I knew that Nileshwari would be an exquisite bride and that her wedding would an unforgettable experience.

I traveled all the way to Lucknow – in the midst of unbelievable work pressure and complicated family issues – because of my affection for this lovely young woman and, truth be told, out of a sense of curiosity and excitement: a royal wedding!

Not one thing about it disappointed.

The pageantry, the colors, the intricate and elaborate rituals. The gravity of the uncles, the delight of the children, the traditional concern for the guests and the impeccable hospitality of an ancient and venerable people . . .

Three days of ceremony and majesty, interspersed with music and food and wine and dancing. It was a magical time and I felt privileged to be there, behind the scenes, on the periphery as a “videshi” guest, mostly; but often right in the center as a photographer.

What a thing a camera is! It’s like a Diplomatic Passport – you wave it around and the Red Sea parts.

There are many stories about this wedding. The one I want to tell here is about the teasing, the tricks, the elaborate lengths each “side” (the girl’s side, the boy’s side) goes to to teach the other one a lesson, to bring a sense of playfulness into the serious and dignified relations between one family and another.

So here’s Nileshwari getting advice from a friend, pre-wedding:

You really do need to take advice from your friends for the task ahead. It’s complicated, after all. The groom had already sent her a bucket of water which he had bathed in and saved for her. Now she was expected to use the SAME water for her bath. Humph.

To get back at him, she scraped off the haldi paste she had been smeared with as ritual purification and kept it in a bag for when she would first meet him at the wedding grounds. She also added a bit of pre-chewed seeds for good measure. The task was to toss the whole mixture at him  without him seeing her do it.

Not easy, given that a bride is hardly a non-entity in a crowd.

Here’s our heroine trying to come up with a plan.

How to catch him unawares, given that he knew exactly what she was planning to do?

Whom to depend upon, how to pull this off?

Her friends all volunteered to help, but the problem was – by the ancient laws of engagement – it had to be she who flung the packet and he was not to see her trying to do it.

A puzzle, a problem!

Her friends took her from one side of the compound,

to the other . . .  but no spot seemed to work. As a diversion, they decided to place crispy papads under the groom’s seat at the wedding pandal:

and there was a wonderful fight to steal his shoes as he ascended the altar:

but the important thing was that Nileshwari managed, somehow, to hit him with the little mess she had so lovingly and carefully prepared:

and Divendra, good sport that he is and good husband that he will be, took in the right spirit. All is well in the land of happy endings!