My First Punjabi Wedding (in photos)

The drive to the wedding in Sukkar Chak took about 10 hours, although we were only 5 hours from Chandigarh where we departed. Along the way, we picked up other friends and stopped at different family homes to say hello, with a hot cup of chai and jalebi waiting for us at every door. With the endless milky masala tea and extra long drive, my first impressions of Punjab were the most classic: incredible hospitality in a very rural state. Punjab is all fields of buffalo and mustard seed, spotted with dusty towns.
The drive to the wedding in Sukkar Chak took about 10 hours, although we were only 5 hours from Chandigarh where we departed. Along the way, we picked up other friends and stopped at different family homes to say hello, with a hot cup of chai and jalebi waiting for us at every door. With the endless milky masala tea and extra long drive, my first impressions of Punjab were the most classic: incredible hospitality in a very rural state. Punjab is all fields of buffalo and mustard seed, spotted with dusty towns.
On the first full day of our trip, at 6:30 am, we woke to the sounds of the village: tractors, buffalo, honking. Again, chai somehow appeared in our room and we drank sleepily on the floor. The lineup for the bathroom lasted until about 8:30 am (there was only one (squatting style) toilet and one shower for the 25+ people who were staying at the house). Eventually, we changed into colourful wedding outfit #1 (I was told to bring four at least) and went downstairs. Today it was the mehendi and water procession festivities. We were ushered to the pink tent erected in the field next door for a massive buffet lunch and more bhangra dancing.
On the first full day of our trip, at 6:30 am, we woke to the sounds of the village: tractors, buffalo, honking. Again, chai somehow appeared in our room and we drank sleepily on the floor. The lineup for the bathroom lasted until about 8:30 am (there was only one (squatting style) toilet and one shower for the 25+ people who were staying at the house). Eventually, we changed into colourful wedding outfit #1 (I was told to bring four at least) and went downstairs. Today it was the mehendi and water procession festivities. We were ushered to the pink tent erected in the field next door for a massive buffet lunch and more bhangra dancing.
The best friends of the groom who invited us to join the celebrations in Punjab.
The best friends of the groom who invited us to join the celebrations in Punjab.
After lunch was the water procession and the tumeric bath. The procession began in the field with the water carried in decorated jugs on the heads of the women, who led the village through the mustard oil plants, down the main road to the gurdwara (where the water was blessed) and then home again.  The women sang as drummers harmonized along with them. This was my absolute favourite ceremony of the weekend. The late afternoon sun, the hum of the voices and beat of the drum intoxicated the paraders.
After lunch was the water procession and the tumeric bath. The procession began in the field with the water carried in decorated jugs on the heads of the women, who led the village through the mustard oil plants, down the main road to the gurdwara (where the water was blessed) and then home again.  The women sang as drummers harmonized along with them. This was my absolute favourite ceremony of the weekend. The late afternoon sun, the hum of the voices and beat of the drum intoxicated the paraders.
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I was warmly welcomed to join in the festivities and dance at every opportunity.
I was warmly welcomed to join in the festivities and dance at every opportunity.
The third day was the actual wedding, a ceremony made up of multiple ceremonies. At 7 am, we woke with a start: a brassy, loud, not very talented marching band of seven men with dusty costumes and old instruments played downstairs at the gate, as is tradition in many Indian weddings.
The third day was the actual wedding, a ceremony made up of multiple ceremonies. At 7 am, we woke with a start: a brassy, loud, not very talented marching band of seven men with dusty costumes and old instruments played downstairs at the gate, as is tradition in many Indian weddings.
We were told to get dressed quickly because it was time to send the groom off - the bharat. Quickly we dressed in our most Punjabi suits and headed downstairs. The chalky marching band led us out onto the street where a white horse in colourful carnival gear waited to carry the groom to the gurdwara.
We were told to get dressed quickly because it was time to send the groom off – the bharat. Quickly we dressed in our most Punjabi suits and headed downstairs. The chalky marching band led us out onto the street where a white horse in colourful carnival gear waited to carry the groom to the gurdwara.
We all paraded down the street – probably our fifth time doing so in the three days – and the groom performed a series of rituals inside and outside the gurdwara, including slicing a branch with his red sword and jumping on a few small clay pots that his aunties quickly collected as they shrieked in a tone that sounded both like delight and prayer. The singing and drumming never stopped throughout this whole time. Jaimal and I watched and were watched with equal fascination. The newlyweds were Ravisassi, a sect of Sikhism that has recently branched off into its own religion that incorporates some very different rituals than more orthodox Sikhism.
We all paraded down the street – probably our fifth time doing so in the three days – and the groom performed a series of rituals inside and outside the gurdwara, including slicing a branch with his red sword and jumping on a few small clay pots that his aunties quickly collected as they shrieked in a tone that sounded both like delight and prayer. The singing and drumming never stopped throughout this whole time. Jaimal and I watched and were watched with equal fascination. The newlyweds were Ravisassi, a sect of Sikhism that has recently branched off into its own religion that incorporates some very different rituals than more orthodox Sikhism.
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Soon after, we drove to the bride’s village just a kilometer away where a giant red and yellow tent had been erected in the field. Now we did what you do best at Punjabi weddings: we ate. Plates and plates and plates of samosas, pakoras, other fried Indian goodies whose names I do not know, cake, fruit, lassi, pop, milkshakes, and coffee kept arriving at our table, until someone decided we had to start the dance party.
Soon after, we drove to the bride’s village just a kilometer away where a giant red and yellow tent had been erected in the field. Now we did what you do best at Punjabi weddings: we ate. Plates and plates and plates of samosas, pakoras, other fried Indian goodies whose names I do not know, cake, fruit, lassi, pop, milkshakes, and coffee kept arriving at our table, until someone decided we had to start the dance party.
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The pots and ladles required to cook for 100s of guests on a never-ending schedule.
The pots and ladles required to cook for 100s of guests on a never-ending schedule.
With another long drive ahead of us, we managed to sneak away from the dance floor. We congratulated the pair, took photos, and hugged the families. The six of us headed off, packed like sardines in our fancy Punjabi wedding gear, exhausted and full and happy.
With another long drive ahead of us, we managed to sneak away from the dance floor. We congratulated the pair, took photos, and hugged the families. The six of us headed off, packed like sardines in our fancy Punjabi wedding gear, exhausted and full and happy.
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Living in India, I saw a lot of sights (and smelled a lot of smells) that will stay with me forever. Now back in Canada, I’m often asked, “So, how was India?” I can only shake my head in retrospective awe. India is impossible to summarize. I believe this is why there are so many travel memoirs written about the country; you need at least 300 pages to even begin to explain. But when people ask if anything stands out, I immediately have an answer: my first Punjabi wedding.

