Summary

The web content describes the author's reflections on the concept of illumination, contrasting the luxurious use of lights in Western settings with the more practical and cultural applications of light in India, particularly during weddings.

Abstract

The article titled "Bottled Light, Uncorking Happiness" delves into the author's contemplation of the GiaB writing prompt #15 on "Illumination." Initially feeling that India lacks the enchanting light displays found in places like a UK restaurant, the author recalls the challenges of power outages in Chittaranjan, West Bengal. The narrative shifts to the celebratory illumination during the Founder's Day in Jamshedpur, yet the author chooses to focus on the illumination at Indian weddings. Here, the article highlights the tradition of the groom's procession, or baraat, where women carry lights on their heads to guide the way, often without the privilege of joining the feast. The author emphasizes the happiness and satisfaction these women find in their work, despite the societal divide and the physical strain of their role.

Opinions

The author initially feels that India lacks the kind of decorative illumination found in Western settings, such as fairy lights in a glass-conservatory-turned restaurant in the UK.
The article conveys a sense of nostalgia and resignation about the power outages experienced in the author's childhood town of Chittaranjan, where the community was well-versed in candle wax management.
There is a clear contrast drawn between the opulence of gold and silver gifts at Indian weddings and the simple yet significant role of women carrying light pots during wedding processions.
The author suggests that the societal divide between rich and poor is evident in the wedding celebrations, yet the women carrying the lights do not seem to mind their position and are content with their work.
The article challenges readers to consider their own complaints in light of these women's lives, suggesting that their contentment with such labor is enlightening in itself.

Bottled Light, Uncorking Happiness

GiaB prompt #15 illumination

Baridih Recreation Club, a common wedding feast location in my city. Photo by author.

When I first saw the GiaB prompt of the fortnight – Illumination – in this article where Victor Sarkin talks about fairy lights in a glass-conservatory-turned restaurant, in the UK, I thought,

Oh. There’s no way I could talk about anything as beautiful as that. This is India, there aren’t any such lighted restaurants here.

Then my mind turned to darker thoughts still. Nights in Chittaranjan, West Bengal, spent without electricity. The saying was that the first English word children in Chittaranjan learned was “load-shedding”.

My sixth or seventh birthday party in Chittaranjan. I am the girl in the blue striped shirt in front of the cake. Back then, I wanted to look just like my brother. Photo by author.

Chittaranjan is the Indian locomotive-making town where I attended nursery and junior school in the early ’80s. Even today, my brother and I are experts at preventing the patch that the melting wax from a candle makes when it is allowed to fall to the floor.

Everyone would eat in a rush, knowing which days the lights would go out at night. Photo by author.

We’d have huge arguments about whether or not the melting wax had any fuel in it, and if it could be melted back into a candle with a wick. This argument is still unresolved.

My mind rebelled at the thought of illumination for decoration, when we’d spent six years of random nights in the dark. Not to mention the humidity without a ceiling fan.

Then I looked at my March calendar. The third of March is the day when my city Jamshedpur celebrates its Founder’s day.

Third March Celebrations, 2021. Photo courtesy Kriti Singh, a friend of the author.

The founder is Jamsetji Nuserwanji Tata, and the city is named after him.

Jubilee Park, Jamshedpur on 3 March 2021. Photo courtesy Kriti Singh, a friend of the author.

But rather than talking about instances of illumination for huge corporate and town celebrations like for 3 March in Jamshedpur, or even our Diwali festival of lights, let me take you to an Indian wedding. Here’s my Illumination story.

Illumination for the darkness within

Here’s a crowded gold and silver smith’s shop. This isn’t even a posh part of town. The rush is because of the ongoing wedding season. Silver and gold are common wedding gifts for the bride and groom.

Photo of gold and silver smith’s shop. Gold and silver are musts for fancy weddings. Photo by author.

The reds hanging from this store also signal Indian bridal colors.

The shop next to the goldsmith’s. Reds with appliqué are worn by the bride. Photo by author.

So? What’s that got to do with illumination?

Well, a prominent part of the wedding is when the groom comes to the bride’s house for the wedding. He comes on a white horse, and nowadays because of the lack of white horses, the groom comes in a white car.

White car, decorated and used in lieu of a horse for transporting a groom to his wedding. Photo by author.

This is called the baraat. It is a procession of dancing people, who dance their way to the place where the wedding will be solemnized/celebrated.

Dancing crowds at a wedding baraat. You can see the tube lights, which are held by men in this case, behind the revelers. Photo by author.

The crowd dances to music, played by a marching and drumming, pipe and trumpet playing band of musicians who play the songs commonly danced to at weddings.

The procession is lit up by women who carry lights on their heads. They provide illumination.

You can take your rich-poor divide and allegations of unfairness and go to town with them.

Fact is: There’s someone in India, who is right now going to work, to hold on her head, a pot of light, for somebody else’s wedding.

Fancy wedding baraat in Jamshedpur, with camels, no less. The women carrying the light, in a fan shape, reminded me of peacocks. Photo courtesy Dr. Shrikanth Nair, used by the author with permission.

They don’t even go to therapy. They’re actually happy to be paid whatever they get, for the job of holding those lights.

Unlike other people at the wedding, the musicians and the women holding the light pots, aren’t invited to the wedding feast, which isn’t until much later. So they don’t even get to eat as well as the cooks do.

All they do is provide the light.

Women carry illuminating pots on their heads. Photo courtesy Studio Dutta, Vijaya Gardens, and used by the author with permission.

So next time you’re feeling discriminated against, remember this picture, of what you don’t do for a living.

It’s illuminating.

These women carry the lights as matter-of factly as their sisters carry bricks.

I tag Jehan Senai Worthy, Vinay Mahato, Bleeding Heart Liberal Marine, İpeksu Durmaz and R. Rangan PhD to write about Illumination as per the prompt guidelines below.

Piercing Darkness

GiaB writing prompt #15

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