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‘Well settled’

Last Updated 04 September 2019, 04:22 IST

Several decades back, weddings were not organized on ‘Turn-Key’ basis, the whole gamut from decoration, priests, catering, hospitality, and such orchestrated by an Event Manager, no doubt for a fat fee.

The weddings were conducted in Chennai’s ( then Madras ) age old choultries that were cavernous structures telescoping from threshold to the backyard. Every aspect from printing invitations to putting together goody bags for the departing guests, were allotted to the relatives of the bride’s father, who congregated in droves days in advance. A maternal uncle of the bride, chewing betel leaves, scented nuts and tobacco, with organizational acumen and track record of conducting scores of weddings under his green coloured Burma belt, would call the shots.
The principal duty would be catering-centric, involving procurement of groceries and vegetables and taking delivery of the cooking and serving vessels, varying from big urns to dabaras, tumblers, ladles, spoons and rose water sprinklers from the choultry storeroom.

A copy of the inventory would be given to the head cook, who would counter check them before taking possession. All fine and methodical, but the fun would start after the wedding was over and the vessels returned. In a certain wedding in our family, the bill the choultry manager presented included sizable compensatory amount towards items not returned. The chief cook and the cleaning staff who were summoned could not explain the inventory shortage.

Keemu uncle, a no-nonsense activist, who investigated the matter, found such lengthy and noisy harangues were not leading us anywhere. He therefore called for a long rope, used for drawing water from the well and a sturdy basket. and walked briskly to the well in the backyard, the choultry manager, close on his heels, gibbering incoherently.

Removing his vest and tucking his dhoti like a Sumo wrestler, Keemu uncle lowered himself into the well, holding the coir rope and hopping down in stages keeping his spread-eagled feet on the ridges of the wall. When he reached the surface of the water, he signaled to me to lower the basket secured to another rope. He plunged into the water and came to the surface soon, like the pearl fishing divers, and deposited the missing vessels one by one into the basket after several immersions. I pulled up the rope when he gave the thumbs up signal. After he came to terra firma, he warned the fidgety manager he was not calling the police as a wedding had just taken place.

When I went in, the bride’s father asked me eagerly whether the matter has been settled. ‘Rather ‘well settled’ I told him, falling back on the lowest form of humour.

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(Published 04 September 2019, 04:10 IST)

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