The weekend opened outdoors with an unconventional ice breaker: Sports Day on the lawns. Guests arrived in Team Bride and Team Groom T-shirts for tug-of-war and lemon-and-spoon races. The point was less competition than a collapse into conversation. A Pimm’s session followed before everyone dispersed to reset.
As evening set in, guests gathered on the lawns for the mehendi. Pink and orange textiles, Indian folk music and food stalls filled the space. Small details were handed out as keepsakes, including potlis, bangles and pocket squares flown in from Pune. As the light dropped, dhols signalled a shift indoors. The ballroom had been arranged with the dance floor at the centre and seating wrapped tightly around it, avoiding the distance created by a raised stage. Performances unfolded in close quarters. A choreographer based in Pune had rehearsed friends and family over video calls across time zones, blending Bollywood routines with English pop classics. Garba sticks were passed around and the steps were taught on the spot.
The following morning began with Rishi’s baraat, led by dhol beats and Bollywood tracks through the grounds. An autorickshaw joined the procession, his only specific request. “That detail sent Damini and her team on a full hunt across London,” May laughs. “But it had to happen.”
The Vedic ceremony took place beneath a floral mandap, accompanied by live sitar, tabla and flute performed by musicians from The Bhavan. A priest from The Bhavan led the ceremony. Each guest was given a printed card explaining the rituals and their meaning. May’s family welcomed Rishi with a tilak and the playful gesture of tugging his nose. May entered wearing an Anita Dongre lehenga, accompanied by verses from the Tulsi Ramayana. Lunch followed with regional Indian dishes from Gujarat, Rajasthan and Sindh, catered by Ragasaan.
Later, the same space was reset for the civil ceremony. A floral arch replaced the mandap. Champagne followed, then a sit-down wedding breakfast. The shift was marked by pace. “We didn’t want it to feel like two separate weddings,” they say. “Just a change in tone.”
Personal details were embedded throughout. The invitation arrived as a newspaper-style newsletter titled The Crumble Chronicles, named for their dog, who couldn’t be present. It included a crossword, a weekend itinerary, a note from the couple and anecdotes about South Lodge. Reception tables were named after shows the couple had seen together at the Edinburgh Fringe, each with a short printed review.
