My Fiancé Nearly Missed Our Wedding
by Malathi Ramji
In December 1959, I was 19 years old and a post-graduate student at Bombay University. Ram was 25, and had been in London, England for four years, working as an electronics engineer. Our parents had just become close friends, and hoped to introduce us to each other.
Marriages are made in heaven, but many Indian parents try to give Heaven a helping hand! Arranged marriages give little say to the bride and groom. These occur most often in orthodox families, where children grow up to respect parents’ wishes implicitly. On the other hand, there are liberal-minded parents, like ours, who prefer to introduce their sons or daughters to suitable young persons, and then let Heaven do its share of work!
Ram and I had each had a few such introductions to other young eligibles in the past, but these had not progressed very far. One evening, Ram was going through his mail when, under a pile of Christmas cards, he found a letter from his parents enclosing a studio size photograph of me, a total stranger to him. What made him send his father a lengthy cable in reply, he will not tell, but a woman’s intuition provides a good guess! We became pen-pals, and soon grew eager to meet each other. My father decided to fly Ram over. When Ram announced to his colleagues in England that he was flying to Bombay on a week’s holiday, they concluded that a modest Indian Maharaja was in their midst after all! He arrived in Bombay on a Saturday afternoon, early in February 1960, and that same evening, called on us. Our first impressions of each other were very favourable. We had other company in our house besides Ram and his parents, and after a little while, he plucked up courage to ask my father if he could take me out for a drive. My father hesitated briefly and then agreed, and soon we were in the car, heading for beautiful Juhu Beach. A whirlwind courtship? – he had proposed within the next couple of hours and I was up in the clouds!
Our parents were surprised but overjoyed at the rate of progress. Our engagement was solemnized a couple of days later, in a special religious ceremony. We spent that week in getting to know each other better, and the time for parting came much too soon. Ram flew back to London, and was to return in three months for the wedding.
Hindu weddings of North and South India differ in their customs and practices. Both Ram and I come from the South, and our wedding was to be celebrated in traditional South Indian style. A dowry from the bride’s father was once commonly expected, but is now a rarity. However, the bride’s father still bears all the wedding expenses, and celebrates the occasion with all the splendour his finances will allow. Until several years ago, marriage celebrations lasted four days; in these times, mounting expenses and lack of time have reduced them to a single day. This is a social occasion to which all relatives and friends, near and far, must be invited. Our wedding was attended by nearly three hundred invitees, some of whom came from out of town.
A South Indian wedding is usually held in the bride’s home. A special marquee is constructed within the grounds in front of the house for the occasion. In a city of apartments like Bombay, special halls are available for hire. An altar is constructed in the middle of the hall, as all Hindu ceremonies are solemnized before a sacred fire. Almost a dozen priests are present to chant the prayers in Sanskrit. On the eve of the wedding, prayers are held at a temple with everyone present except the bride. The groom is then taken in a decorated car with the rest of the guests following on foot, from the temple to the wedding hall. There the bride awaits him. A second engagement ceremony is performed by the priests, followed by a sumptuous dinner for all guests. By tradition, bride and groom are not allowed to meet after the ceremony. The next morning, the wedding ceremonies commence very early. The groom is dressed in a white-and-gold silk dhoti. The bride is arrayed in a beautiful silk sari with delicate gold embroidery, and is adorned with flowers and jewels. Now follows a sequence of religious ceremonies, with about a half-dozen dress changes for the bride. Each sari she wears is more gorgeous than the one before. The choice of colours and styles is left to the bride, and there is no one traditional colour that must be worn. The knot is tied when the groom fastens a special gold chain around the bride’s neck; this she must always wear from then onwards. The guests are treated to breakfast and a lavish lunch. A reception, with music and light refreshments, follows in the evening. Bride and groom are enthroned on a special dais, to receive good wishes from all invitees. My parents had hired some beautiful gardens adjoining a sports stadium and overlooking the sea, for our reception, which was to be held as a garden party.
The hall and cooks had been hired, invitations sent out and the traditional clothes, silverware and gifts for relatives and friends had been purchased. A week before the day, May 8th, out-of-town guests had begun to arrive in trickles. On Thursday, May 5th, Ram’s plane was expected to land in the afternoon and his parents had gone to the airport to receive him. But the plane did not arrive, and much to their concern, no one seemed to know when it was expected. All they could do was go home and phone for news after a few hours. They were later informed that the plane had developed severe engine trouble in Cairo and had therefore been grounded. Alternative arrangements were to be made for the passengers to continue their onward journeys. This was the airline’s first major breakdown experience, and their organization had gone into near chaos. We were unable to get any specific whereabouts of Ram, in spite of his two attempts to send messages through the airline’s Cairo office. By Friday evening, there was still no news of him, and it seemed unlikely that he would be in time for the ceremonies of Saturday, the eve of the wedding, much to everyone’s disappointment. The actual wedding could be held as planned on Sunday morning, if he arrived by then.
