They came, they saw ... and they were bewitched by the brilliant tapestry that comprises India.
The exodus from Europe was motivated by a chance to visit this exotic land and attend the wedding of an Indian friend who was tying the knot with a Spaniard.
All that the popular couple had to do was mention the words ‘wedding' and ‘India' and there was a stampede for flight bookings even as the pair watched and was the last to make their own reservations. The numbers that touched down in Mumbai were truly amazing, reminding one of wedding invitations of yore that requested family and friends to accompany the invitee.
They travelled in groups as each set had its own itinerary in mind. Some wanted to see the Taj Mahal and traverse Rajasthan while others were bent on making a beeline for the sun-soaked beaches of Goa.
Research and reading up on India's vast treasure trove of natural riches made all of them experts on where to go and what to see.
But none of their preparation and excitement could measure up to the real thing. What struck them first was the riot of colours that met their eye wherever their glance rested. Mesmerised by the hues of clothing, shop facades, hoardings and teeming traffic, they decided to commit themselves fully to this unique experience.
So, as soon as they arrived at the venue of the wedding, off they went shopping, determined to honour the Indian bride. They feasted their senses on saris and sherwanis and bought with gay abandon, delighting the salesmen who knew when they were on to a good thing.
Posing in front of mirrors, they exchanged admiring glances. Mentally converting euros into rupees, they were thrilled by their purchasing power. Forays were made into shoe shops to find matching footwear.
The Spanish contingent (family and friends of the bridegroom) had a language problem but, luckily for them, an aunt of the bride had settled in Spain. She and her children were designated official interpreters, which meant they were on duty 24/7.
Mandatory warnings
This was a first visit for all the guests so food ingredients had to be identified, described and rated on a scale of fieriness. Warnings had to be issued on drinking water and public transport if they ever gave in to the impulse to jump into an autorickshaw and explore the city on their own.
Taking the plunge into Indian traffic was the bravest thing they would ever do. Crossing a road choc a bloc with humans, stray cattle and all types of vehicles, none of which seemed to observe any traffic rules, was a death-defying stunt.
One such brave soul had the misfortune of being swiped by a vehicle while waiting to go over to the other side, which he very nearly did! Fortunately for him, the bride's father was a doctor so he was rushed to a clinic where an X-ray showed no fractures, merely bruising.
The Sangeet or musical celebration required practice. So, the assembly gathered to learn Bollywood-style dance steps. The rehearsal was strenuous, with several choreographers from among the bride's family finding it a tough task to cope with demand.
The guests were bent on taking part in everything and took the lessons much more seriously than even the bride's male cousins who deemed the movements as unbecoming to their dignity and sense of self-worth. These unwilling participants had to be cajoled into compliance.
The wedding day saw all the guests dressed in a rainbow of colours and when they saw how well they blended in with all those around them, they felt a sense of pride. They had come, they had seen and they had indeed conquered.
Whether this was a big fat Indian wedding I'm not sure. What I do know is who was fat after all the feasting. Me.
