Axomiya Biyah

Axomiyah Biyah

1st - 5th March, 2014

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness all rituals of a wedding from another culture right in the hometown. If it is of a very close friend, then it becomes even more special. So it became imperative that I attend the wedding of Nilutpal Hazarika in Assam. A dear friend for 15 years now, and counting. A man whom I owe a lot to my riding and to my career. We have had many experiences together, riding into newer territories(Ladakh, Spiti, Arunachal) for 2 weeks at a time, watching Formula 1 in Bahrain, exploring different pubs in Delhi-NCR and then making fools of ourselves.

I’ve always been partial to the North-East region of India. It comes with having spent a large amount of my life spent there, in Shillong and Aizawl. The people are lovely, the land is lush green, the culture is vibrant. Along with the wedding it was another opportunity to explore some new places there. There is no dearth of places to visit there. However, little did I know that I would be presented with a big responsibility immediately as I land there, but more on that later. I had just joined a new job at NIIT Technologies and taking leave so early, that too when the client was visiting, was a big hurdle. However, thanks to my manager, Shalabh, the leave was granted. I will always owe him to be so understanding. I had come very close to missing the grand event.

Gyan and I booked the tickets in early January for the 3^rd March wedding. Nilu had strongly advised to reach on 1^st March for the cocktails. Whatever Sinha saab (as Nilu is better known as) advises, we follow. Landing was scheduled for 1^st March. The time till 28th Feb was spent in deciding the drinks and food menu for the duration we would be spending there.

1st March:

Early morning on 1^st March, I left my home to catch the 9 AM flight. Gyan arrived a little later with a large, barely filled suitcase. Orders from his wife, Jayanti were to get it filled on the way back. We turned our vacation mood on. It was time for breakfast. Looking around at the expensive food court, we settled on KFC. This trip would be a meat feast throughout and we wasted no time in initiating it. After a breakfast of spicy wings and popcorns, we roamed around at the shops looking for gift items. Everything was priced way above what you can get in the market outside. I don’t understand as to why people still shop at these places and keep them in business. Maybe they don’t have the idea of the prices outside. We didn't buy any item.

The duration of the flight was boring. Gyan and I are travellers. But we don’t like travelling in a closed cabin. For a complete travel experience , you need the smell and the tastes and that is offered by motorcycles.  We tried to pass some time with Gyan teaching me some Assamese. The best I could learn was "Laahe Laahe". This became the pet dialogue throughout the trip. When we landed at Kolkata, we anxiously looked around for some of the bride’s (Mitali) friends who were supposed to join us here till Dibrugarh. All we saw were senior men and women. Surely Mitali couldn’t have had friends in that age group.

Disappointed, the next phase of the journey also passed boringly. We tried vainly to nap our way through but its not possible. Finally we landed at the groom’s hometown, Dibrugarh.

It has been our experience that Nilu is always late for pickups. So we had phoned well in advance. After the baggage was collected, we made our way out and there was no sign of Nilu. We were guessing as to which car he would arrive in. His father had a Polo but lately he had been raving on about the Swift. Perhaps he had settled on it as his future car even though it is a departure from his train of thought. He usually criticizes Marutis.

Truly guessed and the Swift arrived. Nilu was expectedly dressed in his new KTM embroidered shirt. Anjan, the official wedding photographer, also welcomed us. Gyan and I had already planned in the plane that we would openly criticize the car to no end while in the backseat. Perhaps that is why he fulfilled our demand and brought the Assam special He Man 9000 beers. 

This quieted us down somewhat. Dibrugarh was warmer than Delhi and we wasted no time in opening the bottles and taking good gulps. Today was cocktail night but the celebrations had begun prematurely. The fresh open breeze of Assam added to the flavor of the beer. What else do you need from life when you are with your dear old buddies having beer in the lush green countryside. Then Nilu dropped the bomb. Ankur Hazarika was to be his best man (or, Dora-Dhora). But Ankur had turned rogue and was himself getting married on the same day at Guwahati. So the slot of Dora-Dhora had befallen between Gyan and me.

We had arrived at Dibrugarh with the sole purpose of eating and drinking (and be merry). But this was responsibility. Both, Gyan and I were hesitant. So we just parked the thought aside and enjoyed the moment. As I would repeat now, what else do you need from life when you are with your dear old buddies having beer in the lush green countryside.

