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Today, the CVs finally gave us the wedding of Rudra and Parvati who'd first met fifteen years previously when their buses halted alongside.
Much like a certain Harry and Sally they would meet each other in a series of coincidences over time. Just a few months earlier Rudra and Paro bumped into each other when he rescued her from some thugs. Then they brushed into each other a few days later at what had been her first wedding. And then again the day after her wedding at a riotous assembly on the Border. That meeting erased Paro's 'wedded' status and made her available to Rudra's advances, which took them as far as an attempted wedding - a huge, public (five village affair) at the Mahashivratri Mela, which unfortunately ended up as a cluster uh fail. So that this time round they were extra cautious.
So cautious, in fact, that the bride had no clue she was going to be married until the groom informed her and the handful of family members assembled in the haveli's courtyard that that's what he had in mind: "Here and now!"
They dispensed with the priest. Even the groom wasn't resourceful enough to find one at such short notice. So the groom acted for him. Fuelled rather erratically on fire water Rudra went about organising the ceremony, his enthusiasm more than making up for the lack of exactitude.
What did they need for the wedding? Rudra improvised with reckless abandon, blinking owlishly while his sozzled synapses solved the puzzle. He stuck to that formula throughout the night - sometimes replacing the blinking with a glassy stare or, rarely, with a yell. But we mustn't get bogged down in details. The important fact was that the groom managed it all on his own with nary an input from anybody else - not even the bride, although she did demur once, but I get ahead of myself.
Back to Rudra's improvisations. Rudra was his own modern-day Fairy Godmother. Instead of a wand, he made do with his eyes. Blink, blink, and the havan was fashioned out of the mortar in Kakisa's courtyard. Glassy stare and the freshly-dyed clothes became the havan samagri. Ferocious blink and yell and Kakisa's precious chair yielded wood for the havan. Another glassy stare and a length of cloth became the bearer of the sacred flame, which also simulated a Catherine Wheel to cheer up the rather down-in-the mouth bride. But only for a moment, because then it was time for the sacred fire to be lit in the havan. Blink again, and Rudra found the length of cloth that tied the Bride to the Groom. The knot gave a little trouble, thanks to the bride, but nothing that wouldn't yield to a little brute force
Finally, the stage was set for the pheras. If Rudra could conjure up a true-blue setting out of little more than nothing, he could more than ad-lib the vows. So, grabbing Paro's hand in an iron grip he staggered around the holy fire intoning the first vow: "In return for your blind love you will never ask anything from me." The second time he vowed that like she'd never trusted him, she too would never win his trust. The third vow he slurred about not being affected by her beauty.
Getting into the spirit of things, he added a dash of drama for the fourth: in the same way that his dignity had been snatched from him and nobody had heard the cries of his soul, she too would scream all life long and nobody would hear her cries. For the fifth he remembered Stephen King and lowered his voice to tell her that their togetherness would rival her worst nightmares. The sixth vow promised that his stubbornness would more than match hers. And as they entered the last lap, he pushed the pedal to the metal: "I'll never give you any happiness in life. Nor will I let you be happy." They'd won! And to celebrate their victory, he pulled her tight to him as they waltzed to the music of the eighth vow - that Rudra would never belong to Paro.
Stage One complete, it was now time to reprise the Sindoor scene - for the third time. The first time he'd used her blood to stain the parting in her hair. The second time he'd flung it into the air and waited for the powder to dust the parting in her hair. This time, he lurched to the temple and picked up a pot of sindoor, gathered a pinch and carefully - his aim was a little fluid like his intake - blazed a vermilion trail amidst her hair. Then flung the rest on to the floor in an artistic spray. And then it was time for the Mangalsutra. So he measured out a length of the holy thread he'd abstracted from the temple, tore it from the ball and knotted it around her neck with minimum fuss. Wedding complete! He clapped with glee and threw his hands wide to announce the newly-wedded Mr and Mrs. Rudra Pratap Ranawat.
Then thanking the guests, he staggered out into the night for some fresh air, leaving his bride swooning from all the excitement. The guests wrangled amicably as they do at successful weddings before melting away.
But some rituals remained, and Rudra was a stickler for detail. So he returned in time to carry his brand new bride over the threshold, away to his room, staggering but holding on tight. And chided her for her lack of faith in him - he was never going to be so drunk that he'd drop her...on the ground, that is. He had no problems dropping her on the bed. And enjoyed her maidenly blushes as she covered up her bare waist, then scooted up to the pillows and eyed him warily. So, he made a production of closing the door and sliding the bolt home and enjoyed her alarm. Then walked up to her tensing body and bent close to her while she arched away as he pulled out his celebratory drinks. And then sat down at the foot of the bed to toast the marriage. He was nothing if not thorough.
Tonight the CVs dispensed with gloves and let Rudra sock it to Paro and us. There were many moments, especially as Rudra ad-libbed the vows, that made for uncomfortable viewing. Rudra rained his pain, anger and bitterness relentlessly on Paro. Paro's "Not like this" was one of the most poignant statements of the night, along with Rudra's fourth vow and the pronouncement of "Mr. and Mrs. Rudra Pratap Ranawat".
I choose to read optimism in Rudra's statement to Paro when he staggers carrying her to his room that he was not so drunk that he'd drop her on the floor. And I see positive in the fact that after locking the room he only wanted to settle down with alcohol for the night. Paro would do well to remember his sixth vow before she sits down to drinking games with him. But then, perhaps she's better off disregarding all that he's said tonight, as she seems to be doing. Because after all she figured him out a few nights back when she told him that his mouth says something and his eyes something else.
Tonight's hate marriage was powerful and painful and left me churned up and, unlike last night, without a smile on my face. Hence this take to lighten things up a little. My apologies to 'When Harry Met Sally' fans if I've offended their sentiments.
Acting-wise again this was Ashish's episode. And Ashish unleashed was magnificent but heart-stoppingly terrifying. His voice modulation when he spoke his vows was superb. In Paro's shoes I'd have run a mile. Sanaya made me feel Paro's pain, heart-break, and pray that she'd stay far away from Rudra at least until he sobers up.
👏👏👏 to the cast and crew for a convincing hate marriage tonight. And I hope they will lighten things up tomorrow. 😊
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