A Rural Asian Wedding Travelogue, Culture and Communities, India, Santhal Tribe, Short Stories, West Bengal
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One Bengali Monsoon Wedding and a Rare Feast –III

After I experienced the most dramatic Orchestra by the Frogs and Company, drunk Kaushik later that night told me to rethink leaving for home instead consider this as a mystical invitation for a tribal wedding that he will be attending later that week.

I was already on an extended journey here in Bengal, but incessant downpour set me up for long at Kaushik’s home in Jhargram.

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During one of those rainy nights Kaushik received a phone call, where his friend invited him a day prior to his sister’s wedding . I got excited and we decided to leave, with a condition. His friend asked us to reach by the daylight.

We started from his home on time, but rain and bad roads took whole day to reach that place from where we had to take the last jeep for the wedding home to his friend’s village. It was a strange place. There were many people but I felt there was no one talking. Like at any crossroad in the world, people were walking, buying things, standing, staring, smoking their tobacco but still the whole aura had an abnormally quietness to it.

Across the road In front of me, stood three elderlies, they looked like a copy of the other, exactly same and must have been sisters. All sitting outside their big, arched door home; they should be over sixty, and their seemingly never cut long hair reached their ankles, where their skirts ended. Meanwhile one amongst them stood and started writing something on the outer wall. That whole front was filled with Bengali letters. They didn’t look like normal elderly’s for sure. And I just couldn’t look anywhere else but them. I should have gathered courage to walk up to them but it was the time and Kaushik’s panic that held me to mere observing them from far.

Kaushik cried out loud, asking me to get our bags as he had found probably the very last jeep after the last one had gone before we had arrived. It was late. I had forgotten what kaushik’s friend had advised until inside the car, the driver’s help sitting beside cautioned hiding anything expensive in our bags including our watch. There was a particular place in the journey, they talked among themselves, where the so called dacoits used to stop the cars, buses and loot people. In some cases if you come as offensive they might even shoot you. Kaushik took my camera and hid it, and we all in our bodies started waiting for it to come.

The jeep moved through the dark jungle alone, inside we were anxious, silent. Throughout the journey, the road had no lights, there were no junctions, stopping points, not even homes or huts; rather the only thing that the locals sitting in the car were most concerned about was that there was not a single vehicle that had come from the opposite direction, there must be something horribly wrong! Anxiously under our fainting breath, we all waited. And suddenly one cried out loud in exasperation, it is about to come! see that curve; the others asked the driver to not stop, driver held his pace, faster than average, the big trunks of the trees where the car’s light fell, on either side, were covered by impenetrable bushes, the curve arrived sharply. as the road turned left and someone yelled out loud that there is no fallen tree on the road, means no probable blockage, and we might just pass. In utter anxiousness all hell broke loose inside the car when nothing happened and we passed that place. Personally it was a tense time carrying low stomach pangs as I had never imagined such a thing still happens.

At last we reached Kaushik’s friends place. It was late in the night and I preferred to sleep. Kaushik and his friend decided to go upstairs, with McDowell, that he really wanted to gulp all down after today’s experience.

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Morning arrived within no time. Even before I could sit up and stretch my arms on my bed sat two pretty ladies with breakfast. It included white rice dipped in mustard oil, four Rasgulla’s and a full-formed fish. I couldn’t even stare at my breakfast long enough; probably I was still in sleep. I think they felt bad when I told them I cannot eat it, likewise they were astonished to learn that I don’t eat fish; How is it possible? It’s just a fish! It is a water fruit! It’s not even a non-vegetarian dish! That morning I couldn’t be more thankful to Kaushik when he came to my rescue.

Evening arrived, and we left for the wedding. It was further deep in the village. Kaushik took his friend’s bike. I sat behind looking and praising the beauty all over, I was so intrigued that my eyes kept going back only to the red earth. Soil like this, as far as you can see was red, it was unreal. Laal Maat(red clay) as they called it.

We had reached early. The sun was setting, and people have only started to arrive now. The bulbs were set up and soon came into being. As night slowly crawled over the light, night creatures of all sizes and forms in tens, hundreds and thousands started hovering around the yellow bulbs. Some were very creepy, some big and few even could be seen carrying eyes. They were all over, so much so that they seemed to outnumber any other moving being. May be because it was humid as it hadn’t rained for past few days.

Not far, women had started gathering, forming a circle. It was that time when there was no DJ, neither there was any music. Instead women in numbers kept joining the circle, singing, making sounds from their mouth as they do in Bengali weddings. They were performing their local dance and with each beat they moved two steps ahead, one step back. And it went on, in between women kept coming and leaving.

