A card we must discard
Writing in The Valley of Kashmir, published in 1895, Walter Roper Lawrence described the Kashmiri of his time as one who was “not extravagant” and who “happily spends little on marriages and similar occasions.” But Lawrence immediately added a note of apprehension: as prosperity increased, he feared, the Kashmiri might follow the example prevailing elsewhere and increase expenditure on marriages.
More than 130 years later, his apprehension seems to have been justified beyond imagination.Marriage expenditure in Kashmir today takes innumerable forms, but broadly it may be viewed under three heads: food, particularly the ever-expanding demands surrounding wazwan; decoration and display; and a variety of incidental expenditures which, over time, have acquired the force of social custom.
All three deserve examination. But there is one expenditure which particularly disturbs me: the expensive printed wedding invitation card. I do not defend extravagance in food. The quantities of meat and other eatables consumed at our weddings can certainly be questioned. Yet, at the end of the day, food is food. Someone eats it. Someone is fed. Nor can extravagant decoration easily be justified. Enormous sums are sometimes spent on flowers, lighting, stages and entrances which disappear within hours. Yet even these, one may argue, satisfy an aesthetic desire and lend colour to a memorable occasion.But what does an expensive wedding card leave behind?
Thousands of rupees are spent on designing and printing cards on expensive paper, placing them in elaborate envelopes or boxes and arranging their delivery. The recipient opens the card, reads the names, notes the date and venue and puts it aside.
Its purpose is over.Sooner or later, the card has to go. How........