Indian weddings are generally explosions of glitter and pink and ladoos

You’ve probably heard about the colour and pop of Indian weddings. In contrast to the white dresses and formality of western nuptials, Indian weddings are generally explosions of glitter and pink and ladoos. Punjabi weddings certainly hold true to this form and, some may say, go even further. My fiancé Jaimal being half Punjabi himself, I have had to study these traditions in preparation for our own wedding celebration!

In February, Jaimal and I were invited to a wedding in rural Punjab by a new friend of ours Jassi. Her bud Baldev was getting married in the village where he grew up and, in true Indian fashion, everybody was invited. The photo essay above details the three days of the 10 day event (!) that we attended in the small village of Sukkar Chak, 12 km from the border of Pakistan. While each hour of our visit produced a story unique and worth telling, these photos summarize the wondrous experience. Click on the images for snippets of what we were part of that weekend.

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Coconut Oil Saved My Curls

Moving to India brought about a lot of changes to my daily routine. I commuted to work in a rickshaw. I bought my groceries in a bustling market where I haggled for my bananas and papaya. Cows regularly cut me off on the road. I ate some form of lentil pretty much every day. I knew these kinds of shifts would happen before the move, but I didn’t predict the changes to the one thing that probably impacts my day the most: my curls.

I can’t pin down exactly what made the greatest difference  – the heat, the humidity, the dust in the air, the hard water – but my curls exploded in India. I spent the first 5 months looking like a poodle in the Amazon. And not only was it frizzy and massive, my hair was more knotted than it’s ever. Within a day or two of washing it, my curls seemed to fuse together and I would curse throughout my shower.

