By F. Ahmed
IANS
Machan (Jammu and Kashmir) : When a marriage stirs a humble hamlet to life, its joys cannot be rivalled by the big bashes of high profile weddings. And so it was in this village.
Suddenly Machan, 32 km north of summer capital Srinagar, was reverberating with excitement. For the 150 residents of this village at the Himalayan foothills it was a very special occasion.
By the local standards of impoverished rural Kashmiri peasant families, where marriages are simple, private affairs, the marriage of government employee Hassan Parray's daughter Shahzada Friday would pass as an even humbler, simpler affair.
It was not an Aishwarya Rai-Abhishek Bachchan wedding, so there were no VVIP guests or multi-camera set-ups to record the event for posterity.
There were no floodlights to mark the path of the bridegroom who belonged to the nearby Wussan village. No buntings or illumination to welcome the groom's arrival.
And still, the village bustled with such pure, honest joy that the rich and the famous would genuinely envy it.
"Everybody in the village contributed to make the marriage a memorable event. Neighbours brought a few sheep for the groom's feast. Village women sang traditional Kashmiri songs to welcome the groom who simply walked the half-a- kilometre distance to the bride's home," said Muhammad Sadiq, 38, Parray's neighbour and friend.
When the local imam told the relatives of the groom and the bride if the 'mehar' (bride's money) had already been settled – it had to be paid in cash before the 'nikah' (marriage contract) could be legalised as per Muslim law – they looked bewildered. The intricacies of contracts and legal documents were alien to them.
The imam had to spend a long time convincing the parties that the mehar must be settled and paid in his presence before he could recite the Quranic verses to solemnise the marriage.
Finally, a 'mehar' of Rs.25,000 was agreed upon and the groom's father managed the cash through another miracle.
Word went to the groom's village that the marriage had been withheld for payment of the 'mehar' in cash. Within half an hour the relatives and neighbours of the groom succeeded in putting together the 'huge amount' which was paid to the bride and the marriage contract formalised.
Simple food was served to the 20 odd guests who came with the groom. The bride, dressed in simple but beautiful clothes was brought out of her father's home to depart with her husband.
"Allah's will finally prevails. This marriage wouldn't have been possible with my resources. But, Allah is discerning," Parray said while bidding farewell to his daughter.
Parray works as a part-time employee in the state social welfare department and his wages are around Rs.2,500 a month, within which he must manage his family of six people including wife, three daughters and a nine-year-old son.
The entire population of the village walked with moist eyes to bid farewell to Parray's daughter.
"Such genuine feelings are the preserve of the poor and the modest. When an entire village blesses a marriage as humble as this, Allah's blessings ensure the happiness and prosperity of the newly weds," said Naem Akhter, a state bureaucrat who came to bless the newly weds and was deeply moved by the function.
Parray once worked as a domestic help at Akhter's house.
Akhter said: "Marriages like this must serve as the beacon for all of us. Here, no dowry is paid, no demands are made by the groom's family and the only ornaments the bride wears are those of innate simplicity, the goodwill and blessings of village elders."
When the groom's party left the village with the bride, Parray sat by the side of a heap of hay in his backyard.
He looked at the heavily overcast sky. Rain was about to fall, but had held back till the poor man's daughter was married.