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The Rediff Special/ Aparajita Saha

'Indian brides look very beautiful'

Aparajita Saha attended Jhumpa Lahiri's wedding reception in Calcutta on Monday. This is what she saw:

None of the city's celebrities appeared at Singhi Barhi, 41/1-G, Guriahat Road, Calcutta 700 019 on Monday evening. They didn't have to. Tapati and Amar Lahiri's eldest daughter was the undoubted star, and family and friends of the Lahiri and Sanyal families turned up in their scores to greet the only Indian ever to win a Pulitzer Prize for fiction on her wedding day.

About 350 people -- some clearly on the outer reaches of the family -- jostled to take pictures with the bride who bore the attention with extreme patience though at times, it must be said, the strain showed on her delicate face.

Jhumpa Nilanjana Lahiri looked every inch the beautiful Bengali bride in a red and gold Banarasi sari and red veil with a faint gold border. Her white mukut, the bride's headgear made of bamboo pith, was lined with silver jari. Her hair was done in a bun and the chandan -- adorning her brow -- was artistically done. Her make-up was light -- foundation and a little rouge -- she also wore mehendi, not something Bengali brides usually have on their palms.

Her American groom Alberto Vourvoulias-Bush, deputy editor at Time's Latin American edition, manfully managed the beige dhooti-panjabi (dhoti-kurta) through the three hour-long reception. At the end, just before the couple entered the hall for their muhurat -- the reception preceded the marriage ceremony -- he held one end of his dhooti, the way bridesmaids in his country hold the bridal train.

"I am enjoying myself," he told one guest who inquired about his wellbeing. Only his topor, the Bengali bridegroom's headgear made of bamboo pith, tested his skill. Unable to balance it on top of his head, Alberto finally took off the topor and put it beside him.

While his father Jason wore a suit, brother Bill also chose a beige dhooti Panjabi. Bill kept himself busy, discussing his golf handicap with some of the other guests. Most of Jhumpa's uncles wore beige dhooti Panjabis, while the women preferred gold-border Banarasi saris in resplendent colours.

"Indian brides look very beautiful," Jason Vourvoulias declared approvingly at some point of the reception. His daughter-in-law certainly looked ethereal, a portrait of elegance that all her gifted prose would find difficult to capture.

Jhumpa's younger sister Jhelum was clearly the mistress of ceremonies, while mother Tapati chose to etch a lesser role.

The cuisine was simple. For the vegetarians, there was paneer shashlik, cholar dal, kochuri (puri with a filling of green peas), papad, sweet pickle and cabbage rolls. For the fish-eaters, there was fish petadi (betki fish steamed in mustard and spices wrapped in a banana leaf; it is not that common at Bengali weddings; the boneless fare, the helpful caterer confided, was chosen keeping the dozen-odd non-Indian guests in mind), fish fry, pulao and mangsho (a meat delicacy). For dessert, guests could have the Indrani -- the famed ras malai from Calcutta's fabled Ganguram sweet store -- and sandesh. Topped with paan, of course.

At about quarter past ten, as the last guests began to leave -- some staying much after the 2100 deadline -- Jason and Bill Vourvoulias embraced their son and brother, who then left for the flower-adorned marriage hall with his bride, the glass doors closing on all but immediate family.

Photographs: Jewella C Miranda

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