You have to admit that your Mrs is looking quite fit... your head starts the famous spin and you start dreaming of your Suhaag Raat... Picture the setting, a lovely presidential suite at the Thorncliffe Hotel overlooking the M4 motorway and the sweet smell of 'Thorka' oozing out of Southall ... Ahhhh What Bliss.. NOT !!!
"Kartar, Kartar... oye Laloo Boy... Which way to the blaady reception hall? This stapid Tommy Tom is sending me to the bladdy Birmingham..." You are brought back down to earth by your Paagal Uncle (video uncle/cameraman uncle/mini cab uncle/builder uncle/you bloody name it uncle).. You never understand how the older generation can multi-task so well .. as well as avoiding the tax man ..
You tell your uncle to look at the wedding card for the reception postcode.. then realise that the cards your old man got from India were riddled with paandi spelling mistakes...Oh No !! This is gonna mean that your big day is gonna be full of only your Mrs's side ....You're just glad that your Mrs is at the back of the Paagal van sitting on top of Aunty Shiv and can't hear the panga going on ...
Alarm Bells !!!! On top of Aunty Shiv .. hai hai satya naas.. You pray to all the gods under the sun that absolutely nothing of Aunty Shiv's rubs off on her (and you don't just mean the make up) ...
DJ Taz from Paragon calls and asks where the f'ing hell you are.. Said that the hall was packed full of hungry desi's waiting for their starters... He tells you that grown adults are stealing the crisps and peanuts from other peoples tables.. 'Dude, it's gonna be civil war any minute' ...
Your old man calls 'Cooking Aunty' (the caterer) and says 'Pehn Jee.. Make sure you don't serve the kaana until I get there.. I spent too much blaady money , I must be the first to have the kebaab..." Uncle Prem calls your dad and tells him that the booze is running out so you lot better hurry up, your pyior(dad) tells him '..Oye paani paade beer de vich, make it last a bit longer innit.. we will be there in 5 minutes nothing to worry about yaaaaar...'
1/2 an hour later you all clamber out of the Paagal mobile... with creased outfits .. tilted turbans and runny make up .. you all go straight into the hotel reception area ...
Your little cousins are running around playing games with the fire extinguishers.. chavvy goray kids you never seen before loading (your) bottles of your favourite Jack and Danny into dodgy white vans in the car park...
Your dad tells you that you have 5 minutes to freshen up before you and your mrs have to enter the hall and greet your public ...
You leg it to the Presidential suite with your shaving kit and your mrs goes off with her 101 cousins to help her take a pish...Your bridal suite looks more like a squat than a hotel room .. 'Chal Koi Na..' you think to yourself.. 'get ready Karter...lets enjoy the rest of the day...'
You shave off the beard you've been sporting for the past 4 weeks... feels kinda sad coz you liked looking like a real Singh .. plus all the aunties and uncles kept saying 'Oye Kinna Sohna Lagda Pagh paake...'. You then start taking off the Malkit Singh style pagh and see your green hair fall out from underneath....'GREEEN.. Oye Paaan Da Yaaaaaaaaar' Your kunjar mates must have spiked the maya paste with hair dye last night .. No wonder they were full of Haa Haa and Hee Hees...'Don't panic mate... don't panic..' you urge yourself... You decide to put your turban back on.. except this time you are looking more like Hardeep Singh Kohli then Malkit Singh .... coupled with the fact that you don't have a beard... What the blaaady hell are you in laws gonna think ...'Oye Duffer.. hurry up son we are waiting for you'.. your dad shouts from outside the door...
After the horrific looks from all and sundry in the lobby area (yes including the chavvy goray kids) you and your mrs make your entrance (after keeping your hungry guests waiting for 4 hours)...
