Raveena Tandon has recently got her daughter Chhaya married in Goa. She recently wrote a hilarious article for DNA about the interesting things that happened at the wedding.

We’ve all been exposed to big, fat Punjabi weddings (thank you, Yash Chopra!) and Gujju ones (courtesy Sanjay Leela Bhansali) and Marwari ones (via the Barjatyas). Hell, a week earlier, I even made the nightmarish mistake of watching a ‘modern wedding’ in Shaandaar. It scared the living daylights out of me and I thought I’d be scarred for life. But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to

But forget that. I managed to shake off the trauma and took off to Goa — beautiful, serene laid-back, fun-tastic Goa for the “Papaji” of all weddings — half-Punjabi/Sindhi and half Goan Catholic. So, here is the lowdown on a big fat Goan Catholic Punjabi wedding!

The beautiful ceremony was held at one of the oldest churches there. That morning must’ve seen the strangest crowd ever assembled in its history — a fusion of customs and costumes. The only similarity I found in Shaandaar was the mother fabulously played by Sushma Seth, and all my Sindhi and Punjabi aunts, all the gushing, diamonds dazzling on their teeth (wonder who thought of sticking a small crystal on one’s tooth for a extra sparkly smile!) and their bodies — well… not sure if it was the makeup, bronzer, shimmer or the Goan heat getting under their heavy brocaded blouses).

The Goan aunts with their big-hipped (a la Dimple Kapadia in ‘Finding Fanny’) lace frocks, threatening to fatten you up on the sausages even before you’ve learnt their name… After all the hugging-shugging and an impromptu “milni” outside the church between the two families, the ceremony began in full attendance and no delays (shocking that Padu and Dhru Maasi and Dolly Aunty finished their make-up on time and that Uncle Albert and Rodrick weren’t keeling over the pews hungover from last night!).

At the chapel, during the ceremony, my niece gave me her bouquet to hold and I mock-threatened all my other unmarried nieces that I’d throw it in their direction. They went along with it, ducking and hiding, not one of them willing to be the next to tie the knot.

And OMG! I said the exact Auntyji words to them I once cringed at: ‘Who’s next at the altar, girls?’ Flashback: It’s one of the most annoying things I have had to endure. Single me thronged by aunts who’d gang up to ask the question and taunt, ‘Ab beta, next teri baari hai?’. At the time, in my heart, I knew it was far from the truth. I was in a traumatic relationship with a non-committing friend. In my defense, I’d crack a joke and say that I was still looking for Mr. Right while partying with all the Mr. Wrongs.

I’d ask myself all the time, why they’d do this to me. After all, I’d know when I was ready. Anyway, at one such instance, a drunken friend came to my defence on seeing that worried look on my face. Slurring, she said,

Slurring, she said, “Ravshy, don’t you worry. You tell them, girl… if we should ask them at funerals, ‘Ab Auntyji, kya next aapki baari hai?’” That’s a terrible thought, thought I. I calmed down this friend and said, “Don’t even try.” Even thinking about it sounded rude.

Coming back to the present. I told the girls to chill. “Whenever you’re ready,” I reassured them. I had almost become the Auntyjis I’d disliked. After the I Do’s were done, everyone proceeded to more drinking and dancing and dancing and drinking. The two sides were easily identifiable. The Goan band belted out Mumbai Se Aaya Mera Dost and Hi Pori Konachi while quickly doing a rendition of Mast Kalandar soon after in honour of the Sindhis and Punjabis present. While the Goans jived, the Punjabi’s tried ‘breaking ground’ in true Dharam Paaji style. Goan band belted out Mumbai Se Aaya Mera Dost and Hi Pori Konachi while quickly doing a rendition of Mast Kalandar soon after in honour of the Sindhis and Punjabis present. While the Goans jived, the Punjabi’s tried ‘breaking ground’ in true Dharam Paaji style.

The dancing reached insane proportions with people dancing on walls and tables (no, really!).The Bride rocked it in a white bridal gown — the only white wedding where the bride wore choodas and kaleeris (ceremonial bangles and danglers that are the norm at Punjabi weddings) and mangalsutra and sindoor… phew!

Micheal Daaru Peeke Danga Karta Hai, Agaicho Saayba! The ‘performances’ — where the two families tried to outdo each other in displays of talent and low-cut blouses — followed. The Punjabis chose Western tracks while the Goans did the new Bollywood Bhangra pop — with humourous lines thrown into the boy-meets-girl script for good measure followed by the finale — Gallan Goodiyan.

So who won? The bandwaalas, of course. Lot of money was thrown after utaaroing the buri-nazar off the newlyweds. Cake-cutting and a round of toasts followed — with the father of the groom and I trying our best to outdo each other with emotional speeches and more so, with who bottoms-upped their champagne faster. The rest of the families also went a bit crazy with the emotions flowing faster than the champagne.

The hugging and kissing followed with pappis, jhappis and tears flowing as freely. And then we returned to the dancing and the partying. I noticed that the champagne disappeared faster than one could see. I have strong suspicions that the entire battalion of waiters standing behind the buffet tables had more to do with the disappearance of the alcohol than the guests themselves.

They couldn’t find any one waiter in the team who could pronounce pork sorpotel. ‘It’s ok, men! It’s Goa, men! Let’s all do merry-making, men!’ I swear, the Chaar Botal Vodka, Kaam Mera Roz Ka song on replay by the DJ, really got the message across. So, after all the khaana-peena and band-baaja-baaraat, it was time to go home. The couple was sent off in a ‘Just Married car, with tin cans and empty beer bottles tied to the car’s back fender, rattling away. Goa, men! The couple was sent off in a ‘Just Married car, with tin cans and empty beer bottles tied to the car’s back fender, rattling away.

Completely shaadi’d out, I returned to Mumbai with the conclusion that no wedding in the world could outdo a big fat Indian wedding. The decadent fun, the drama, the madness and the glory, all makes us what we are. And let’s not forget, this particular one was a double dose of madness, the Goans and the Punju/Sindhis! A beautiful culmination fusion of traditions and customs — this is what my glorious country is about…Mumbai with the conclusion that no wedding in the world could outdo a big fat Indian wedding. The decadent fun, the drama, the madness and the glory, all makes us what we are. And let’s not forget, this particular one was a double dose of madness, the Goans and the Punju/Sindhis! A beautiful culmination fusion of traditions and customs — this is what my glorious country is about…