As I twirl the last crumbs of a jalebi between my fingers, reminiscing about my wedding, one moment stands out like a Bollywood climax—the Varmala ceremony. The air was thick with marigold perfume, the dhol thumping like my heartbeat, and my groom, Vikram, dodging my garland as though he was auditioning for a comedy flick. If you caught my last blog, Underrated Green Flags in a Partner, you know Vikram’s quirks—like his knack for turning chaos into laughter—sealed the deal. But today, let’s dive into the Varmala, that flower-powered ritual that’s more than just a playful tussle. It’s a tradition steeped in history, dripping with meaning and, let’s be real, a total riot to experience. So, grab your chai, and let’s unravel the garlanded glory of South Asian weddings!
Picture this:
It’s my wedding day, and the venue’s a kaleidoscope of colours—twinkling lights, marigold curtains, and aunties in blinged-out sarees. I’m decked in a red lehenga, hands still sticky from Mehndi night (check out Mehndi Nights and Memories for that saga), and Vikram’s rolling in with his baraat, looking like a sherwani-clad rockstar. Then comes the Varmala—aka Jaimala—the moment when we sling flower garlands around each other’s necks, officially saying, “Yep, you’re mine!” But it’s not all mushy vibes. Oh no, it’s a full-on desi showdown.
My cousins hoist me up like I’m Simran running for the train, while Vikram’s squad lifts him high, turning it into a garland-tossing tug-of-war. Guests are cheering, someone’s yelling, “Higher, higher!” and I’m laughing so hard I nearly drop my mala. Finally, I lasso him—victory!—and he smirks, slipping his garland over me as though he’s crowning a champ. It’s chaos, it’s love, and it’s the start of our story, all wrapped in petals.
Roots of the Ritual
So, where did this floral frenzy come from? Buckle up for a history lesson with a twist. The Varmala traces back to ancient India—think Vedic vibes and epic love tales. In the old days, princesses held swayamvars, basically a royal “Bachelor” episode, where they’d pick their prince by tossing a garland over their chosen one. Remember Draupadi snagging Arjun with her mala skills? Or, Sita and Rama sealing the deal with flowers? Even Goddess Lakshmi garlanded Vishnu with lotuses during the cosmic churn of the ocean. This wasn’t just decor—it was a power move, a public “I choose you” that kicked off the wedding shindig.
Back then, garlands weren’t just pretty—they symbolised victory (varamala means “boon garland”) and love (jayamala means “victory garland”). Kings wore them after battles; couples swapped them to conquer life together. Fast forward to 2025, and it’s still the heartbeat of South Asian weddings—Hindu, Sikh, Jain, you name it—blending tradition with a modern twist.
Why It Matters
Okay, but why all the fuss over flowers? The Varmala’s more than a photo-op—it’s a vow in bloom. Those garlands—usually roses, jasmine, or marigolds—carry big feelings: happiness, beauty, and devotion. Is the thread tying them? That’s the promise to stick together, through burnt rotis and monsoon meltdowns. When Vikram and I swapped malas, it wasn’t just us saying “I do”—it was our families joining the party, lifting us (literally) into this union. It’s a two-way street of respect, acceptance, and a sneaky lesson: marriage takes teamwork, even if your squad’s playing defence.
Research backs this up—scholars say the Varmala’s roots in the Vedas highlight its role as a spiritual bond, not just a social one. In 2025, studies from cultural anthropologists note how it’s evolved—some couples now weave in cash or crystals for good luck—but the core stays sacred. It’s the first ritual after the groom’s arrival, setting the tone for the pheras and beyond.
The Fun Factor
Now, let’s talk real—the Varmala is peak desi drama. There’s this unwritten rule: whoever garlands first “wins” the upper hand in the marriage. Cue the hilarity. Vikram’s cousins turned it into a WWE match, hoisting him so high I needed a ladder. My team retaliated, and I’m pretty sure my brother pulled a muscle. Guests were placing bets, kids were giggling, and the DJ dropped “Sweetu” at the perfect moment. It’s not just a ritual—it’s a vibe, an icebreaker that melts wedding jitters into pure joy.
Across South Asia, it’s a playground of styles. In Punjab, it’s loud and proud with marigolds galore. Down south, jasmine rules, and Tamil Brahmin families serenade the couple while lifting them. Gujaratis? They’ll tease the groom ‘til he begs for mercy. It’s competitive, chaotic, and oh-so-fun—a tradition that says, “We’re in this together, but let’s mess with each other first.”
Making It Yours
Today, the Varmala’s getting a glow-up. Couples are ditching basic blooms for orchids, feathers, and even LED lights—because why not? Vikram and I went classic with roses and marigolds, but I’ve seen garlands with rupee notes (hello, prosperity!) or pastel vibes for that Insta aesthetic. It’s your love story—make it pop. Pro tip: match it to your lehenga or sherwani, and don’t skimp on the pics. Those mid-air garland shots? Gold.
The Bigger Picture
Looking back, the Varmala was our first dance as a team—literally and figuratively. Like Vikram’s green flags (shoutout to my last blog!), it showed we could laugh through the madness and lift each other—sometimes with help from rowdy cousins. It’s a tradition that’s lasted millennia because it’s more than flowers—it’s the start of a promise, a party, and a partnership. So, next time you’re at a wedding, watch that garland exchange closely. It’s history, heart, and a whole lot of halla, all in one.