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Away from the dance, few men carried extra large utensils. Five big round steel containers were placed under five isolated bulbs. They were half filled with water. Soon two men brought a big piece of cloth, a little bigger than an average towel, positioned themselves and started hitting the flapping, fluttering, flying insects around the yellow filament bulb in such a way that insects started falling into the tub. Taking turns, men and children went on bringing them down for about an hour till the container was brimming with all kind of fruit flies, moths, grasshoppers, ladybugs and the likes; many died on their way, some drowning under the weight of others or with mere water touch, and many broken from the uncalled torture; still many were moving with a wing or two ripped apart, trying to evade what they cannot.

I stood far and quiet, looking at this metaphorical dream, cold-blooded mutilation of sorts; of course it was kind of overwhelming to see this happening. Soon two people started swirling the water, creating a whirlpool, squishing-mashing the insects, mixing them well with the liquid. They kept revolving and reversing the water till it changed its colour to something close to dark brown. By now, the liquid had also become thick. It was time to filter the water away from whatever remained of insects.

The remaining brown water had been boiling for over an hour. Later Some potatoes and lot of garlic was added. While the separated parts of insects were put up for drying in front of table fans before they were taken for grinding. With lots of spices added to the grinder, standing there, astonished I could not imagine its source. It then put on a big frying pan to roast. The whole process was so smooth that it felt its an old practice or a meal for the guests of the once flying uninvited guests. And looking at the transformation of once small happy beings into tiny, grain like talc mixed with spicy particles, it strangely started to appear very healthy.

With blood water almost ready, numerous people were seen getting into a line to taste this delicacy, some went back to catch more and I, well I don’t think I ate anything at all in that wedding. My hunger had died many deaths.

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Post wedding, I left for Howrah Railway Station. At last it was time to bid my dearest friend bye. Kaushik came all the way to drop me at the Howrah Junction. And I at last escaped the remaining rains.


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Road To Nara by Narayan Kaudinya

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Unknown's avatar

Hi, I am Narayan Kaudinya. And i welcome you on this journey, the Road to Nara ! I am an Ethnographer and a practicing Indologist. I did my masters in History and further learnt Sanskrit, Yoga and Nerve-therapy. At 24, pushing most academic sounding, office sitting works away, i felt compelled to know and understand the world and my country, Bharat/India. I travelled, and as it happened i took up teaching in Kashmir and further up in the remote villages of Baltistan in the foothills of Karakoram Ranges. For around three years and many states later there came a time when i felt that it was only while teaching i learnt how to laugh, to see, feel, breathe, love and cry -with children, and mostly resource-less parents in the harshest-freezing border conditions. I write, and work as a documentary photographer and Filmmaker, with numerous published, exhibited and some awarded stories. In my travels and life i have let nature lead me, the divine mother, and as a Yogin, my resolve here is to share my experiences and thoughts as honestly, and through them to blossom in everyone the power and possibility in pursuing your breath, that you seek your true nature with courage and curiosity. Here, on this road i will share my spirit, my love for nature, the elements of life that are us. And in doing so, i'll be happy to see you along.

85 Comments

  1. Lakshmi Bhat's avatar

    Oh my God, a different experience, I too wouldn’t have eaten anything. One country and each place so different. Thank you for sharing.

    Like

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      Haha. With the accuracy and professionalism they performed this feat, i am sure they must be having lot more than eyes saw.
      But Somewhere now, i think the feast took all eyes, over shadowing the whole journey!

      Like

  2. Aushi's avatar

    It appears Not so normal wedding experience and the food😨, anyways, experience do teach us a lot many things 😊😊😊😊👍very well written 👍👍👍& congrats!💐 You are nominated by me for the Ideal Inspiration Blogger Award, do have a look 😊😊

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Rebecca Wallick's avatar

    I was hoping for a photo of the three elderly women!

    I follow your blog to experience – through your eyes and words – cultures different from my own. You never disappoint. Thank you.

    Like

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      You know Rebecca for many months i kept telling myself that i will go back, may be rent a place for a week or two to find out about them. I loved the idea of exploring and writing in and about that town, but now may be a new town, a new village, newer minds wait.

