If there is one thing these fathers seem to agree on, it is that stigma thrives in silence. So, they decided to borrow from the visual language of a wedding — the procession, band-baaja, and public spectacle — and deploy it at the other end of the marital journey
The baraat is perhaps India’s most recognisable piece of wedding shenanigans — a loud, sweaty, and celebratory party — to announce that a daughter is leaving. The question nobody asked — until now — was why we never threw one for her coming back.
Earlier this month, a former judge stood waiting for his daughter outside a family court in Meerut with a small crowd, all in matching black T-shirts that read, ‘I Love My Daughter. My Heart, My Soul.’ The daughter, Pranita, wore one too: ‘My Family, My Life.’ It began, as most Indian wedding stories do, with the baraat. Because it was exactly that — garlands, mithai, and a dhol player on standby — only heading the other way.
Earlier this month, a former judge stood waiting for his daughter outside a family court in Meerut with a small crowd, all in matching black T-shirts that read, ‘I Love My Daughter. My Heart, My Soul.’ The daughter, Pranita, wore one too: ‘My Family, My Life.’ It began, as most Indian wedding stories do, with the baraat. Because it was exactly that — garlands, mithai, and a dhol player on standby — only heading the other way.