It turns out you need more friends. Two of Nilu’s IOCL colleagues, Anshuman and Ram were riding from Guwahati to meet him. They met us at the outskirts of the city. Nilu took us to Moon-phi restaurant some distance away from the city. The Dhabas in Assam are unlike any other I've seen. They are divided into cabins where you can relax and have alcohol. Sure, Gurgaon ahaatas started this way, but now they have turned too commercial. All kinds of meat are on the menu. Nilu ordered pork and duck. Some chicken was also ordered for Ram. Now began the fun session. Legs were pulled left right and center. Beer and friends gel together so well. It turned out that we had met Anshuman before during our Arunachal Ride but Gyan and I didn't recognize him. This was a true vacation. But the best was yet to come.

Cocktails were to start in the evening at 9 pm. We had 4 hours to spend. Anshuman was in no mood to ride 

so Gyan took his place. Anjan acted as the navigator. Big mistake. Anjan guided us towards Boghibeel where we could sit by the mighty Brahmaputra to enjoy a few more spells of beer. But he didn’t know the direction. So we drove for around 15 kms and then started roaming in circles. We circled around till twilight fell and then made our way back without reaching the intended destination. We will surely remember Anjan for this.

By this time the He Man beer was getting to us. Also the lack of sleep in the flight was contributing to the drowsiness. We needed to have a nap. There was still time before the cocktails. Nilu checked us in at Hotel Mona Lisa. Its one of the oldest and most prestigious hotels in Dibrugarh but now undergoing renovation. Mitali’s friends had cancelled their plans and that left us with the available rooms. Nilu dropped us off and went to look after the evening’s preparations.

We had a nap of two hours and then woke up fresh ready to drink again. Frankly, not so fresh as some of the He Man was still sloshing around. But the menu of the cocktails was something not to be missed. We refreshed ourselves and went to Nilu’s home. We met more of his buddies, Zakaria, Leon, Vikram, Moon, and his brother, Geetartha. Except for Zak, all were enthusiastic drinkers which suited us fine. The more the merrier. We were also introduced to Geetartha’s wife, Priyanka and her childhood friends, Jayshree and Rona, as well as Nilu's cousin, Sulagna. There wasn’t much to be talked right now as we were thirsting for the night’s special.

Nilu brought out the main highlight of the cocktail. Rice beer, or Haas as we came to know later on. It was served with a warning that its very potent and should be had carefully. So we gulped it down quickly. The taste was wonderful. The effects started to show a little later. Priyanka asked a simple question to Ram, “Are you drunk”? Ram made the mistake of replying bravely, “No”. Machismo can hold its place only at few places. Next thing we saw was Ram flat on his face for the rest of the night.

It must have been during this time that the decision of Dora-Dhora was made. I don’t recall much of the discussion but I tried to persuade Nilu to choose someone Assamese. At the same time, between Gyan and me, I was the bachelor. So my weightage increased. I must have thought it to be another adventure to agree quickly.

Then Nilu took me around the house meeting all the family folk and announcing his decision. I was surprised to see how easily everyone accepted. It was later I learnt that the Dora-Dhora essentially becomes the member of the family. Such ease of acceptance of a man from different culture floored me. Although his family had heard of me, but this was the first time I was meeting them. And I was welcomed with open arms. I would owe this to Nilu and his family for the rest of my life.

Priyanka’s Dad and Nilu’s Dad then started to explain to me the responsibilities of my new role. The way they described it sounded like a lot of fun. It also made me very comfortable with what I would set out to do. Nilu’s Maasi also explained to me a few things. But, the language was a major gap. I planned to seek Priyanka’s advice later. However, given her naughty nature, I would have to approach with caution.

I don’t remember when we sat down for dinner and when we finished it. The next sight I remember was standing in front of Hotel Mona Lisa in the rain. The gate was locked. Anjan managed to cross it somehow and brought the attendant to unlock it. The attendant is unsure to this day how Anjan managed to reach him through the locked gate.

