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Oota goes haute

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    In my two decades in the south, much has changed. This includes the evolution of Bangalore from being the proverbial Pensioners Paradise to being Pot-holed Punishment; from being Garden City to being Garbage City.

    It is marriage season here and, noticeably, what has also changed is the southern wedding. Of course, it still retains the customs handed down over the generations as the blessings of the gods are sought to ensure a smooth passage into matrimony. But there is now the new tradition of the evening reception and video coverage. “Hey,” someone will shout, “the cameraman didn’t get that,” and so the groom will have to tie the mangalsutra again around the bride’s neck. Uncle Balasubramaniam with family will pose with the bridal couple, then colleague Krishnamurthy will do the same, then NRI Padmanabhan (“Pad”) will give his wide smile to the cameraman, and Pad’s firang friend will do the same, and so it goes.

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    But the biggest change is in the variety on offer at the oota (dinner). In place of the long tables with banana leaves at the chowltry (wedding hall) of yore, there is now a buffet spread. And it is a tribute to national integration. You can have lacchhedar paratha with aviyal; and Kashmiri pulao with sambar and coconut chutney, for instance.

    There have been times when even the traditional banana leaf fare served up on long tables by servers in their ‘mundus’ have started me off at the oota with sweet corn soup served in a tea cup and without a spoon. Rice is always served as per tradition, but now there is also the mandatory add-on: tandoori roti.

    The peculiar northern habit of serving gulab jamun or gajjar ka halwa with vanilla icecream has also caught on here, but recently, after the mounds of rice-sambar, rice-rasam, curd-rice, and mysore pak, there was butterscotch icecream as well as basundi!

    Recently, after I blessed the bridal couple, handed over the gift and burped after the oota, I accepted the “return gift” of a coconut with a South Indian paan, known as beeda. But at the flower-bedecked gateway on my way out, I spotted a paanwala dishing out paans of all shapes and sizes — lucknowi, banarasi or magai. You could take your pick!

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