BISHNUPRIYA MANIPURI KNOT
Posted On Wednesday, March 07, 2007 at at 03:53 by rk rishikesh sinhaBride and bridegroom were both anonymous and so were their parents; not because they have any reservation about their marriage itinerary would be made public, visible from any part of the world. The truth is: I don’t know the either party. Despite not knowing the actors, who were object of cynosure for all the visitors present on the fateful day, I could confidently declare that they both belongs to Bishnupriya Manipuri (BM) community.
Hardly, it has ever happened that a simple looking marriage go for occupying ones brain’s space. But, there exist such marriages where we go uninvited like unsolicited spam into the marriage inbox, and the memories powered by real time instances remains crept in our mind. So, this was the marriage which I will ever hate to forget.
Now, the question arises – how could I dare to go like the spam in the marriage inbox. Simple, I am a Bishnupriya Manipuri, a certificate in itself to peek into and trespass any social or private congregation. And a marriage comes as the most haunted or hunted place.
Usually, I dislike and abstain myself from attending birthday parties, marriages or any event where known or unknown people assimilate. I hate, as much, if possible I will not go to my own marriage.
The repeated, compulsive persuasion by my friend Biswadeep took me to the marriage venue. The persuasion honeyed by ‘the first marriage in Delhi by BM community’ indeed helps me to melt. For a moment, my inner self which always crow about to go down to history; almost enthused me to witness such historically important (read red latter day) event. Thus ending up in the list of faceless, countless visitors, who had emptied their rubbery stomach much early.
The marriage which ran till 2 o’clock, I was constantly thinking – if I were the great writers like RK Narayan or JB Priestley- I could have been able to pen down the comical plot developed in the venue.
It was possibly the first BM marriage (as per the record in my life time I have attended 3 BM marriages and 5 non BM marriages) solemnized at the temple in the space starved city, Delhi; after array of legal formalities and the blessings of a non – BM Brahmin were completed.
I feel pity for the Brahmin institutionalizing the marriage in the eyes of GOD. Just think – what would he be thinking about us? Phas Gaya (trapped)!? Unaware of the language, customs, and our genetic gene, which we all do carry, in his style of ritual was busy in completing the on-hand work. Sorry, Shastriji. You fail to come to our standard Brahmin living in our decrepit village.
And about those called or uncalled guest plus children, the climate and the sama that they unconsciously built-up was more funny and at the same time amusing in nature। One could have find in the air streams of languages, English, Hindi, Assamese, BM, Meitai, Bengali and what not. The conundrum was such that it made me thinks twice, even thrice before I uttered a word and fell in conversation with a person opposite to me.
Hardly, it has ever happened that a simple looking marriage go for occupying ones brain’s space. But, there exist such marriages where we go uninvited like unsolicited spam into the marriage inbox, and the memories powered by real time instances remains crept in our mind. So, this was the marriage which I will ever hate to forget.
Now, the question arises – how could I dare to go like the spam in the marriage inbox. Simple, I am a Bishnupriya Manipuri, a certificate in itself to peek into and trespass any social or private congregation. And a marriage comes as the most haunted or hunted place.
Usually, I dislike and abstain myself from attending birthday parties, marriages or any event where known or unknown people assimilate. I hate, as much, if possible I will not go to my own marriage.
The repeated, compulsive persuasion by my friend Biswadeep took me to the marriage venue. The persuasion honeyed by ‘the first marriage in Delhi by BM community’ indeed helps me to melt. For a moment, my inner self which always crow about to go down to history; almost enthused me to witness such historically important (read red latter day) event. Thus ending up in the list of faceless, countless visitors, who had emptied their rubbery stomach much early.
The marriage which ran till 2 o’clock, I was constantly thinking – if I were the great writers like RK Narayan or JB Priestley- I could have been able to pen down the comical plot developed in the venue.
It was possibly the first BM marriage (as per the record in my life time I have attended 3 BM marriages and 5 non BM marriages) solemnized at the temple in the space starved city, Delhi; after array of legal formalities and the blessings of a non – BM Brahmin were completed.
I feel pity for the Brahmin institutionalizing the marriage in the eyes of GOD. Just think – what would he be thinking about us? Phas Gaya (trapped)!? Unaware of the language, customs, and our genetic gene, which we all do carry, in his style of ritual was busy in completing the on-hand work. Sorry, Shastriji. You fail to come to our standard Brahmin living in our decrepit village.
And about those called or uncalled guest plus children, the climate and the sama that they unconsciously built-up was more funny and at the same time amusing in nature। One could have find in the air streams of languages, English, Hindi, Assamese, BM, Meitai, Bengali and what not. The conundrum was such that it made me thinks twice, even thrice before I uttered a word and fell in conversation with a person opposite to me.
Besides all this, if something I was missing a lot and craving for it miserably, desperately the whole night, it was “ti te aamar ……ugor…..(You are my…..realtive’s ….) phrase”. I suppose, everyone was feeling the same. So, an old lady while taking dinner broke the silence and asked me “baba ti te kumper go (From where are you) ”. There is no prize for guessing she was successful in making the hereditary chain of my family.
And without the mentioning of girls, the mere description of marriage does not hold water. The marriage seems absolutely insipid and dull. They were really looking damn beautiful, charming, attractive deaf and dumb girls.
Coming to boys, though I interacted with every bachelor except two or three (I have forgotten their names) they were indeed smitten by love bugs especially towards those wearing saree and salwar kameez. Believe me, boys kept their liked/loved secret as girls keep and protect their feelings. The secret was close to their heart.
Now, attending the marriage seems a complete reverie for me. It was full of fun finding myself in the same breed of people. Well. MAY GOD BLESS THE COUPLE. Anyway, the dinner was hot and tasty, the last word as one could expect from an uncalled visitor.
And without the mentioning of girls, the mere description of marriage does not hold water. The marriage seems absolutely insipid and dull. They were really looking damn beautiful, charming, attractive deaf and dumb girls.
Coming to boys, though I interacted with every bachelor except two or three (I have forgotten their names) they were indeed smitten by love bugs especially towards those wearing saree and salwar kameez. Believe me, boys kept their liked/loved secret as girls keep and protect their feelings. The secret was close to their heart.
Now, attending the marriage seems a complete reverie for me. It was full of fun finding myself in the same breed of people. Well. MAY GOD BLESS THE COUPLE. Anyway, the dinner was hot and tasty, the last word as one could expect from an uncalled visitor.
Hi...I'm a BM...I just read yor article ...It was awesome...I want to say one thing...You don't have to be RK Narayan or JB Priestley to express yor feelings...You are genius in yor own feelings...Thanx for posting such a wonderful article...
Hi Rishi....I just went through your article. It is really very nice and while reading it the whole situation was in front of my eyes....You have just penned down what exactly your heart felt....thanks for such a wonderful piece of work....I wish you all success in life.
This article was nice and good keep it up Rishikesh