Meanwhile another incident that took place here is entitled, “Consider yourself”. None of us were in a stable state. Vikram tried to play the most mature one and started grabbing everyone to control them despite him being inebriated himself. For some reason, he grabbed on to me and I snapped back at him. Leon observed all this quietly and took a backseat. In retrospect, we all remember that night in good humor. Anshuman and Ram were supported on their way up to the rooms. Everyone crashed.

2^nd March:

The next morning everyone woke up with hangover. Wait, not everyone though. Anshuman and Ram didn’t wake up at all. The plan of the day was to go for the ritual of Juroon at the bride’s house. Zak and Anjan picked us up. We all looked under-dressed in front of Zak. He was always dressed in tip-top shape.

Zak narrated another hilarious incident of last night when he drove to drop off Vikram along with Leon. The directions given by Vikram were simply ignored and Leon’s navigation led to the correct destination. It looked like we would be having much more fun in the coming days.

The ritual of Juroon involves the folks from the groom’s side present the wedding dress to the bride. Since Anjan was the official photographer, it presented us with VIP access to the place. It also gave us the opportunity of getting introduced to the bride for the first time. Gyan acted as the assistant photographer of Anjan. There were two other professional photographers on the bride’s side. It is always a funny sight to see the pose of these pros when clicking at an unusual angle. I told Gyan to capture some of these moments if it comes by.

During this time, I again started with my consultations about the following day’s rituals. Maasi decided to have fun and said that I should bring a sword and dance around the dhol as the groom entered. She also said that I’ll be left behind at the altar after the wedding and will have to hitch a ride home somehow. All taken in good humor. Everyone was having fun at my expense. Luckily, I didn’t know the language to bear the full extent of the pun. I played along.

I guess my presence may have aroused some curiosity. When the outer rituals of pooja were complete, the bride retired inside. Anjan led us in and introduced us to her. She already knew me by name. It seemed that my reputation preceded me. Its not so hard to guess too when you’re the only Sikh at an Assamese wedding, but I would stick it to my reputation.

Anjan then told her that I would be the Dora-Dhora. She was taken aback. Nilu hadn’t told her. Concerns for the bridesmaid must have also crossed her mind. This was going to be fun, after all. We had a small talk, clicked a few pics and then returned outside. First impressions were good. I dont recall exactly when but the name of the bridesmaid was also added to my knowledge, Nomita.

For the next hour, we had no idea what went on, so we went for lunch. By now the news of my role was spreading. When we stepped out, a relative of the bride warned me through Zak that I should come prepared tomorrow. Prepared for what? I don’t know. But it was vicious. As Russell Peters would say, “Somebody’s going to get hurt real bad”. This was the typical scenario he was talking about. I wasn’t much concerned about the leg-pulling. It would all be in Assamese and I wouldn’t understand any of it. It was the primary responsibility during the groom’s entrance that I was worried about. No way could I screw it up.

Meanwhile Nilu was on his curfew. The groom is not allowed to leave the house two days prior to the D-Day. No wonder grooms get cold feet. You are all alone in the house with no one to talk to and just sitting there. He had earlier messaged that a He Man provided the cure for his hangover. We took a short stroll around his house. I was fascinated by the way people kept ducks and chicken in their house. Home-grown meat. Gyan tried his hand practising an SLR that he would be buying pretty soon.

When we reached back to Nilu’s place we laughed heartily over the events of the previous night over bottles of He Man. Leon does character play quite proficiently and blew the top off everyone. Another friend of ours, Pravin Kora was on his way from Gurgaon. He had landed in Guwahati, visited his relative’s place then took the ASRTC bus to Dibrugarh. 

Tonight’s meat menu was duck. Nilu was also careful to keep some of the Haas as leftover. Anshuman and Ram had finally recovered fully by 5 pm and made their way to Nilu’s home. Ram was claiming not to drink today. That claim was quickly shattered as soon as Priyanka approached. Soon we were all in spirits again. 

Pravin arrived during this time. I had a brief training session with the girls on the responsibilities of the Dora-Dhora. All had this predatory look. Rona was the only one who kindly offered a drink. But Vodka wasn’t for me, so had to decline. I hope I did it politely. But just as I was leaving, they decided to have fun and said that I would have to wear mehendi also. Now I was starting to get worried.

