Actually, it’s called Mock Shaadi. Shaadi is Urdu for wedding, Urdu is the language of Pakistan.
“Wait what?”
That was my response when my 19-year old granddaughter Laila, a freshman in college said, “So tomorrow my friends and I are going to a Mock Shaadi.
“Wait what?”
I had heard of mock trials, mock courts, mock whatever, but a mock wedding!
She explained, getting more animated by the minute.
“You see, the college has this Pakistani Students Association. They have a program called Hungama. Every semester, NYU and Columbia hold a mock wedding event. For tomorrow’s event, they picked the bride from Columbia, and the groom from NYU. All the students will get dressed up in traditional Pakistani wedding outfits and have a reception, with the rituals, music, dancing, food, and all.”
“Where is the reception?”
“At Columbia library. Actually, it is so popular that colleges across the country are doing it. University of Maryland also has a huge mock shaadi tomorrow.”
“Do you have a desi dress for this?” Desi is the term used to describe anything Pakistani/Indian/Bangladesi, as in desi food, desi dress, desi decor….
“Yeah. I brought it from home.”
“O.K. I am going to blog about this. I will call you the morning after and get the scoop. Take photos.”
Readers, don’t think for a moment that I would be violating privacy. Mock Shaadi is all over social media: Instagram, YouTube, Facebook, and regular media too. Why should newspapers be left behind.
I must have been more excited than her. Sure enough, the next morning I called her.
“So how was it?”
“It was fun. The notice said that we should arrive at 5:00 pm and no later than 5:15 pm because the doors will close. So we arrived on time, and there was hardly anyone there. Students started arriving around 5:45. The library is beautiful. It’s architecture, with the pillars and ceilings is gorgeous. They had the room lit up in purple and blue lighting, purple for NYU, blue for Columbia. Then from the outside came a loud sound of a dhol beating. [dhol is an oversized drum that hangs over the shoulder.] The president of both the PSAs announced, ‘The baraat is arriving. Everyone go out to greet them.’ I didn’t even know what a baraat was.”
“It’s the groom’s wedding party procession.”
”Yeah. Now I know.”
“OMG! You won’t believe what we saw. The groom was arriving on a horse.”
“Really? Wow! You know that before people had cars, the baraat arrived on foot, walking up the street, beating the dhol, with the groom in the midst riding on a horse. Even the horse was dressed up for the wedding. People would come out of their houses and clap as the baraat proceeded.”
“I didn’t know that. So the baraat party walked up the library stairs and entered the hall. Everyone was dressed up in desi clothes. But they forgot about the groom, and he was left behind sitting on the horse.”
I burst out laughing.
“I suppose he didn’t know how to get off the horse.”
“Probably not. But eventually he arrived and sat on the stage.”
“What was he wearing?”
“A white shalwar kameez. They served samosas for appetizers which were really good. Then 30 minutes later the music played O’ rey piya and bride was escorted in, walking under the canopy with the dupatta draped over her head.”
When Laila was five, I used to play O’ rey piya while she sat in the car seat at the back as I drove her back and forth to the wherever we were going. We would sing along. Awww! She remembered the song. Or maybe she has been hearing it at other weddings—real weddings. But it felt good to hear her mention the desi song. Don’t we all want our future generations to hold on to a piece of the tradition, even if it is just O’ rey piya.
“Was the bride all dressed up in the traditional wedding dress with the desi jewelry?”
“She wore a white lehenga [gown], the bridal jewelry and mehndi on her hands. [henna].
“Did she wear a tikka, you know, the pendant on her forehead?”
“She did.”
“What happened then? Was there a wedding ceremony?”
“No, but then there was music and dance, dinner, and they even had a few rituals.”
“Which rituals?”
“They fed each other mithai [Pakistani sweets] and had the joota chupai.”
Readers, joota chupai [hide the shoe] is a ritual where the ladies pull off groom’s shoe and then negotiate the ransom, which he pays for dearly—in cash.
“OMG! Did the groom pay the ladies to buy back his shoe?”
“I don’t know. The stage was far and was too crowded. I didn’t get to see. But then a dance group from Columbia and Yale put up a show and it was phenomenal.”
“What did they serve for dinner?”
“Vegetable biryani, butter chicken, chaat, kheer….” And she went on with the list.
“Who pays for this?”
“I have no idea.”
“Could you tell if the mock bride and groom even knew each other?”
“I don’t think they knew one another. It was really fun.”
“Send me photos.”
She did.
I wanted more. So I went on Instagram and here is what I found:
Pakistani Students Association @nyu.psa
There it was, the flyer for the Hungama Mock Shaadi. A bright red poster, bride in glittering silver dupatta with silver flowers on her red lehenga and men in shalwar qameez. If you are looking it up as I speak (or write), notice the turbaned man with the dhol on the left. There was also a picture introducing the mock bride and groom, and photos of the six Mock Shaadi Subcommittee members. My goodness, they are serious about this. And why not. If there is anything Pakistanis know, it’s how to party—in full sparkling regalia. Give them an opportunity to get dressed up to the umpteenth degree, and they will take it.
I googled. Up popped up a news report in Pitt News, a Pittsburg publication. Don’t pass up the opportunity to click here PSA’s annual Mock Shaadi helps cultivate Desi community and watch the mock couple cut the wedding cake. What a celebration of tradition and culture! So what if the wedding is not real; the culture is.
I then went on YouTube. This you must watch: Highlights of the party of PSA at University of Buffalo. Scroll down the page and there is George Mason University; and OMG, even London has gotten the mock bug. Check out Facebook, and you got Ohio, UMass, Binghamton, Cornell.
I love it. What a way to celebrate and introduce one’s culture; or in the case of my Laila, her grandparent’s culture of the Old Country.
But hey, Young Ones! Listen. There is one cultural practice that Y’all need to leave behind. Please, show up on time. 5:00 pm means 5:00 pm.
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