19 A Wedding in the Family

April 19, 2019

As we roared into the late 50s I was 7 years old, and my curiosity levels were ever rising. I had already travelled twice to South India with my Parents and had a healthy interest in people and places. Soon I heard from Amma that there was going to be an important marriage in our family and the wedding would be held in Bombay. Many of my close relations were expected from the south and this news was indeed exciting. My Grandfather’s younger brother and his family informed us that they would be staying with us in our home in Krishna Sadan.

Early in the morning, my grand uncle Dr B.D. Mallya and his family arrived at our home – we called him Dammanajjo and he was a very successful doctor and general physician in Cochin (now Kochi). Dammanajjo was a very affable person and all of us were immensely fond of him. Later on as we shall see in my memoirs, I spent many a summer holiday during my school days at their spacious home in Cochin. Along with his family came my cousin sister Mridula, who was slightly older than me – I remember playing with her happily at our home during this visit.

The bridegroom was my Father’s cousin, Ganpat Rao whom we called Ganpatmam. He was a tall man who had an uncanny resemblance to Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose – we were always delighted when he visited us at Krishna Sadan because he had a way with children and knew how to keep them amused. The wedding was held at the GSB Sabha Hall in Wadala which included the wedding ceremony in the morning followed by a gourmet Konkani lunch with close family and friends. Later in the evening, there was a formal Reception where I distinctly remember the pink ice cream that was served out of a special steel ice cream cup.

Once the wedding was over, all my outstation relatives including Dammanajjo and family prepared to leave for the south. When they finally left, our flat in Krishna Sadan felt empty and silent bereft of all the hectic activity of the last few days. Many years later I wrote a poem about this strange feeling of loneliness that I experienced when the guests departed – I am reproducing this poem below:

growing up

the marriage revelry is over
the wedding guests are departing
the home rings empty
and in the dappled silence of the room
the little boy pensively
gazes at the last bedding roll
and the last steel trunk
and within his heart wells a strange
new emotion called loneliness
as he watches sadly his uncle
hurriedly pick up his luggage
to catch his night train to madras