The night went long this time. Up until now, Geetarth was only seen helping around the house. The guy deserved a break and I went to call him. He joined a while later. The words of Dora-Dhora are taken very seriously before the wedding. Since the quantity of Haas was limited, greediness was the call of the night. People were siphoning off each others’ quota. It was as if the effects of previous night had never taken place. One had to guard his glass with his life. Pravin kept us entertained by doing a very vulgar form of Bihu.

Then our groom got into the mood of a ride. In order to keep with the responsibilities of the Dora-Dhora, I accompanied him so that he doesn’t ride off altogether. We took a round around the city and then came back refreshed and ready to go again. In order to prevent some of the moments of yesterday repeating themselves, Anshuman and Ram were sent off early to the hotel. But not before seeing off the gang of girls.

Now remained Nilu, Gyan, Anjan, Pravin, me and Geetarth. Anjan was supposed to pick up his colleague, Adish early in the morning. But as long as alcohol was there, he would not go to sleep. Geetarth took out the prize of the night. Kalamari fish to be slow-roasted over the barbecue in the backyard. 

We had the whole night to ourselves now. It went very long. When the bottles were emptied, it was time to eat. Geetarth still played the ever-welcoming gracious host and warmed up the duck, despite well-sloshed himself. It wasn’t necessary. We could have eaten anything at that time but no amount of persuasion could stop him.

We all crashed out in the groom’s room after that.

3^rd March:

Hangover again. The D-Day cometh. The departure time of the baraat was scheduled at 8 pm. Nilu’s father dropped Gyan and me at the hotel. Geetarth would be picking us up later on for shopping. The Dora-Dhora needed to get prepared. It is a custom to dress up similar to the groom. While we waited for the pickup, the owner of the hotel, Mr. Ratan Saikia got into conversation with us. He was very enthused by the news that a Sikh would be the Dora-Dhora. He had travelled extensively throughout the country and was a professional photographer himself. A very jovial person whom I’ll remember for a very long time.

Then Geetarth and Priyanka arrived. We said goodbye to Mr. Saikia and went to the Chandni Chowk area of Dibrugarh. I have never been fond of shopping. Moreover, I had been off traditional wear for many years. And yet, here I was looking around for traditional clothes. There would be many firsts for me on this trip. Why is it that special clothes have to be uncomfortable?

The others were really enjoying seeing me in misery. To try out the slippers I had to remove my boots that have super-long laces. Gyan was only too happy to click me in uncomfortable poses and sharing the pics with our group. 

You just cant dress up a motorcyclist in silk. There was a discussion whether a black turban would be suitable or not. I reasoned with the logic that since the bigger issue of a Sikh being the Dora-Dhora has been accepted, the color of the turban should not be an issue in comparison. This was generally agreed.

Next we went looking for gifts in Sohum mall. Unknown to me at this time, a conspiracy began to brew. Priyanka asked to buy some chocolates which I promptly did. But I was made to carry them. Something fishy was going on here. Before I know it we were in front of a large green gate. Things started to become clearer as we entered Rona’s home. I presented the chocolates to her and in return, got a most wonderful gift, Roti. I’m not a big rice fan, which is the staple food in Assam. So whenever there is a chance of roti, it needs to be grabbed. So, sorry for the little conversation there Rona, but the reason was on my plate, I’m sure you’ll understand. That, and the language barrier of course. One should not expect childhood friends to converse in non-native language. While the others chatted, I quietly finished my rotis with potaoes, pickle and omelette(??) then settled it all down with delicious pudding.. I will try to make up for the lack of conversation later. So as I filled my stomach, the others kept taunting Rona. She was going to miss the wedding also due to work. That was sad.

Shopping done and we reached Nilu’s home. On the day of the wedding, the groom has to fast. So while we were roaming around his city, Nilu was sitting alone at home, hungry and thirsty. Apparently, not a good choice of friends. But now as the wedding moment loomed nearer, tensions began to mount. Gyan pointed out that both Nilu and I were equally nervous. We might need a Dhora for the Dora-Dhora himself. Dora-Dhora-Dhora.