Kully Kinde Bains (the worlds first female classically trained dhol player) bangs out some beats in tune with Malkit Singh's 'Mamma Bada Great' as the whole kaan daan follow behind you dancing like a bunch of sharabi's (yes including the bibiya)…..As you walk past the boyz table you see them all with the most Cheesiest grins ever …They start laughing at your clean shaveness with a Pagh. What the hell have those Kuthay got planned for you? You start heading towards the famous mirch masalla mode …
‘God help me please … I promise I won’t harm a fly ever again … spare me from this potential embarrassment… ’
You sit down at the head table complete with red MacDonalds balloons and stare out at the 700 guests all ready to rip you apart like janwaars .. You can see they’ve caned all the peanuts and crisps and are starting to munch on the fake flower decorations…You gestured to your old man to get the starters served…’Don’t worry puttar, food will come once we have all done the cake shake…’
DJ Taz announces ‘Could only close family come forward for the cake ceremony, I repeat only close family’ .. Like blue arse flies to a pile of cow tutti.. it seems like the whole hall rushes forward .. With their killer instincts.. just to get a bit of the cake to satisfy their hunger … Hats off to DJ Taz and the Paragon crew as they manage with a few gentle Punjabi words of persuasion to get all the jaanwars back to their seats… Your’e glad Bal managed to get Paragon for a decent price.. the set up looks professional even though the hall looks like Southall bloody market … You would have had to deal with your Dad’s mates ‘The Dinku’s’ otherwise .. a cross between Premi and Abba on drugs …
Video uncle (Paagal Sahib) and his lula of a son Kamla burst to the front and start filming.. ‘Oye smile for thee camera.. This is happy day.. lovely wife.. your parents taking loan to pay for all this .. come on yaaar..enjoy enjoy enjoy’. Aunty Shiv’s the first to give you cake (even before your Maa Baap) .. She makes sure she gets a photo hugging and kissing you both .. You feel a shiver down your spine …
Then your mum and dad come up ... with your in laws .. “Ahhhh Very nice hogaya johri.. we are one family now… khushi vich rao.. aajo Bhangra Pao.. Mauj Manao.. Bruuuuaaaaah..” Your in laws look at your old man like he is the local park sharabi …
You spot your work table in the background .. those laloo’s are still wearing their frilly rumaals from the gurdwara .. Then like a jack and danny bottle on a desert island you spot your pyaari zindagi Asha looking like a fit Ash Rai in desi Baywatch .. staring at you like she wished she was the bride … Ahh what could have been…
.. Your mrs pinches you in the chittar and gestures you towards the dance floor .. ‘I’d like to request the dance floor is clear for the couples first dance.. please everyone respect the DJ otherwise starters will be delayed for another hour’… like school children being told off the dance area clears leaving you both staring into each others eyes on your first dance … You start dancing ‘luvvey duvvey’ to the tune of ‘Singh is King’ ….. Your mrs looks at you and says ‘Who the hell told them to play this’… You look up ‘puzzled’ at DJ Taz .. he points to your old man .. Standing on the side doing the Singh is King moves … with Snoop Dogg rap hand gestures.. What ever next?
Your dad and Paagal Uncle (with video camera) come on the dance floor and start dancing waving notes over your heads … They shout to the DJ.. ‘Oye, Koi Desi Gaana Laadey.. Bruuuaaaaah.. Lets start this party innit’ … The DJ whacks on ‘Captain Bhangra Da’ .. Like a swarm of drunken bees the dance floor packs out and looks like a gig at Ministry … Feels kinda good seeing everyone enjoying themselves… The boys teaching your gora mates how to dance ‘Screwing the lighbulb, opening the door knob and patting the dog styleee’… Bibiya busting out moves you never thought physically possible (especially at their age) …drunken uncles balancing bottles on their bald heads .. auntiya dancing giddha style .. kids trying act cool by doing hip hop moves to a paandi bhangra song….. The boys getting you up on their shoulders.. you feeling like Singh is King ….
It’s great .. bloody great … this is what a wedding should really be about .. You are actually starting to enjoy yourself and start believing that it could be a great day after all ……
True to form .. the boys do not disappoint …. ‘OK, OK.OK .. stop the music…’ You look up and see Jaz standing on stage with the mic … ‘I understand you are all hungry .. I suggest you all go grab some nosh and sit back and enjoy a little presentation the boys have made about our favourite yaaar Kartaaaar’ …..
ALARM BELLS start reverberating in your turban .. your worst nightmare is about to come true in front of all and sundry …. You have no where to turn … You can’t even spot a Jack and Danny bottle to help you get through it …. What the hell are these maa da yaar’s gonna do ???????
(to be continued in The Desi Wedding part 9 …)
( The Desi Wedding (Part 8) © OSD 2010 )
