THE WEDDING
A bloke I work with was incredibly kind enough to invite me to his wedding on Saturday, which was the day I flew out of London so everything was incredibly rushed.
It was my first Hindu wedding, though I had always hoped that Desh’s wedding would be the first one I would ever go to but I can’t wait forever can I?
It was great seeing Bhavin in his get up (I apologise about my comment about the fancy dress party thing. It was a joke) and all his friends and relatives getting fired up with dance and song. The bewildered looks of the English golfers strolling across to the 13th hole was quite amusing.
The priest or Maharaji was bloody good. His style screamed Baby John Burgess and his hypnotic chanting was not unlike an auctioneer at the yearling sales. The difference being he was marrying off two very lovely people who are very much in love and not selling horses to Arab Sheiks for the sport of kings. (Dunno where I was going with that)
The three hour ceremony was chock full of symbolism which I must admit went entirely over my head. You know that romantic stuff. Taking seven steps and seven vows, walking round a fire four times while having stuff thrown at you. That’s all I got.
The food served at lunch was magnificent and being Gujarati it was all vegetarian. If all my food tasted like that, I would also forgo that dirty, cholesterol filled worm-infested meat in a heartbeat. If there are any Gujarati women out there looking for love and a man with a stomach please email me. Alternatively, if anyone knows a good restaurant in Shanghai if they, could email me as well it would be much appreciated.
My only regret is not being able to go the reception for the hoe down and THE FOOD (Oh my God the food!) and not being able to thank Bhavin for the invite personally as I had to high tail it to Heathrow to catch my flight. Good luck mate.
It was my first Hindu wedding, though I had always hoped that Desh’s wedding would be the first one I would ever go to but I can’t wait forever can I?
It was great seeing Bhavin in his get up (I apologise about my comment about the fancy dress party thing. It was a joke) and all his friends and relatives getting fired up with dance and song. The bewildered looks of the English golfers strolling across to the 13th hole was quite amusing.
The priest or Maharaji was bloody good. His style screamed Baby John Burgess and his hypnotic chanting was not unlike an auctioneer at the yearling sales. The difference being he was marrying off two very lovely people who are very much in love and not selling horses to Arab Sheiks for the sport of kings. (Dunno where I was going with that)
The three hour ceremony was chock full of symbolism which I must admit went entirely over my head. You know that romantic stuff. Taking seven steps and seven vows, walking round a fire four times while having stuff thrown at you. That’s all I got.
The food served at lunch was magnificent and being Gujarati it was all vegetarian. If all my food tasted like that, I would also forgo that dirty, cholesterol filled worm-infested meat in a heartbeat. If there are any Gujarati women out there looking for love and a man with a stomach please email me. Alternatively, if anyone knows a good restaurant in Shanghai if they, could email me as well it would be much appreciated.
My only regret is not being able to go the reception for the hoe down and THE FOOD (Oh my God the food!) and not being able to thank Bhavin for the invite personally as I had to high tail it to Heathrow to catch my flight. Good luck mate.
posted by Hooner at 7:34 pm
2 Comments:
Thanks for making it and glad u enjoyed it mate... shame you missed the reception.. absolute carnage.. way too much booze...
all the best
You never know, Desh may be buffing up as we speak to woo the island girls in Hawaii, Tonga, Samoa and Fiji...
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