Gyan and I reached back to the hotel briefly to prepare the supplies for the evening. Since the best man is also not supposed to have alcohol, one thing which I had planned to fully indulge in, I had to prepare myself for the evening ahead. A couple of quick shots helped. With rockets prepared for the rest of the group, we made our way back to Nilu’s home.

It was dressing-up time. All of the guys gathered. But it started with trouble. Nilu had worn my inner by mistake. We needed to get another one quick. Anjan was sent off for the rescue mission. But at the shop, Anjan calls me up and asks for Gyan. I hand over the phone to Gyan and Anjan tries to confirm the size. Why he did in that certain manner, we don’t know. Perhaps, a wedding effects all the guests in certain manner.

Now another question was raised. Who knew how to tie a dhoti? Anshuman came to the rescue. He tried on Nilu first. With some external help, it was done. Next it was my turn. I had been forewarned that the dhoti should be worn carefully so that it doesn’t slip. So, I tied the dhoti as tightly as I could until the knot burnt in my stomach. Better to have it on my stomach than on the floor.

The rituals started now. Jalpaan was offered to the groom and me, with Collective Soul playing in the background. Its sticky rice mixed with cream and jaggery. All this seemed fine until I had a view of what the other guys were offering. While I was having rice, the others were digging into pooris. Nothing had caused so much envy. Nilu, as proud as I felt to have been bestowed such an honor, right at that moment, I was fuming. Life is Hard. And Cruel. Moreover, the paparazzi wasnt helping.

The godly rituals began now. The parents blessed the groom. Then the mother tries once to stop the groom from leaving the home but eventually lets go.

The wedding party now made its way towards the bride’s home. We were forced to stop as some of the bride’s relatives indulged in merry song and dance. This went on for some time with fireworks. A major responsibility of the Dora-Dhora is to protect the groom’s slippers. Nilu took care of that responsibility as he planned with Pravin to take his slippers for safe-keeping before getting down at the venue. But as Pravin took them away, he was chased by some members of the family mistaking him as someone from the bride’s side.

Now it was time for the shock treatment. The Dora-Dhora gets down first, opens an umbrella and covers the groom’s face with it. I’m sure many were taken aback by the ethnicity of the Dora-Dhora. I heard shouts of “Yo Yo Honey Singh”. I was given the misinformation that I should keep my mouth shut else I would have retorted with “Noi, Papon”. Another comment was roughly translated, “Oh, he knows the customs too”.

I had to hide the groom’s face with the umbrella till we reached the main enclosure. So first, his feet were washed. Noticing that the groom had played smart by hiding his footwear, the girls pinched him badly on the feet. You win some, you lose some.

Now began the rice showers. This was my primary responsibility. I was supposed to protect the groom with the umbrella as rice grains were thrown from all around. I took this mission very seriously facing some direct fire myself but keeping it away from Nilu. This went on for around 5 minutes and I was instructed to bring my guard down. I had triumphed.

I got to know the translation of some of the taunts later on by Anjan. One of them was:

“Is the dora-dhora married?”

“nahi, abhi to iski lassi peene ki umar hai”

Had I known I could’ve retorted with what I drink at my age.

Now we waited for the bride. During this time, snacks were being served. Pakodas. I was again unlucky as I was not allowed to have any. I had to just sit there like a hungry dog while everyone around me was enjoying the pakodas. Not to forget, the guys would be outside enjoying their rockets.

The bride arrived on the hands of the brothers. The groom is not supposed to look at her, but our Nilu has always been a rebel. He was staring right at her. All the womenfolk howled at him. Now the religious processions began. The priest started explaining the meaning of marriage. All I could understand was the word, “ardhangini” repeated a number of times. So, in a way it was very similar to other weddings.

Then came the tug-of-war match between the two sides. I was caught in the middle for a while, but escaped unhurt. Priyanka wasn’t so lucky. She was trapped underneath the piece of cloth that was used as rope. So as the cloth went back and forth, she was also moving back and forth along with it.

As the night moved on, I was squirming on my seat. I needed food and drink. But I was not allowed to. My whole agenda had turned upside down. One of the priests’ curiosity got the better of him and asked me where I had come from. On learning that I had come from Ludhiana, he replied enthusiastically, “Ludhiana se to kapda aata hai”. All this time the bridesmaid was always out of my line of sight with the couple sitting in between. Rescue came quickly after the var-mala. We were taken inside.

