A certain street:
a) is just broad enough for two cars to cross each other (and this includes the space that would have been available had there been no vehicles parked on the street)
b) is a bus route
and
c) is obstructed by a marriage procession that is occupying more than half the width of the street, is louder than an aircraft engine and is moving slowly enough to put to shame the slowest of snails.
There the groom is, comfortably seated on top of the mare, with brass band members blowing trumpets into scooter riders’ ears, and family members swinging their arms and spinning around on the street. Two vehicles try to squeeze through the remaining space and get stuck. The procession extends further with vehicles lining up behind the dancing people. The cacophony becomes louder as these vehicles chip in with their honking. And thus, another attempt at making it The Great Indian Wedding translates into The Great Indian Traffic Jam. Wait, I almost forgot the firecrackers.
Marriages, we believe, are made in Heaven… but they certainly make the life on the streets hellish (as if it wasn’t otherwise). Incredible India it is.
