Getting your second child married
Ten years after my first-born got married, it was time for
my younger one to tie the knot.
I felt like an authority on the subject, having married one
daughter before and actually penning a book about arranging weddings.
However, I had to eat a humble pie.
From the time our son-in-law put the ring on my daughter’s
third finger up till the wedding day, we had precisely two months and two days.
Once the date was fixed, we had to work backwards to ensure that the whole
shebang is accomplished in time. I was not going to panic! 62 days is 62x24
hours x 60 minutes x 60 seconds … a lot of time!
What I did not calculate was some prior commitments that we
were obligated to meet. For example, we had planned a trip to a wildlife
sanctuary during this time. This was also a present for our daughter—the
prospective bride—for her birthday in that month. The safari, the flight and
the hotels had been booked. My first impulse was to cancel this five-day trip.
But my daughter put it off by saying that this would be her last trip with us
before her marriage and we should all do it. The emotional annotation worked,
and we said, “Okay, what is five days? We will manage”.
But frankly, when we spotted the lions, we were euphoric, no
doubt, but from somewhere deep down, a nagging voice kept shaking me up,
saying, “Your daughter is getting married in a few days, shouldn’t you be doing
something better than watching lions?”
In retrospect, it was a memorable trip, and we encapsulated
some of those wonderful musings on celluloid.
To add fuel to the fire, my elder daughter who was visiting us
with her two boys, declared that she was going to take a holiday with her
husband, leaving her two boys with us. I would have been thrilled with the prospect
of having both my grandchildren with me without the unnecessary interference of
the parents in any other circumstances. In this case, my elder grandson aged
four and a half was amicable, but it was
my year and a half younger one who was a problem. He had acute separation
anxiety and during waking hours, could not bear to be away from his mother’s
sight for more than a minute. Even while sleeping he needed his mother.
This declaration squashed my enthusiasm like a soda bottle
from which the fizz has vanished. I tried my level best to dissuade my daughter
from taking this drastic step and even went to the extent of making her talk to
a psychologist friend of mine who avowed in no uncertain words that parents of
children who have acute separation and stranger anxiety have no business to
plan holidays without their kids. Yet, it was like beating drums in front of
the deaf. She was not going to give in. It was her 10th wedding
anniversary celebration and she deserved it more than anything else in the world!
The prospect of a wailing and miserable kid on hand was bad
enough, and on top of that, I was going to miss out five more days on the
wedding front. Again the emotional factor played up and I gave in.
What is five
days after all? We would make up for the loss of time.
However, minutes after my daughter left after saying goodbye
to all of us, there was pandemonium. It was like all hell broke loose and my
amicable four and half one also joined the mayhem. OMG! What were we going to
do? We were cajoling and explaining to them that mom and dad would come back in
a couple of days and so forth. Suddenly, there was tranquillity. I presumed it
to be a lull before a storm. But miraculously the lull lasted for the next five
days. They were the epitomes of perfection.
The little one adopted me as a
surrogate mother and forgo his biological one. I cherish that time with my
grandkids as the most precious. Also after this experience, a lot of theories about separation and stranger anxiety need to be looked at differently.
But to come back to my story, I lost five more precious days
for the wedding preparation.
All through this time advices, proposals, suggestions and counsels
for venues, decorators and designers kept pouring in from friends and
well-wishers. In India, we have great bonding. The minute an announcement is
made everyone pitches in to assist. The danger is when it goes over the top and
you are left more perplexed than enlightened. After surrendering a week of
running from pillar to post and exhausting ourselves to the point of collapse
(given the road/traffic conditions in the capital), we decided to look for the
paraphernalia closer to home.
But that meant we had lost another week!
February 2016 is a leap year. I was ecstatic. God had heard
my prayers and we got an extra day that we had not calculated for. I have never
felt such a deep sense gratitude to the historians and numerologists who
computed and incorporated an extra day every four years in the month of
February. And it was the February before my daughter’s marriage. Could I ask
for more? One day = 24 hours x 60 minutes x 60 seconds ... a bonanza. God, was I grateful! It was like a drowning
man clutching to a straw.
The designer ensembles that we were looking at were not only
exorbitant, but there was no guarantee that they would be delivered on time.
We had to narrow down to wearable outfits that would have
use for more than one time and most importantly, be ready on time.
During my elder daughter’s time, she was away to the United
States pursuing a master’s degree. She only came a couple of days before the
wedding. I made all the decisions without much opposition.
But in this case, my
younger one was in the same town. I wanted her to be present for all important decisions.
Since she was working full time, it meant waiting for her to get back from work
or weekends. This further became an obstacle.