      I would like, that you take a dip so deep here, to never even think of any disappointments. My regards and love to you and your beautiful wild family 🙂

      Like

  4. Dolly Vas's avatar

    Sir , I read and enjoyed it, it is amazing. You suffered a lot with hunger and at last you got insect soup. 🤗 the way you did the humanization of frogs that is awsm and I think this blog is a perfect place for reading such adorable things. 👌🙏

    Like

  5. forresting365's avatar

    This is absolutely fascinating!!! I particularly love the women keeping the song going by arriving and departing to/from the circle….amazing. Also…the insects being harvested into the tubs and the soup that was made from it…wow. Your sentence, “My hunger died many deaths.” is brilliant! Thank You for all of this. You’re a wonderful writer/traveler!!! Cheers! 😊

    Liked by 1 person

  6. anne leueen's avatar

    Wonderful photos that are so evocative of the places and the experience. Travel can sometimes provide us with untold drama and we go through a range or emotions that we would never experience if we were safe and settled at home.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      Thank you coming over here Anne. And for these words that now rest here.

      Travels if done in awareness and with a focus towards serving, being in harmony with the environment- there can be no better education for a human.

      Like

  7. Sandy's avatar

    Evocative reading. I wasn’t expecting the insect soup. In theory, it sounds splendid and an efficient way to get protein. In reality, I’d have a hard time tasting it but I am glad to have read about it. I can just imagine the towel dance !

    Liked by 1 person

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      haha. Even i wasn’t expecting seeing it, leave having it altogether. and well, the dance was very measured and meticulous 🙂 Thanks Sandyl for coming over though, and having your words. Pleasure.

      Like

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      Priscilla, happy to have you here again after some time. Just yesterday someone narrated me a horror story and i felt it is one of the most daring directions a writer explores.
      Tell me Priscilla, would you consider Stephen King as a horror writer ?
      But Anyways, Thank you so much.

      Like

  8. Ankur Mithal's avatar

    Quite an adventure! Recently had read a book set in Nigeria in which there was a scene with lots of flying insects after some rain, and kids go around catching them in nets and taking them to their moms to fry and eat. Did not realise there are similar practices in some parts of India.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. chattykerry's avatar

    How wonderful to participate in such a unique wedding – even if there was fish for breakfast… We went to a Bedouin wedding in Cairo when we lived there. I ate a little of the meat but I don’t know what animal had provided it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      Thank you Monica. Bengal of that time, a decade ago i am talking about was as fascinating, quiet and magic to tell you. Thank you so much. These images are close to me too.

      Thank you again
      Nara x

      Like

  10. swamiyesudas's avatar

    Hello, Narayan! Very interesting n v well written. Kudos.

    The Dance You describe is More ‘Adivasi’ than Bengali. But the Mustard oil, Chapati are Not Adivasi. Santhali n Bengali are akin. Were You in those borderlands? Santals/Adivasis are more Bow n Arrow, Small Axe kind of people. I have lived in the Bhagalpur diocese, a Santal area for 50 months. Santals do not carry guns, n further, they are a timid lot. Yet We did have to go past what were Openly known as Chor/Dakait (Thieves n Robber) villages, Not Santals.

    You see that Your post intrigues me. …Went searching for Nara, and Google took me to Gujrat! From Your photos, the men are not Santals. Would be interested in knowing the location of that village.

    Bef I conclude, let me ask You to use some Bigger fonts n smaller paragraphs for Old eyes like mine! 🙂

    Like

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      Hello Swamiji, such a wonderful, happy gift arrived in the form of your words, made me imagine what could have lead you here!

      it even took me back to the lane of memory, like yourself when you talk of staying in the tribes for over 4 years.

      This was in 2008, when i was visiting a Santhali friend’s home who have grown out of their community and were living in Jhargram. He then took me to the most beautiful travels, to his friends and relatives living in the deeper reaches, touching the tribes, as you rightly pointed out they were timid, i experienced the same, in Purulia, Jhalida and some villages which were completely tribal in nature.

      It was also a time of change, when i felt intruding in their lives with my camera hence made photographs very cautiously.

      The photos you see are of common bengali men mostly, as i lost a big part of my work there to not friendly hard disk.

      Thank you for coming over, for your words, carefully writing your experience, your time here.

      Narayan x

      Liked by 1 person

    • Narayan Kaudinya's avatar

      Also let me introduce you to something you might really feel one with, being an ancient traveller yourself, knowing, learning the old Indian ways. I share with you my two posts which i am certain you would like to delve into

      first is the first post which i thought is a must for myself to write, my understandings, my principles and my experiences, here :

      https://road-to-nara.com/2020/04/22/yogi-guide-to-magic-world/

      And the second is something you might also love as i am on a journey right now and its coming down to the final chapter this Saturday.

      I will be sharing with you the second chapter that shall take you to the most beautiful landscapes our country has, and from there you might like and see whatever you would love, sharing it here :

      https://road-to-nara.com/2021/07/15/life-and-nothing-more-ii/

      Like

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