So in order to tame it, I went through my tried-and-tested curly products from home like wildfire. I arrived in India in November 2015 and by the end of the year, my tubs and tubes were empty. To be frank, even those didn’t help me much. And I couldn’t buy any more Deva Curl or Kinky Custard or Mixed Chicks Leave-In Conditioner anywhere there. So I searched beauty salons and pharmacies looking for an answer. Nothing worked.

When I moved to Bombay in February (I started out in Delhi for the first three months), my friend here recommended something I hadn’t yet tried: coconut oil. Indian women have sworn by hair oils for ages, especially coconut and olive oil. Almost all hair salons in India offer an oil treatment and judging by the shiny, thick locks I was surrounded by, I thought I’d give one a try.

I quickly learned that an oil treatment is more like a head and scalp massage with moisturizing oils. Not a bad start! I arrived at the salon and Surendra ushered me to my seat. He had brought with him a small bowl of coconut oil the size of my palm with one inch of depth. I looked at it and chuckled to myself. He has no idea what he’s dealing with.

My hair was tied up at that point. I decided I had better let him see what he’s in store for. Upon letting my curls loose, the poor Surendra squealed out a yelp. Oh dear, I thought. He looked at the little bowl of oil and then at my head again. We were speaking in one or two words of Hinglish (Hindi and English), so I didn’t know exactly what he was thinking. But he seemed to decide we’d start with the small bowl. Optimistic, I thought.

An oil massage begins with the application of oil to dry hair, starting at the scalp and roots. Surendra struggled (and then eventually ripped) my hair into parts and began to apply the coconut oil from the small bowl, bit by bit.

He hadn’t even finished the left corner of my head and the bowl was empty. Even funnier, the oil had disappeared on my head. You couldn’t tell that my curls had seen anything applied. It looked dry and normal. Now Surendra saw what I knew was coming. He stepped away for a second and came back with pretty much the whole tub of coconut oil. Ok, I thought, now we’re talking.

Surendra continued to apply the oil until my scalp was covered and began massaging my head and neck. Hair benefits aside, the treatment is worth it just for this.  Sooo good. After an hour of the massage, he pulled my hair back into a slick ponytail and suggested I keep it in for a few more hours then wash thoroughly. Now totally relaxed and smelling tropical, I headed out the door. Even with a massive amount of oil in my hair, I still didn’t look like a had a massive amount of oil in my hair. I was surprised he didn’t apply it to the rest of my strands as well, but I figured this was the way they do it, so I’ll try it this way. He told me to come back in 3-4 weeks for my next treatment.

After washing and air drying, I noticed an immediate difference to the texture: my curls were softer and less frizzy. My hair still wasn’t as tamed as I hoped, but I was very pleased nonetheless.

However, after a day or two, my frizz returned and so did the knots. I only went back to see him a few weeks later, taking his advice a bit literally. The second time was just as relaxing and the results were still great, but the effect was still not quite enough.

So I decided to start applying oil on my own in the shower. Sometimes I’d use it as a leave-in and sometimes as a mask that I’d leave in for hours and then wash out. I would use it every day or every other day depending on my hair’s condition and where I would be travelling to. I also used it on my roots and my ends, which I needed desperately. Now with consistent use, I could see a remarkable difference. No frizz, soft and light, shiny, no knots. Finally!

I’ve been using coconut oil regularly for a few months now and I’m officially a convert. Many curlies have been recommending it and using coconut oil for ages all over the world, but I didn’t give it a go until India. I can fully appreciate why so many people swear by it, especially after five months of fighting with my hair without any tools.

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Immediately post-oil treatment – shiny and fresh!

I used the Nutriva Extra Virgin Coconut Oil – the same one you can use for cooking, teeth pulling, on your skin etc. Nothing special about it (some oils say they’re made especially for hair but I don’t think this really makes a difference). I also have a little spritz bottle of coconut oil that I use when travelling or to touch up in between washes to tame frizz and give a nice shine (I am tempted to bring this little bottle in my purse even because it is SO useful, but I don’t because I’m afraid of spills).

I’ve heard great things about avocado oil and olive oil but have yet to try them out. Personally, I love the smell and consistency of coconut oil and its multipurpose personality (body moisturizer, lip balm, etc.), so I think I’ve found my match. And I’m never letting go!

What other oils have you used? Any other natural curly hair products you recommend? Leave a comment and let us know!

 

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