Sari for the inconvenience

So it was a friend's wedding dinner last weekend and I decided to wear a sari. It was the first time after the wedding (and the subsequent celebrations) that I was wearing a sari.

My tryst with the sari started on a serious level a few days before my wedding, when I did a few practice rounds to ensure I wouldn't stumble and fall at the mandap. Once I got the hang of it, I decided to put myself through the ultimate test - to go shopping in a sari! Success!

By the wedding day, I was a pro at wearing a sari in five minutes flat and keeping it on in the exact state for a couple of hours. But my worst sari ordeal was the one I faced right after the wedding. And when I say right after the wedding, I really mean right after the wedding, like an hour! We had to go to the marriage registration office and get registered because we were leaving the next day and there were a few procedures to be completed before we could get the certificate, such as going to the studio and getting the wedding photo to submit for the registration. So here I was, 35 kg excess - in my sari, red & gold dupatta and gold jewellery, running across the crazy streets of Cuttack from one office to another with Viv, his dad, my cousin and my extremely adventurous Singaporean friend Starbreez who - high on Indian food - had clearly gone out of her mind and decided to accompany us to the many government offices that we had to run to.

On the roads, I got stared at like anything, cos the sight we presented was clearly a case of one of the following:

1. Girl running away from her own wedding
2. Guy and girl running away to get married
3. Shooting of some stupid TV serial

Now and then I'd pause to check that all my jewellery had not fallen off. I realised that I should have left some of it behind (I'd still look like a bride in the studio photo without six of the seven gold necklaces, wouldn't I?) but it was too late to be thinking about it. Luckily, all the practice I'd had held me well as I dashed across the roads weaving in and out of the traffic like a sari-wearing superhero. In fact, if there was a sari marathon, I think I'd be a strong contender! Provided of course, all moms and aunts are ineligible to enter.

After going back and forth between the same offices (government offices in India... sigh...) we were finally done. My worst sari ordeal was over and we were back in the car and heading home, armed with the marriage certificate. The jewellery was driving me nuts by then, and I took off some and passed them to Starbreez, who cleverly hid them in a secret pocket in her - guess what? - hat, of all things! So we went home, me in a sari and Starbreez with a load of gold perched on her head. If I wasn't a new bride, I'd have laughed my lungs out.

I jumped into the shower as soon as I reached my room, so I could get ready for part 2 of the wedding - the reception. My reception sari was even heavier with all the gold embroidery, but luckily all I had to do was stand there and join my hands to greet the hundreds of people I'd never seen in my life before. What a contrast to the daytime drama. Sari-superheroine by day, demure bride by night. Those who watch 'Goodness Gracious Me' would know why I'm ROFLing at the thought.

And I paused to think about the sari and all the troubles and inconveniences associated with it. There is so much thinking and logistics that go into what you thought was a mere 5.5-metre piece of cloth! First, it needs two other pieces of clothing of the exact same colour in order to be worn. Oh oh, almost forgot the sari 'fall' that needs to be stitched on to the sari before you can wear it. Not to mention that bangles and bindi must also be readily available otherwise it's no good. It is expensive, heavy and difficult to fold. Then there are the pleats, which can't be done perfectly without having another person around. Then there's the anchal, and you just don't know what to do with it. If you pin it all up on your shoulder a la Indian Airlines airhostess, you're safe. But if you don't have fab abs, you may want to avoid that, and rest one edge of the anchal on your left arm, in which case your anchal can't be its usual length, because you would just trip and fall. Worse, if it your sari is not chiffon or other such clingy material, you also have to watch out for unintentional poofing up of certain parts of the sari, giving you a very pregnant look, which somehow gets magnified in photographs! Going to the toilet can be a problem, even if you tell yourself that it's just a long skirt. The after toilet-look of the sari can be quite Victorian. Then there are the safety-pins which are absolutely essential if you want to preserve your dignity. I personally use at least four pins to secure my sari. Then there's all the thinking you need to do if you decide to wear it to parties and other fancy occasions after your wedding. Now that I am married, will everyone think I'm the gharelu type if I turn up in a sari?

Fortunately for me, I do not have any such doubts.

To me, a sari is the most gorgeous outfit in the world, and in spite of everything, it's totally worth it. :)