all the various extended family members had fed the happy couple something and given them gifts and/or money, it was time to put an end to the evening. All the young girl cousins and we "sisters" helped escort the bride into her new room. We actually had to sit her on the bed and primp her and make sure her dress was artfully arranged and whatnot. That was a bit strange for me, sitting the girl down on what would soon be her marital bed, but I tried to fulfill my sister-in-law duties.
Then it was time for gate chupai - blocking the door of the room so that the groom can't come in to be with his new wife and then EXTORTING MONEY from him to let him pass. I had been warning Chachoo for quite some time that I planned to squeeze every penny I could out of him because I had spent many days prior to that running around our town to finalize his school applications and paperwork. I was out for revenge. I kept haggling long after everyone else was done and eventually M jumped in to help his brother out. I think in the end I got away with 6000 rupees, which is about $75. That's probably nothing for weddings in wealthy Pakistani families, but in M's family it was the biggest gate chupai amount ever. Unfortunately, it gets shared by all the cousins. (I'll write later about what we did with the money.)
After extorting the groom, we let him into his room and closed the door. Back in 2007, after all that went down the poor groom had to come back OUT of his room and ask for tylenol because his wife had a headache. We all had a laugh about that one! But this time I made sure they had everything they could possibly need in their room, so there would be no need for them to come back out until the next morning. :::wink, wink:::
Minutes later, I would catch the baby peering under the door. "What's Chachoo doing in there, Mommy?" he asked. I still haven't answered that question.
