Peeking Through Bengal’s Window #NuptialNarratives

With marriages, new experiences keep pouring in from all directions, in different flavours. It doesn’t matter though that they are out of their assumed chronological order. This time I could be seen dusting and donning the cap of daughter-in-law again as I began the journey of visiting my husband’s maternal ancestral home for the first time. Being the only daughter-in-law and visiting them for the first time was already weighing heavy on my shoulders long before the start of the trip. There were newer roles to adapt. Meeting people outside the setting of my own wedding, already gave me some jitters. One can take them as a trial for an introvert!

As soon as we reached there were younger cousins bubbling with happiness to see us after a long time. The stories of wedding preparations filled our ears even before we reached home. The house gave a perfect summer home vibe since it had been the backdrop of P’s summer memories and anecdotes. Reflecting back, I think living in metro cities and plush minimalist inspired  apartments, what remains of these traditional row houses are just our sepia-toned memories. A week spent there, though a completely new city and environment yet every moment somehow reminded me of my own childhood. I believe that’s the power of any Nani’s household. The blooming of flowers in the garden told how pure the air was! The taste of the vegetables from the kitchen garden was refreshing. Nothing could compare a refreshing shower with the cold water from the family’s own well in the backyard. Name of which ensued another set of stories.

The narrow lanes leading through varied-shaped houses, where now cars struggle to pass. Kids enjoying the terrace, their playfulness not restricted by the boundaries of a balcony. The people peeping out of their windows and the aunties being aware of who’s who and all the latest events. The seller walking through the by-lanes knocking each house to sell Misthi Doi was the most humbling sight. P took me to the market which my mother-in-law raves about every time she is back from here. Food indeed was delectable at throw-away prices. Searching for a perfect Kantha Saree in the whole market gave me a glimpse how different a city from another culture can be and yet it can evoke the same emotions I used to have when I would go shopping with mom in my teen-years.

I couldn’t remember how many neighbours dropped in before the wedding functions started, just to meet us or offer their help in the preparations. Watching bride’s close friend draw Alpona on the floor despite the sweltering weather, was heart-warming. Even before the rituals and festivities started, celebrations already began first with the bachelorette followed by a grand family dinner the next day. And when there is a big gala family event, drama drops in uninvited. The late-night banters turned into advice for the bride’s upcoming journey as a newly-wed. As she mentally took note of our wisdom, I often found myself reminiscing my days as the bride. Every advice reminded me some bitter-sweet memories with a pinch of nostalgia.

Navigating my way through the family tales and gossips, I would often head back to the room we were stationed in to find myself a breather. This moment would mostly turn to be a catch-up session with the husband about the happenings in different parts of the house, sharing our POVs on the same situations and also making judgement on people and situation. Trust me when I tell you, such visits can be a part of good bonding exercise with your spouse!

The peak summer of Bengal wasn’t a bit deterrent in diminishing anyone’s spirit. Bowing to it, even the rain-gods offered some respite as we watched the stars being shadowed by the clouds. We even managed a brief escape, trading the wedding hullabaloo with some moments of silence. It took no time from this turning from peaceful drive to an adventure when the family found us missing from the house. Presence of P’s brother-in-law during this escape was the only thing that prevented us from the temper of the entire family.

Witnessing a pure Bengali wedding full of rituals was exhilarating experience. How every ritual had a hidden significance and involved one or the other member of the family, seemed very thoughtful. As the rituals moved on and so did the little banter, I grew more comfortable. Amidst all, I couldn’t help and notice the stark differences from a typical North-Indian wedding. The simplicity of a Bengali wedding was known to me but being a part of it confirmed it. Some rituals were similar to the ones from our wedding while Nandi Mukh, Kolai Mongala and Lagn Khola were the new ones I came across. The most considerate of all the rituals which touched my heart was the one where bride’s brother accompanies her to her marital home and stays with her until wedding reception. This gives the room for open communications for any hesitations she would face in the new household. Lovely thought, isn’t it?

The buffet system of the north was replaced by a sit-down meal for the guests where the guests take seats in batches and the food items are served in the order of the menu placed on the table itself. In the sea of non-vegetarian delicacies (which everybody seemed to rave about), I managed to find my beloved Dal Makhani. It was a bizarre preparation, and I am still craving an authentic one!

Being married tests a person’s social skills at all levels. I have experienced it first hand on my many occasions and this was no different. Juggling different roles and conversations kept me on my toes throughout the week. It also felt comforting to find myself fit in into the family’s morning rituals and hearing stories of husband’s childhood mischiefs. It was fun. Seeing him through their eyes painted a side of his personality which was otherwise unknown to me. The entire trip was like unlocking different versions of my husband and his parents, and at some level mine too! Gossiping during the return journey about the events definitely opened new doors of my relationship with my mother-in-law. It was like bonding pro-max over the saree of a guest we just couldn’t get out of our minds. The discussions of sarees led to the topic of the glamour of Banarasee sarees which were on display by the young guests, despite the rising humidity and scorching heat.

The whole trip proved to be a window to the Bengali community. I felt what I had witnessed before this was like peeping through the keyhole. Getting the glimpse of the culture you are married into while adapting it, makes the journey even more beautiful.

Running through the stairs whole day might have compensated for all the amazing sweets I ate through my vacation, I thought. With my heart full of love, mind full of new stories and bag full of laundry Bengali sweets we returned to the burning land of NCR.

This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop.