Rain On Your Wedding Day

Jahan fanned himself with a newspaper he found lying on a bench and took his shirt down another button. Out the corner of his eye he caught the headline, the weather warnings: the record breaking heat wave. It was all fairly unnecessary reporting on something like the intensity of the sun, he thought to himself, looking up.

His thin shirt was now unbuttoned half way down and was clinging to his chest and back, and his hair, long and curly, was wet through and stuck to his forehead.

Out of the governmental building in front of him came a thin doctor, a much older man than he with glimmering spectacles, stepping out of the front door carrying a large box with holes cut in the top. On taking his first steps on the pavement in to the sweltering sun, the Doctor immediately turned wet and began gasping.

“Good day, Jahan,” he said, handing the young man the box. “How you are sitting out in this heat, I have no idea!”

“We don’t all have the luxury of air conditioned offices, Doctor Shah,” he said, and poked an eye through one of the holes in the box. “So was everything okay?”

The Doctor nodded, squinting in the glaring sun even through his spectacles. “Yes, a perfect couple, fully approved. Come on, we have a long way to go.”

Approaching a small car covered in cardboard, Jahan placed the box on the roof. They folded the cardboard away and stuffed it in to the back of the car, along with the box, which was secured with a seat belt, then the two got in the front and set off. Despite Jahan’s best efforts, the car was still sweltering.

“A representative from the UCF is taking care of the outfits, and he has the ring, so it shouldn’t take long once we arrive to get going,” the Doctor said after a few moments of silence.

Jahan nodded, turning his attention back to the dry streets, and the people lining either side fanning themselves with anything they could get their hands on. It had been a long, difficult summer. He remembered one year when he was a small boy, which had been just as hot, and they had a Mandooka Parinaya then. He remembered how curious he was when he was a boy, and how badly he wanted to see the ceremony.

This summer, as the newspapers all claimed, had been the hottest on record. Now he was an adult, and had taken a shining through his studies to the world of science, things like Mandooka Parinaya seemed nonsensical and illogical, yet here he was, caught up right in the middle of it.

For the first time since they met, he turned to the Doctor and explained that he didn’t believe in such things.

“This is surprising, that you have so little faith, Jahan,” the Doctor said in response. “Surprising and disappointing. You were the one that found the wonderful couple for us, after all.”

“Yes, Varuna and Varsha, as you have named them, are wonderful specimens, but I found them for scientific study. I’m surprised a man of science like yourself has so much faith.”

“It isn’t a matter of faith or science, Jahan. The two can, and often do, live side by side. But it isn’t for me to convince you. I thought the same when I was your age. Hopefully when you see a Mandooka Parinaya yourself you will understand a little better.”

Jahan nodded but remained unconvinced. After a few more minutes of driving, the Doctor pointed to an approaching slip-road, and motioned for Jahan to pull in.

They parked up in a drive way and both got out of the car to approach an old looking building. A small, smiling man with a large, fluffy mane of hair stepped out and shook the Doctor’s hand, nodding to Jahan who kept his distance. The Doctor handed the man the box from the backseat, which was in turn taken indoors and left there.

“Let me show you before you set off,” the man said, and unlocked the door to a shed, wheeling out of it small tricycle, freshly painted and decorated with flowers and vines, which the Doctor nodded at in approval.

“It was difficult keeping the flowers looking healthy in this heat,” the man said.

“But you have done a great job,” the Doctor said.

“Yes, and let us pray that after the ceremony this heat is less of a problem. I think it’s the one wedding I perform where we hope for rain.” He smiled at his own joke. “But don’t let me delay you any further, you need to be going.”

“You aren’t coming with us?” Jahan said.

“No,” the man said. “I will stay with the couple and deliver them to the ceremony myself,” and he gestured towards the tricycle. “They still need to be dressed as well.”

Jahan eyed the tricycle suspiciously, then said farewell to the man and joined the Doctor back in the car.

“Is that really necessary?” Jahan said, pointing with a thumb back at the tricycle as they pulled out of the drive.

“It is part of the ceremony. Asking whether it is necessary is like asking if a wedding ring is necessary, or a dress, or a priest. It is all part of the same thing.”

“So that man was the priest?”

“Indeed.”

“But how does all of this help the rain come?” Jahan asked.

