Wedding Invitations: a journey through tradition of hand delivering and modernity

A FEW months ago, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a visit at my home, from two of my cousins to deliver wedding invitations for their respective daughters' nuptials. Given that these cousins are professionals in high-powered jobs, and that they had found time in their busy schedules to hand deliver the invitations, was an absolute delight in itself.

The personal delivery of  wedding invitations is an age-old tradition which in recent years has faded.

Nowadays, social media is used to send the invite, or it is sent by a third party of the family.

I know when my son got married 10 years ago, there was just no way that I could have handed over the invites personally. Therefore, I engaged my sisters and sisters-in-law to do it on my behalf.

And where it was possible to be posted, I did that.

However, given the state of postal services in our country, it’s not a route I would recommend today, as the invite may arrive well after the day of the wedding.

The SA postal service literally lives up to the term, snail mail.   

When I got married 45 years ago, I had no say in anything. My mom was the wedding planner. My dad was the supporting act.

I remember them sitting at the dining room table with a few of my aunts and uncles, and drawing up the wedding invitation list.

They started making a list of all the relatives on my mom’s and dad’s side of the family.

Then there was a list of friends of the family.

My mom had a little book in which she had most of the family telephone numbers. There was no need for addresses. They just knew who lived where.

Back in the day, we used the area of residence to differentiate between the different families, like Westville Nani, or Flower Road Nani, or Greenwood Park Nana.

Once the list was drawn up, it was then divided into “areas”, for example, Chatsworth, Reservoir Hills, Asherville, etc. 

My main role was to help my sisters in the kitchen make tea and provide snacks when all the "big people" were busy.

Once the invitations arrived, there was another “family meeting” to write out the names, dot the invites with hurdee on one corner, and then bundle them into areas for handing out.

My parents visited families and hand delivered all our invites. There was no such thing as an RSVP or limit on number of people who could attend. It was a given that the whole family, kids and all, would attend.

Over 1,000 people attended my wedding. I knew about 100 of them at most. The rest was a blur.

Today, the couple have a huge say in who is invited, and usually engage a wedding planner to handle all the arrangements. The invite states the number of people who may attend. I have seen the words “admit 2” on some invites. And a date for the RSVP is also included.

Sometimes the invite will say “no children allowed”, no boxed gifts please, or a gift of cash is preferred by the couple. And honestly, I get all of these conditions.

Dressing kids in elaborate outfits, which are more often than not scratchy on their delicate skin and expecting them to sit quietly, is just not fair to the child.

Also, if the couple have already bought a home and furnished it, a boxed gift of red towels may not suit the theme in their home.

I was lucky enough to receive four electric frying pans, two kettles, a clock radio (which still works), and glasses for Africa, among the many gifts.

I enjoyed opening them all, and regifted a lot of them to my sisters and cousins.

Also, each gift has a name and memory to it. I still use the electric mixer Dhro Mosie gave me.

So when I use it, I think of her. And, of course, I think of my mom every time I use my long-life shiny stainless steel pots. You know which ones I am referring to.

The cost of those pots today is equivalent to the price of a return domestic plane ticket. It was a thing back in the day to be gifted pots filled with rice, lentils and sweets.

I got married into a Gujerathi home, and my mother-in-law was quite bemused at these pots and thali/lota sets.

I came to hear through the busy family grapevine that one cousin delivered a wedding invitation to the place of work of an invitee, and the other left an invite with an aunt for her to give to her daughter.

I believe that there was some outrage at this behaviour, and that the husband of the invitee says he has a house with a door on it. Really? Would you have rather received the invitation by WhatsApp?

Rumour has it that they will not attend the upcoming weddings because they were not invited personally.

Oh well, just grow up already. You were thought of.

A plan was made. You were invited. Sometimes, due to time constraints and work schedules, invites have to travel via other people to reach you.

I have even received invites to forthcoming weddings while attending some other family functions. No harm in that, and no offence taken. Life has evolved. 

Five decades ago the party favour was a small plastic bag of supari, and another of pink and white almonds or cashew sweets.

About 20 years ago, party favours became little brass ornaments containing a chocolate or two, and about 10 years ago or so, party favours became a little box containing a small Ganesha or some such statue.

Now herein lies my dilemma. I was cleaning my cupboards the other day and came across a handful of these little idols and don't know what to do with them.

My upbringing will not allow me to throw them away.  And I have a simple prayer stand, uncluttered by idols, so they can’t go there. I asked a few friends for some advice.

One advised me to dig a hole in my garden and bury them. Another said to put them among some plants in the garden.

Yet another said to put them in a river. The thing is that these idols are not bio-degradable.

I am still not convinced that these are good options, so in the meantime I have lined them all on a little tray in my patio, and every time I walk past them I ponder what their ultimate fate is going to be.

Nowadays, the number of guests are limited, as caterers charge the equivalent of a month's worth of groceries to cater for a meal per person. In my time, the wedding was held in a hall, seating was cinema-style, and the dining was in the adjacent hall, where trestles were covered in trestle paper and food was served from large plastic bowls.

I have also attended weddings in tents in a few faraway places. The “girl's-side" people had the duty to serve. Not sure why the groom’s side were treated like royalty.

A team of four per aisle served the vegetable breyani, dhal, soojee and water in that order.

The food was served to you on a banana leaf or a paper plate. It was quite acceptable to eat with the fingers. Not a wet wipe in sight. As soon as you were done eating, you walked over to the taps and washed your hands. I started to carry plastic teaspoons in my bag when my OCD about clean hands surfaced. 

Today, the tables are all set out with plates, side plates, cutlery, and maybe a fancy chocolate or two. And lovely centre-pieces.

All colour co-ordinated. No more taking the flowers from the table home after the function as these centrepieces are hired. Food is served by waiters, mainly women dressed in matching saris. Upon a signal from the host, usually when the nuptials are about halfway, starter platters are brought out. And as soon as the nuptials are over, the meal is served. After which there is a receiving line. 

Sometimes, there are music and traditional dancing to keep the guests entertained while the newlyweds do a photo-shoot. This can take up to an hour. We never heard of such things in my time. Not even videoing. When my son got married, I made it quite clear that the photo-shoot or first-look whatever were going to take place before the wedding started. Personally, I think it’s in poor taste to keep guests waiting while the photo-shoot goes on.

I know it’s their big day and all that. But a fair compromise can be reached. I heard a story on the radio the other day about the wedding photographer who deleted all the wedding pictures because he was denied a plate of food. There was some debate about whether his or the hosts' actions were correct. All I can say, Indian hospitality is known worldwide, and a plate of food would never be denied.

What I can also say to the photographer is that if he did delete the photos, his business is cooked for sure, and a lawsuit is coming. Hopefully, enough guests whipped out their cellphones at some point, and some memories were recorded as keepsakes for the couple.

The upcoming family weddings have energised me sufficiently to look in my sari cupboard and try on blouses to see if they still fit. My saris are organised into categories like special occasion, casual, funeral attending, etc. (I did mention I have OCD about neatness and organising). I found a few still with price tags on them. I can’t figure out why I bought them in the first place. Probably were “what if” purchases.

Anyway, I have to find a blouse maker pretty soon. 

I am looking forward to the celebrations, both pre-wedding and the weddings themselves. I will meet family members whom I have not seen in ages, meet nieces and nephews who don’t even know my name. But that’s okay. I know theirs.

Until the next time.

Dr Sandy Kalyan is a psychologist, life coach and reiki practitioner. Write to her at [email protected]

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media

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