Mawwiage- Deven's Wedding

August 22, 2010 

Jersey City

ONCE UPON A TIME, I made friends with a boy named Raj. He introduced me to his brother, G, whose friend, Brian, also became my friend. Brian was very close friends with a guy named Scott, but not as close friends as he was with Bang. Raj had a twin brother named Ravi. Raj, Ravi, and G were childhood friends with Alpesh and his big brother, Deven. Last weekend, Deven was married to Dhara, in Atlanta. This Saturday, their families hosted a second wedding reception for friends and family local to Jersey City, NJ.

I told Kari I would pick her up by 4 for the drive to Jersey City. I was feeling very late, but actually left pretty close to 4pm. During the drive, Bang texted: "Watch out for the speed trap right as you get into NJ" and "Lots of traffic until Exit 7." Thus, we were not one of the cars that got pulled over immediately after getting onto the Garden State Parkway, and we were mentally prepared for the inching traffic, which cleared up right after Exit 7. Bang and Brian checked into the room about an hour ahead of us, and were well on their way through a bottle of Captain Morgan when we arrived.

I turned my keys over to the valet, ecstatic to get the hell out of the car after three hours of stop and go driving. We made a beeline to the elevator: the boys because their drinks needed refreshing, Kari and I to meet the bellhop, whom we had entrusted with our favorite dresses, shoes, and our pajamas. In the elevator, the guys' voices boomed, startling the politely dressed Indian parents and grandparents, who were undoubtedly wondering how all these loud Asians got onto their elevator:

Bang: Hey, Brian! Are we with the Patel-Patel wedding, or the Patel-Doshi wedding?
Brian:I don't know; probably the Patel-Patel wedding!

I'll omit the part where Kari ushers B&B off the elevator, apologizing to the elders and scolding the boys for being too loud. Raj's wife Krupa kindly agreed to come upstairs to help me put on the sari I borrowed from Varsha. (Krupa and Raj's baby shower was the next day, Sunday. Lots to celebrate.) When Krupa arrived, I realized I had never really spent any time with her before. Ravi's wife, Jhuli, also came.

Krupa was very pregnant. She was also very funny and nice, and Brian and Bang knew the girls well. I followed directions as Krupa helped me put all the pieces of the sari in place: I was in pain from how tight she tied the waist. She explained this was imperative to keep the infinitely-long, beautifully-embellished silk scarf which she skillfully folded, tucked, and wrapped, from falling out while walking, dancing, etc.

The reception was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. The tall orchid arrangements really made my night; you could smell them from anywhere in the room. Deven and Dhara sat in the front of the room, under a canopy, on a stage. Their friends and family presented them with speeches and choreographed "garba" dances. This is a video from the garba dance from the Atlanta wedding. Dhara's brother is an amazing dancer.

After the garba dances, Deven and Dhara had their first dance, which was lovely. Dinner was family-style vegetarian Indian food. We asked for more naan. They brought us tortillas. We ate them happily. We danced and danced and danced for hours and hours and hours. It was a blast! It was so great to see everyone after quite some time (my last time seeing them was Raj and Krupa's wedding, about two years ago).

In the same way that parting with Mary for eleven years didn't really matter, sharing this special evening proved how fast time goes by, but how quickly friendships can take us back to our innocence. It is amazing to see "the guys," now with their fiancees, (pregnant) wives, and G even has a 15-month old baby boy!

We made friends and stayed up very late, on the deck of the Hyatt, looking across the Hudson at the lights of Manhattan. In the morning, Bang left early, but not without putting toothpaste on our toothbrushes for us (thanks, Bang!). I savored a very long cup of coffee in the restaurant, envying the people being swept along on the Hudson by the breeze in their sails. At 10, I awoke Kari, and we fumbled our way to the baby shower picnic.

We were a little early, and snacked on a lot of nachos and pickled peppers. We took a walk around the park, talking about love and mawwaige, and got caught in a delightful sun shower on the walk back. We had to leave before 1pm, because it would take at least three hours to get home. Before we left, I had an awesome conversation with G's wife, T, about what marriage means to their families (they are Indian and their families are from Gujurat, but I'm not sure how broadly her description applies). Also, please note that her answers were based on older traditions; not necessarily how their families, or modern families, see or do things. (There are always exceptions.)

I had noticed that, during the speeches, everyone referred to Deven's family as Dhara's new family. I wondered if it meant "the family she is newly a part of", or "we are no longer your family; your husband's is your new family." It is the latter. I learned that, from a young age, the women observe their mothers devoting their entire lives to their father's family - him, his parents, his guests, his family. When a woman is married to a man, her mother traditionally does not come to stay overnight in their home anymore, because the wife should focus on tending to the needs of her husband and his family. The wife is expected to move to where the husband is, and tend to his parents. For the holidays, she cannot visit her mother because her husband will have guests, to whom she must tend. Mothers, in effect, give their daughters to the husband's family. We noted that it is lonely for mothers who do not have any sons to stay nearby, but have to "give" away all their daughters.

I thought it was interesting and beautiful, the way she described it. She seemed to accept and respect the traditions, and I'm really thankful that she shared that cultural morsel with us.

We stuck around for some cake, and then rushed onto the highways to sit behind other cars in lots of traffic. I took a detour through some random Jersey towns, and then forced Kari to eat disgusting junk food (although I prefer to call it deep-fried manna) at the Cracker Barrel. Our server was a sweet talkin', handsome young man, who refreshed me with his charm and some fried chicken (saweet). We made the drive home about three hours longer with our shenanigans, which included laying on Mark and Mimi's couches for a long time, making Kari's sister text the entire extended family to find out why her mom and Mark weren't there to greet us when we arrived unannounced (whoops).

Unbelievably, we drove to the farmhouse, I packed an overnight bag, and we made like zombies back into the city, to collapse at Kari's.

Deven and Dhara were married. T told us about the irreversible unity of man and wife in their culture. Kari and I are often inseparable. With all this joining, I hope people remember to keep themselves . . . well, to keep their selves.

On Marriage, Khalil Gibran

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.


Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.


Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Thank you, JP.