“Performing Mandooka Parinaya is a prayer to the rain Gods: the Gods of water and the rainy season of whom the couple is named.” He shook his head, seeing Jahan was not satisfied with that. “As for explaining how it helps the rain come, I cannot sit here and explain faith to you, Jahan.”

“I just wonder if, rather than things like tricycles and ceremonies, we instead looked at a scientific way to stimulate rain, or at least a scientific way to save our crops.”

“Science cannot answer all of life’s challenges, Jahan. Where science cannot reach is the realm that the Gods control, and the sun and the rain is all their making.”

The two drove on until eventually they saw the small sign welcoming them to the town of Bhopal. Jahan remembered coming here once a few years ago, and didn’t think too much of it then, but now the place seemed transformed: banners and bunting hung between buildings, the streets were filled with hundreds of people, all dressed in fine clothes and garlands, which Jahan assumed to be the invited guests. The women all wore their finest dresses and jewelry, and Jahan felt a little self conscious of his own appearance.

“I have a change of clothes for us both in our room,” the Doctor said, sensing his apprehension. “Don’t worry.”

The pair headed to the hotel, where the ceremony would be taking place, and got changed in to light, cleanly pressed trousers and shirts. Jahan was relieved to get out of his drenched clothes, and was even more relieved to see the sun had finally started to set.

Back in the foyer of the hotel, the muggy air was filled with the smell of spices: the feast that was being prepared for everyone once the ceremony itself was over.

“How long will this last?” Jahan asked, thinking of past weddings he had attended, and how they seemed to drag on for days and days until everyone was exhausted and could take no more.

“Just a few hours,” the Doctor replied, now wearing a long, clean white shirt and a garland. “It would be unfair on the couple to drag it out any longer. After Mandooka Parinaya itself we’ll eat and dance, then the couple will get straight off to Mannapalla to honeymoon.”

Jahan’s skepticism rose again at the word ‘honeymoon’, but he bit his tongue not wanting to offend any of the other guests within ear shot.

Soon, cries could be heard, and music played, signaling the arrival of the couple. Jahan and the Doctor followed, walking behind the others. The procession passed through the street, petals and paint were thrown over the couple as they passed through on their tricycle, pushed by the priest who read passages aloud in Sanskrit and smiled cordially at everyone.

The ceremony, once they had all arrived and found their places at the hotel, turned out to be even shorter than the Doctor promised. Jahan was surprised to see the Doctor himself play a lead part, holding the groom no less, while a woman he did not know held the bride. The priest with his big fluffy mane, which had now doubled in volume from earlier, read the vows and offered the first simple prayers. The bride and groom themselves wore simple garlands for outfits, tied around their bodies, and Varsha, the female, wore a Mangalsutra.

A volunteer then stepped up and sang aarathis and more prayers followed.

“It is over,” the priest said, holding up his hands, and the Doctor and woman both held up the new couple in return. “May they bring prosperity and rain to these lands!”

Chants and cheers came from the guests, and quiet ribbits of consent were heard from the new couple, who were swiftly boxed back up and sent off to Mannapalla for their honeymoon, as promised.

The feast was then presented to the guests, accompanied by some dancing and singing, and much of what you’d find in any wedding in the world.

Jahan found the Doctor later in the evening, looking tired and at peace, and sat by him.

“So how do you feel having finally witnessed a Mandooka Parinaya, Jahan?” the Doctor said.

“I feel exactly as I should after just witnessing a wedding between two frogs,” Jahan said, shaking his head. “Confused and not at all convinced.”

“Well give it time for the Gods to respond and show you otherwise,” the Doctor said. “The ceremony never fails.”

Very early the next morning, before the sun as risen, Jahan and the Doctor shook hands and parted, with the former needing to get back to town for his lessons. As he left Bhopal, passing back under the banners and bunting, Jahan saw in the distance dark clouds looming. A few moments later, he held his hand out the window, feeling the first drops of water fall, and began to laugh.

He pulled over and stood in the rain for a few minutes, letting it land on his face, remembering the feeling when he was a boy, and the first rain had come to end that terrible drought, and he had done the same. Then he pictured the couple, hopping together on their honeymoon, and wondered if they had any idea what they had just been a part of.

* * *