I don’t know how many of you remember reading that I got conned into performing a mock wedding ceremony at the Hindu Youth UK’s Get Connected festival in Preston. Anyway, there I was, wide awake at the unearthly hour of 4 AM on 13th July, ready to be driven to the Guild Hall in Preston by Jay Ashra, a young lawyer from the HYUK team.
“I hope I am not really getting married!”, whispered Deena Rattan-Solanki the ‘bride’ at the mock wedding ceremony, while the ‘groom’, Sheetal Patel, nodded nervously. “Oh no,’ I assured them. “We are not kindling a fire to bear witness at the ceremony. So this will not be the real thing.”
One of the organisers, Balwant Sharma came on stage and chanted Sanskrit mantras in a very loud and enthusiastic voice that brought broad smiles from the VIPs on stage. Finally, he put both his hands up and shouted, “We are proud of our Hindustan. We are also proud of our Englishtan. Jai Hind, Jai England!”, a gesture that brought broader smiles from the VIP desks.
“Where are the matchboxes?” asked a visibly embarrassed Balwant Sharma, after the VIPs were requested to light a lamp. After a frantic search, a fervent appeal went to the audience and finally, a cigarette lighter was passed up. The Mayor, Jonathan Saxena, who is a non-smoker, fumbled around with the lighter while it firmly refused to light up. Arjun Vekaria, another organiser, promptly came to his rescue and all the lamps were finally lit.
While speaking from the stage, Irish-born Shaunaka Rsi Dasa referred to the different ethnic groupings of Hindus in Britain – Punjabi, Gujarati, Bengali, Sindhi, Tamil and others. “And now there are Irish Hindus as well,” he said pointing to himself.
The fashion show that followed had a stunning range of Indian clothes and a not-so stunning range of amateur models. Suddenly, the facilitator asked for a male volunteer on stage. An unsuspecting Jay Ashra, jumped up, only to be smothered from both sides by two women who draped a sari around him. A sporting Jay paraded up and down the stage trying to imitate the indomitable Aiswarya Rai, as the audience whistled and hooted in glee
I wandered around the stalls and found Ajamila Dasa from ISKCON, who is a Vaastu Master. “This is a three-dimensional model of the Sri Chakra,” he explained to a spell bound audience. “It is called the Meru Chakra and removes negative vibrations in your house.”
When I walked into the Spiritual Zone, I saw people coming out of a ‘Yoga Nidra’ workshop. “That was exactly what the Doctor ordered,” beamed Milan Samani from Chinamaya Mission’s youth wing. “After six minutes of relaxation, I was actually fast asleep. And boy, did it chill me out after all this running around.”
Dr Nick Sutton from Birmingham University also conducted some workshops at the Spiritual Zone. “I was very pleasantly surprised at the tremendous interest at the Spiritual zone,” he said. “All the sessions were productive and vibrant.”
The Career Zone had huge stalls set up the Army, Navy and Police to recruit Asians, while demonstrations of Reiki and head massage were being conducted in the Health Zone. Jay and his friend gestured to me and we trooped to the Food Zone to have lunch. I overheard a teenager in earnest conversation with a lady at the food stall. “What about the volunteers, don’t we get free food?” he was asking. “Go and get your coupon from Kailashben,” said the stern lady. “No coupon, no free food.”
The wedding ceremony I conducted had an audience that kept nodding at every word I said. Some smiled at my jokes, while others blinked at me and wondered if I was for real. The groom smiled and tried not to look too embarrassed when he had to hold the bride’s hand. The bride frowned and refused to step out of her high-heeled shoes. I gently tried to persuade her and, murmured, “Shoes are not usually worn by a bride at her wedding ceremony”. Her frown became bigger. “It’s only a mock wedding,” admonished Arjan Vekaria, and I relented immediately.
As soon as the ceremony was over, I had a fan-club that followed me around, mostly comprising of young eligible girls. All of them had one question they put up without blinking an eyelid: did I know of a suitable boy they could get married to? A promotion from High Priest to marriage broker seemed a natural progression. Poor old me!