I don't, and other dramas

Yesterday I was looking through a bunch of wedding photos. I was inspired by an article in the Washington Post, a feel-good puff piece about Washington DC couples renewing their vows after 50 years of marriage. It was sweet. It glossed over the fact that most of these couples - all Catholic - had at least 4 kids, some had as many as 10. Clearly, these people take their injunctions seriously.

Personally I don't understand marriage - the thought of inviting all your friends and family to witness you join your life to another person's until you both die - well, I'm being cynical, but it just makes it worse if it doesn't work out. I feel as if life is never as perfect as wedding photographers would have us believe. If you're fortunate enough to actually be that happy, you shouldn't tell anyone. You'll jinx yourself.

But up in Antioch the other day, my aunt was telling me about her wedding. She mentioned the saptapadi, and I realized something. These gestures - the garlands, the sindoor, the seven trips around the fire - strike me as deeply romantic. For some reason I always assumed I didn't want a wedding because I was picturing a Christian wedding. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why I thought this.

There are things I would change. For example, there are never any photos from a Hindu wedding of the bride and groom making out in some exotic locale. That's a Christian tradition, but it's one we should adopt. I've always been annoyed by hypocritical Indian prudishness. This is a culture where long-lost aunts will pinch their niece and nephew's cheeks, and cousins will slap each other on the shoulders, and strangers will feed each other with their bare hands. Meanwhile, for a married couple to kiss each other on the cheek in the morning is somehow improper. Bunch of shit, and it just increases people's overall repression. And anyway, the dishonesty of priests aside, we all know that one of the seven promises is about sex. It's in the Gita.