Some more rituals followed with parents and relatives of the bride blessing the couple. The couple was now frequently bowing down in the feet of the relatives clearing my line of sight. At least I could have some fun now. The only familiar words I heard was “balle, balle”. The crowd must have taunted Nomita like hell. I was again lucky not to understand anything. I amused myself a bit too by taunting some of the relatives in Punjabi. Everyone took it sportingly.

Finally, my prayers were answered and I was led off to the eating area. I dug into the food. Fish and pork were on order and, lo and behold, roti. I wasn’t suffering from roti-starvation on this trip. I was joined by Pravin. Now, the priest who had asked my origin also joined us. To my amazement, he started conversing in well-versed English, a stark contrast to his previous version. Then he asks Pravin, an Oriya, “Are you from Kerala?”. This comment will keep us amused in times to come.

Now the ritual began where the bride sees off the family. Blessings are taken in the kitchen and other rooms. The bride now seeks permission of the mother to leave the home. Reluctantly, the mother agrees. Again, similar practices as in other cultures took place with the bride throwing rice grains behind her. And we drove off.

Now the home-welcoming ceremonies began. I thought I was done for the day and I went straight for the rockets. Thirst had been grappling at my throat for a long time. But then I was called back again and made to stand with Nomita as the newly-wed couple entered the house besides us. There was still some taunting to go and someone commented that the bridesmaid should now let go off the bride and go with the Dora-Dhora. She was taken aback and made a move to grab me. Then suddenly realizing held back. I felt sorry and told her, “its ok. Lets just go in”. This comment had a response, but I will keep the response secret as no one else heard what she said. This has been a burning topic with Gyan and I will not leak the secret.

The food had tightened the dhoti even more now. I went for refreshments straightaway. My responsibilities were over and I was free. I needed to celebrate. Drinks were served on top of the Swift in the field besides the house. 

So busy we got in the celebrations that we didn’t notice the brides’ party leave. I was disappointed that Nomita left without saying goodbye. But then it had been warned that once the wedding is over, the Dora-Dhora gets ignored.

Meanwhile Nilu had changed into his shorts. So while the groom was roaming around casually, I was still formally dressed and uncomfortable. My change of clothes was locked in the groom’s room and unreachable.

One more ritual remained. Some more jalpaan(sticky rice with cream and jaggery) followed between the bride, groom and me. Here we were in a ritual where the bride was fully dressed, I was fully dressed but the groom was in shorts and T-shirt. The bride touched the feet of the groom first. I could see the discomfort of this gesture on Nilu’s face. But then she touched my feet. It scared the bejesus out of me. I hope I held my cool at that time. Gifts were given. That’s it. This was the last ritual.

Anjan, Gyan, Leon, Anshuman, Ram and me returned to the hotel. But we didn’t go to sleep. Some whiskey was still left. I could finally change my clothes. Now it was boys’ time again. Anjan had a tough time removing the rice from his beehive hair. Leon started his character play again. We also came to know his middle name, Padmanav, here. Alcohol has a way of bringing out secrets. But I still had enough control not to leak the bridesmaid’s reply.

Every night, our retiring time was progressing by an hour. The first night it was 2 am, the next 3 am, it was nearly 4 am now. It seemed we wouldn’t be sleeping the next night.

4^th March:

After 3 days of madness, activities, responsibilities and hangovers, we were tired today. The time of Reception was set at 6 pm. We didn’t have any plans till then. Anshuman suddenly changed his plan and decided to ride back to Guwahati. Ram wasn’t ready till then so he was left behind. In my opinion, riders never leave anyone behind.

Gyan set out to the nearby market to look for traditional ingredients that can’t be obtained in Panipat. Ram and I joined him. But even after roaming the entire market, he didn’t find what he was looking for. No Limes, no bhotjolokhiyas, no bamboo shoots. Yes, I know enough about Assam now.

On reaching back to the hotel, we were met again by Mr. Ratan Saikia. He asked about my experience as the Dora-Dhora and whether I found a girl for myself. He also said that this must be the first Assamese wedding with a Sikh as Dora-Dhora. I imagine he must have seen many weddings in his lifetime so the claim must be true.