Saturday morning arrived, and there was still no news of the bridegroom. Hope faded and it seemed as if the wedding would have to be called off. The next auspicious date that would suit both our horoscopes might be weeks or months away! Hoping against hope, my parents determinedly carried on with the last-minute preparations. Our car and those of several friends were making trips to and from the wedding hall, taking groups of guests and running errands. At 10 o’clock on Saturday morning, our telephone rang, and I answered. It was Ram! He was calling from Bombay airport. He had kept his date after all!
Ram had left London as planned on Wednesday, May 4th, by an Air-India Boeing 707. This was one of the very first Boeings that the airline had acquired. Everything went well on the flight from London to Geneva. Between Geneva and Rome, however, one engine developed some trouble. At Rome airport, the plane’s departure was delayed for half an hour while ground crews worked on the engine. Unfortunately, the trouble recurred on the Rome-to-Cairo stretch, and at Cairo the passengers were told that the plane could not proceed further. Until alternative transportation could be arranged, they were put up at luxury hotels in downtown Cairo, and were treated as royal guests of the airline.
A service engineer was flown out from the Rolls Royce plant in England to see what could be done. He found that the engine was so badly damaged that it would have to be replaced. As it would take a few days for the new engine to arrive from England, the passengers had to resign themselves to a short stay in Cairo. Other airlines bound for Bombay picked up a few persons at a time, depending on the space available. Owing to the recent Suez crisis, the only planes flying that route were smaller aircraft like the BOAC Comets, and only a handful of passengers could be accommodated at a time. Priority was given to some urgent cases, among them a couple of expectant mothers. With typical male illogic, Ram had refused to insist on priority by explaining the reason for his hurry to get to India! For the passengers who were left in Cairo, this had turned out to be an unexpected and welcome holiday. Sightseeing tours to the Sphinx and the Pyramids were arranged for them, and all food and drink could be charged to the airline’s account.
For Ram, the holiday, though pleasant, had come at an inopportune time! He decided to take matters into his own hands in order to make it for his wedding. He had struck up a friendship with two Indian businessmen who also wanted to get to Bombay without delay, and who knew of Ram’s urgency. The three managed to find seats on a Middle East Airlines’ DC-6B flying from Cairo to Beirut. They left Cairo that afternoon, reaching Beirut at 7pm. At Beirut airport, they gathered that there was no plane leaving that day for India or Pakistan. The airline bus drove them twenty miles into the city. As they were checking into a hotel, the desk clerk informed them that there was a Pan American Boeing leaving at 10pm for Karachi. There was no time to wonder who had made a mistake; all they could do was grab a taxi and make a mad dash back to the airport. There was indeed a plane bound for Karachi, and they just managed to catch it, arriving there at 5 o’clock the next morning. The learned that a Pakistan International Airlines Viscount was leaving for Bombay within the hour, but from another airport at the other end of town. The Pan American desk clerk phoned the other airport to inquire about seats. Now a new problem arose. The only three seats available were all First class. Ram was traveling Tourist class, and as he had not expected to spend so much time en route to Bombay, he was not carrying enough cash to pay the excess fare. His two traveling companions came to the rescue. As Bombay businessmen, they were acquainted with my father, who was well known in financial circles in India. They volunteered to pay the excess, knowing that they would be reimbursed in India. There still remained the problem of crossing Karachi to get to the other airport. As Indian nationals, they would need transit visas for this unexpected trip across the Pakistani capital. There was no quick way to obtain these visas at that hour of the morning, so Ram was compelled to explain his desperate urgency to reach Bombay. The Pan American official came swiftly to the aid of the stranded bridegroom, and took personal charge of the situation. He called the other airport, reserved the three seats, and asked them to hold the plane until the delivered three VIPs! Then, leaving his assistant in charge at his desk, he smuggled them across town in his own car, at great personal risk, breaking traffic rules in his haste to get them there on time. His three passengers sat on the edges of their seats, with fingers crossed, hoping no traffic policeman would stop them for questioning! The plane was waiting on the tarmac with its engine running when the trio arrived and were hustled aboard amidst curious stares! They all heaved a sigh of relief when the plane touched down on Indian soil.
They had made it from London to Bombay, by air, in 68 hours!
Mrs. Malathi Ramji
11892 Rue De Meulles
Montreal 9, Quebec
331-3635
August 15, 1966
