Celebration or burden? Kashmiris weigh the costs of ‘wasteful’ weddings

By Hilal Mir

SRINAGAR, Jammu and Kashmir (AA) – A Kashmiri wedding is measured in quintals, a historical unit of weight equal to 100 kilograms, or about 220 pounds. And this, some argue, is its undoing.

If you have been to a Kashmiri wedding recently and your friend were to inquire about it, the most common query would be, “How many quintals had they slaughtered?”

There is no need to belabor the point by spelling out “quintals of sheep” – quintal alone suffices because mutton is the centerpiece of the wedding “wazwan,” the ceremonial Kashmiri feast that boasts anywhere between a modest seven to 20 or more dishes, apart from all the accompaniments – chutneys, sauces, salads, and drinks.

In addition to mutton dishes, a whole fried chicken is shared by the four people who eat together from a copper platter, or “trami,” on which the feast is served over a mound of rice.

Yet, all said and done, mutton is the key and the king. To the point where wazwan chefs charge just half the price of mutton for a chicken dish, and nothing for the one or two seasonal vegetable dishes thrown in to break the monotony of a steady parade of meat delicacies.

The prospect of this meal is both awaited and dreaded. It is probably the only wedding feast that has attracted periodic intervention by government and religious leaders to rein in some of its excesses.

While scholars urged austerity, authorities issued decrees to limit the number of guests and other elements to curb the amount of food to be cooked. Violators faced raids and fines, but nothing succeeded, not even the periodic economic downturns or the decades-old insurgency raging in Indian-administered Kashmir.

- Changed times

For culture expert and Kashmiri poet Zareef Ahmad Zareef, today’s weddings are more about pomp and show, “fueled by a break with tradition, bad outside influences and, in many cases, ill-gotten wealth.”

If you go back 40 to 50 years, he said, a typical platter consisted of six mutton dishes and a seasonal vegetable cooked with ingredients such as saffron and cockscomb flower.

No artificial coloring or taste enhancers were used. One-and-a-half kilograms of mutton would be served per platter for guests, known as an “aam trami,” or communal platter.

But for the bridegroom’s party, the platter had one more mutton dish – roughly two kilograms of mutton – and a chicken, besides two to three chutneys, a plateful of “pulao” – seasoned rice – and a dessert.

“In those days, you would be looking forward to the wedding meal for months. These days, you don’t want to go at all,” said Zareef.

Today, the common platter is between 2.5 to 3 kilograms of mutton dishes and a whole chicken, all cooked in dizziness-inducing sauces laden with oil, along with sides of chutney, salad, pulao, and drinks.

The bridegroom’s platter is a glutton’s dream, boasting anywhere between 5 to 7 kilograms of mutton dishes, plus the chicken and sides.

Accompanying a bridegroom, considered an honor, becomes a nightmare for some, as the feast of meat is followed by dry fruits, juices, and cardamom tea with pastries.

Previously, said Zareef, whatever was served was eaten. Only in rare cases, which was looked down upon, would a mother put aside a kebab or a piece of chicken to take it home for her kids. Not many had the luxury of mutton in daily meals.

Now, a wedding wazwan has become a sort of takeaway, with each person around the platter given two sets of bags to carry home whatever they do not or cannot finish.

For many, the celebratory meal is becoming an obligation they would rather not have, but the more people are pushing back against such weddings, the more they are becoming a norm.

Most Kashmiri weddings, which stretch over three days, are traditionally held in the bride and groom’s homes, and are taxing for their parents and families.

Only a few weddings are held in rented marriage halls or restaurants.

The wedding meals are cooked over a wood fire in the open, presenting a logistical challenge. The wood used is also measured in quintals; an 8-quintal wedding devours a small truck of firewood, preferably from an apricot tree.

Late arrivals at weddings and the burgeoning quintals of meat are a nightmare also for the unsung stars of Kashmiri weddings – the “wazas,” or chefs.

They chop whole slaughtered sheep into different cuts that make up wazwan dishes, cook the meat over open fires while battling heat and smoke, and heave around huge copper cauldrons with bare hands.

Although they get paid by the weight – from 16,000 to 30,000 Indian rupees (around $200 to $350) per quintal – many rather prefer the smaller weddings of past.

For them, weddings mean a lot of sleepless nights; a waza might ready the meal at seven in the evening, but grooms usually arrive at the bride’s home very late in the night. The waza has no option but to wait because he has to serve the dishes, one at a time.

The next day, he has to arrive early at another wedding. Tons of vessels and other paraphernalia have to be transported from the previous day’s wedding.

“The seven-dish weddings were good. You could cook them well. There was little pressure, no rush. Time is a big issue. Hosts often don’t understand our problems,” said Abdul Majid Bhat, a third-generation waza.

- Moderation and reforms

Several years ago, Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, a pro-freedom leader and a religious figure, urged other religious leaders to push for marriage reforms, including lighter weddings.

“We even called prominent chefs and urged them to refuse big orders, but they said they were helpless because people oblige them,” Umar told Anadolu.

Dowry and big weddings, combined with a lack of employment and business opportunities, added Umar, are a major cause of late marriages, a major concern in the region.

“Moderation is needed. Weddings are fine, wazwan is fine, but wastefulness and extravagance have no place in either Islam or our ethos. The entire community has to pitch in to stop this,” he said.

Dr. Marooq Shah, a vet, sufi practitioner, and social reformer, has a much stronger stance: “These are not weddings, they are obscenities. They are an abomination health-wise, environment-wise, economy-wise, and in total disregard of our religion and ethics.”

He sees it as a bad custom that has “taken on a life of its own.”

Shah, founder and trustee of a charity group, enumerated dozens of wasteful and avoidable expenses that make marriages expensive, apart from the quintals of meat, such as expensive invitation cards, elaborate tents, endless functions, use of plastics, etc.

“This monster has grown because of the gradual loss of community values that acted as a restricting and regulating factor,” he said.

“This is the failure of a community at all levels. Otherwise, why would an imam oversee a nikkah (marriage contract) at a wedding that the bride’s father is hosting after taking loans from banks or relatives,” Shah said.

Zareef, the poet, echoed his view, terming increasingly extravagant weddings a reflection of a “generalized fall in Kashmiri society that is evident in everything, from our architecture to our dress and language.”