We consulted Leon on where to have lunch. He recommended Bandhu dhaba on the airport road. We took an auto to that spot. 

The auto driver was also entertaining. He had a big music system in his vehicle that he played out with glee. We had to ask him to lower the volume. Landing at Bandhu dhaba, He Man, duck and chicken were ordered. These were served with kela chips. This is the most fun part about the north-east. You can leisure at dhabas enjoying wonderful beer and meat. The effects of a sleepy town are so much attractive that they make you wonder why one chases the big city life anyway.

Ram had this usual behavior of refusing any alcohol he was offered. But whenever evening came and Priyanka asked him, he was at it again doing bottoms-ups. He becomes soft and gooey when asked. By this time he was well trained with us and joined in for the beer whole heartedly. As we were finishing our Pork Curry lunch, we received a call to reach the Reception venue by 5 pm. We reached back to the hotel in an auto and changed ourselves. Nilu and Mitali came to pick us up. Traditional wear always hides the real person. This time both were in semi-casuals and looked natural. This was how our Nilu usually looks like.

The Reception venue was Dutta’s Parkland Exotica, a tribute to our suave friend, Mrinaljeet Dutta. Only a few relatives were present. The seating arrangement was spare as the idea was to keep people mingling about. Pravin got busy with what he always is, food. He went into the catering section looking for food and didn’t return for an hour. A question on the outside arrangement rose when twilight fell and mosquitoes began to fill the air. But it was only for a short while. Soon, the weather was pleasant.

Gyan and I had planned to take two commitments from Mitali. One was to ride a blog on her first ride with Nilu and second, to allow Nilu to participate in the West Coast Ride. But we hadn’t even started to state our conditions, they were flatly refused. No amount of encouraging from Nilu also made her change her mind.

Not many rituals were played here. Well, apart from the alcohol. We went shopping after a while for supplies and then rarely left the side of the car in the parking. 

It was great to see drinking being seen as acceptable by every arriving guest. No one raised a brow. I loved Assam even more now. Leon was helpful in bringing snacks to the car. We had to travel back and forth in between pegs to mark our attendance at the venue. Then around 8 pm, Rona and Jay also arrived. Ram was again the scapegoat. But he earned the fruits of his hard labor when he received the numbers of all the girls. Hell, I was the Dora-Dhora and I didn’t receive anyone’s.

Gyan and I were introduced to more relatives and each one met us enthusiastically. I was already floored by the hospitality, now I was getting buried.

After most of the guests had left, it was time for our dinner. Lo and behold, roti again. My diet was very well taken care of during this trip. But the most special one was the fish wrapped in a leaf. Tender meat lightly flavored and extremely delicious.

All the eating and drinking was now taking its toll. We began to feel drowsy. Anjan, Leon, Gyan and I returned to the hotel with the leftover alcohol. We were in no mood to consume more. But we always oblige for formalities and poured one each. The arithmetic progression of our retiring times could not be followed anymore and we retired early.

5^th March

This was our departure day but there was still more hospitality to be received. Anjan invited Gyan and me to his place for brunch. We said farewell to the hotel owner, Mr. Ratan Saikia too. It had been a wonderful experience meeting him. He got into a long conversation when he learnt that Anjan was a photographer too. He invited him to see his studio some other day.

Anjan took Gyan and me one by one on his bike to his home. Brunch was immediately served. Sticky rice, pork and pickles. Now we knew where Anjan got his cooking genes from. Unfortunately, our visit had to be touch-and-go as we had to catch our flight. Moreover, we had to meet Nilu’s parents too.

The eating still wasn’t finished. Nilu’s mother brought out jalpaan. By now we were bursting, with a long and boring flight ahead of us. We said goodbyes to Geetarth and Priyanka. Nilu and Mitali dropped us off at the airport. Goodbyes were exchanged to meet yet again. It would be a different scenario the next time we all meet though.

And we made our way back to Delhi airport with the post-vacation depression. I had to report to office immediately on the evening that day. Being a new job, I couldn’t take the risk of extending my vacation. So ended another unique experience for me. It had been an extremely honorable time for me which I would relish for the rest of my life. I am really fortunate to have such friends and then made new ones too. 

Ki Khobor?