My daughter and I made a day trip to Jaipur, the land of the
exotic. We were posted there for seven years and I have witnessed the most exceptional
weddings there. People have a sense of aesthetics and the work they do is
simply exquisite. We also know a lot of designers who are friends now and would
definitely deliver in time. We bought all the material for her trousseau, gave
some to be finished there, and brought the rest back with us.
I also ordered some jewellery which my friends promised to
bring along at the time of the wedding. I must say that our friends of many
years stood by us, organising pickups
and deliveries of things that we had ordered. They cleared our bills without a
qualm and we paid them back later. Such was our support. But for them, I don’t
know what we would have done.
We were extremely lucky to find a designer close to home,
who was just relocating and had enough time on hand to handle our requisitions.
The story doesn’t end here! We also employed a fitness
trainer to come over three times a week to get us all in shape to look our best
for this special occasion. The result was that we all managed to lose a couple
of inches and pounds, but the one person who was most anguished about this was
was none other than our dress designer. Every time my daughter went for a
trial, she had contracted a bit and the outfit would not fall well. The
exasperated designer announced that she was only going to do the final fitting
three days before the wedding and hand over the clothes just a day before the D-day.
That kept us on tenterhooks.
My husband, being a professional hotelier, took charge of
the venues, décor, menus, music, DJ, etc. Now this is where his long
association and the goodwill that he had gathered showed its effects. It is
like putting a drop of blue ink in a plain glass of water. Soon, the colour
spreads and colours the entire water. Similarly, even after retirement his
subordinates, colleagues and bosses made our event an unforgettable one with
their courtesy, attentiveness and concern. Organising three functions in this
short time would have been quite a colossal task.
Still there was a lot to do—the pandit (priest), mehendi
walas, printing of cards, procuring addresses for posting, emailing cards along
with wrapping gifts, and coordinating meals for people dropping by. For the
sangeet, a choreographed program was to be performed. In the madness that was
going on, this seemed like the last straw. I kept myself completely out of this
predicament. On the day of the event, I was flabbergasted to see the
performances put up by my girls. I had no clue that they could shake a leg so
gracefully.
Not to mention, the various squabbles I was having with my
daughter, the would-be bride. My concern was that she must get a little
domesticated and learn the basics of cooking and housekeeping—not realizing
that things were moving at a fast pace for her too. Overtly, she seemed very
composed but deep in her heart, there was a lot of confusion and turmoil. I
completely overlooked it as I was focused on my agenda. She was going to leave
her charmed life of a comfortable home, job, friends and activities that she
was used to and move into a new setup with transformed milieus.
Two days before the wedding, when we thought everything was
under control, and I felt like a cat that had licked a bowl of cream, my
daughter dropped a boulder. She said no one had really asked her opinion about the
forthcoming wedding. She had never really given her consent. You can imagine my
state. Now these statements were soley reserved for my ears. I don’t know whether
to agitate my already nerve-racked mind or she was comfortable airing her own
insecurity in front of me.
Was she getting cold feet? Was she testing my already ragged
nerves? Or was she playing safe, in case things don’t work out, so that she
could blame us for the debacle. Whatever her reason, I was fuming like an overheated
pressure cooker.
This also reminded me of a similar situation during the time
I was to get married. I went to deliver a card to a dear friend of mine who had
just had a baby. I met her sister-in-law who was going through a difficult time
in her marriage. Coincidently, her husband of ten years was also a hotelier.
The minute she heard that I was going to marry a hotelier, she took off like a
maniac. She demanded that I get out of the marriage ASAP. Two days before the D-day,
I told her that it was an impossibility. In no uncertain words, she told me of
all the pitfalls of getting married to a guy working in a hotel—long hours, no
time for the family, busy 24x7, etc. She gave me that “I warned you” look
before I took a hasty retreat.
Aside, now we have been married for over 35 years but there
were numerous occasions when I thought of her well-meant counsel.
Anyhow, we overcame that obstacle quickly as it was just
another ploy to annoy me. The day of the pre-wedding programs arrived. The new
diamond set ordered from Jaipur arrived, brought by one of our friends the same
day. It looked beautiful and I put it on my daughter with great pride. After
the merrymaking of the evening, my daughter tried to remove the necklace. The
clasp seemed to be stuck or else it was a new kind of setting that we were not
familiar with. We struggled for an hour or so. My teary-eyed daughter said she
was destined to wear this treasure for the rest of her life. I had no option
but to ring up this friend in Jaipur past midnight to ask her how to disengage
the necklace. She did not flinch at the unearthly hour of the call and
patiently explained how to unlock the clasp.
The next two days floated by flawlessly. All our efforts
bore fruit and we managed to keep to the cut-off dates.
As a child psychologist, we are constantly reminded that each
child is an individual and no child development theories can be applied to them because of their inherent uniqueness.
Similarly, it is impossible to replicate an event because of its out-of-the-blue situations that make it momentous.
