Home Welcome About Us Contact Us

 

MEMON WEDDINGS IN KATHIAWAR

  BY MR. EBRAHIM C. MOOMAL

In the words of its author “END OF THE ROAD”  is a book of “RONDOM, RAMPANT  & RUNAWAY THOUGHTS” written by Mr. Ebrahim C. Moomal a Memon businessman and intellectual who migrated from Ranavav and settled in South Africa. The book was published from Pretoria in 1996. It is an interesting book full of interesting episodes, observations and impressions of the author about life in Africa. The author has also included some famous Gazals and songs by Munni Begum, Chitra and Jagjid Singh and old Indian Filmi songs in Roman script with translation in lucid English. The book was sent to me by Dr. A.R. Moti – a Cardiologist and now Vice President, World Memon Organization for South Africa. I have selected a few exerpts from the book which provide glimpses from the past of the Memon community. I hope that it will be of interest to readers.
                                                       ABDUR RAZZAQ THAPLAWALA

Delving into history goads you to dig deeper and deeper into the inner recesses of your mind, to unearth and excavate any esoteric knowledge gleaned from here and there and not found in history books. This may, perhaps, prove useful to contemporaries as well as to posterity. We find that this life’s journey began way back in 1925, from a little village called Ranavav, some 18 kms away from the port of Porbandar, on the western seaboard of India, except that it is situated in the province of Kathiawar, sometimes referred to as Saurashtra, in the state of Gujrat.

Before the heydays of the villages an extraordinary form of life prevailed. There were family feuds where small, small villages were divided into territories and rivalry persisted. For example, the small village of Bhanvad was split into five areas known as Hinoosro, Hoonoosro, Vichlo Pado, Takio Pado and Navi Masjid; Ranavav too was split into clans, the Sivanis, Esanis, Moondas, Mandhais and many other smaller clans; Jodya also had its Saamo Katho and Porbandar, with its Panjhatri in Hi-aari and Suryawad in Hoo-aari. Each of these areas had a mosque, thus there were four or five mosques in small, small villages.

 

However, all the splintering disappeared when the tide of adventurers migrated to far off lands and began remitting monies to families left behind. The people would have a permanent base in these villages and return home every two or three years, make merry and really go to town with the fortunes earned in some foreign country. There was liveliness and prosperity. If there was a wedding in the village (and there were weddings aplenty), the tradesmen would get busy and station themselves around the bride’s house. The Darjis (Tailors), the Sonis (Jewelers), the Mochis (shoemakers), the Soothars (carpenters), the Khatkis (butchers), the grain merchants, the tentmakers, the Kandhois (sweetmeat-makers), the bakers, you name him and that craftsman was there. There would be weeks of festivities preceding the wedding. There would be nights set out for various functions. One night would be reserved for Waai’z by an Eminent Aalim (Ja’ez; permissible). Another night for Khatmul Quran (Ja’ez; permissible). A night of Quwwalis (non-permissible; Na Ja’ez, because of the music), a night for Naats (Ja’ez; permissible), a series of nights, especially, for the womenfolk; for Geet and Raasra, for Danda-raas, a night for Mehendi Party, exclusively female, (all naja-ez; non-permissible). Mehendi or what is also called Henna is lavishly employment in the adornment of the feet and hands of the bride. Intricate designs and patterns are adroitly and skillfully thought out to lend color to the hands and feet. A whole lot of fusion of the Hindu and Muslim cultures come into play.

On the night of the wedding the “Varrajho” (bridegroom) would arrive mounted on a horse, fully festooned from head to toes with tinsel, turban and ornamental finery. The “Laadie” (bride) would be clad in an exclusive Memon trousseau, made up of ‘Tasar jo Aabo’, a yellow colored dress, heavily adorned with tinsel (known as Jari and Baadlo), Paanch Pat’e ji I’jaar, a brightly colored, striped trousers and Khombhi, a bright red, sequined and tinseled large chiffon scarf. Although the dress and the trousers are things of the past, the Khombhi makes its appearance at many a wedding, despite the white Western wedding dress.

 

The bride festooned in the garb described above would be taken to the bridal chamber on the wedding night to await the arrival of the groom. The bride would be muttering and murmuring to herself “meri ha koo na na samjo, meri na koo ha samjlo”, meaning, “Do not take my yes for a no but interpret my every no for a yes”. She would be sat in corner in a “oonghat” (Ghoomto).

 

This “Goonghat” (Ghoomto) is a scaraf, on the Khombhi, covering the fact which the bridegroom is supposed to coax the bride to remove and she would in turn playfully protest to retain it. Once the scarf is lifted and the face revealed, the ice will have been broken. The utter coyness, the sheer shyness and the innocent bashfulness are the true jewels of that era, not the monied jewellery, diamonds and pearls that abound this day. Remember all this happened in an age when arranged and pre-arranged marriages were the order of the day unlike the present day marriages where romancing and familiarizing precede the tying of the bridal knot and yet end invariably in a divorce. I have used the word ‘familiarising’ deliberately and with intent and purpose. It has a loaded meaning in more sense than one.

 

Anent dressing, I wish to record here an incident where one Cassim (Moslem) married Kastu (Hindu) and the whole village came out chanting a ditty;

 

      “Kastu tan-e Ghaghro, Kapro nahin gamiyoon, tu Aabaa, Ijaar oopar mooi r-e” meaning that, Kastu, you didn’t like the Ghaghro, Kapro (Hindu), you opted for the Aabaa, Ijaar (Muslim) instead.

 

This singular event happened some seventy years ago and the couple were forced to abandon the village. I merely record this for purposes of history. The present generation would be totally unfamiliar with the events and customs prevailing in that period.

 

Speaking of arranged and also pre-arranged marriages send other bells ringing in one’s ears. Bells that remind us of an era, a bygone era that we may never experience again. An era when the dictates of our grandmas and grand-dads, our Naanji-mas and Daadi-mas, our Dada-p’es and Nana-p’es, our Hajianimas and Hajip’es resigned supreme.  

Extract from: “End of the Road”