> Credits

A Fortunate Accident

Irvine, California

July, 2005

Toronto native Harinder Sabharwal was attending the University of California at Davis on a tennis scholarship in 2001 when a serious automobile crash delayed his graduation. During that extra time at school, "I got rewarded by running into my wife," he said. "We wouldn't have met if it wasn't for my car accident."

Anshu Seth was initially standoffish when the two were introduced by college friends, but Harinder was undaunted. "I knew when I saw her that she may be the one for me," he confessed.

Three years later, Anshu was unsuspecting when Harinder took her to an Indian theater, even though the film's Hindu title translated to: "Will You Marry Me?" He coaxed her outside at intermission. "It was a beautiful evening," said Anshu, "and he proposed to me right outside the movie theater."

Anshu and her parents worked closely with Fiori Fresco Special Event Productions to plan the couple's marriage celebration. "It was a very elaborate Indian wedding," Anshu said of the three-day, four-event extravaganza that combined two religious traditions she is Hindu, Harinder is Sikh. Fiori Fresco owner Christopher Aldama and his team watched hours of Bollywood films and immersed themselves in research in preparation for their first Indian wedding.

Each event's color scheme was inspired by Anshu's attire, beginning with the black and gold Donna Karan gown she selected for Saturday evening's cocktail party at her parents' home in Irvine, California's Shady Canyon community.

Anshu envisioned an event that would keep the 300 guests circulating. This was accomplished not only through the layout of ice sculptures and ice bars, the array of champagnes to sample, and an amazing spread of finger foods prepared by the Shady Canyon Golf Club's catering staff, but through an engaging line-up of entertainment. Acrobats awed from high stages, and the group String Theory played tuned copper strings suspended across the lawn and attached to the second and third stories of the house.

For the Mehndi, or Henna Ceremony, held Sunday evening at the Shady Canyon Clubhouse, Anshu donned a yellow and orange lehnga made by her mother's sister. "My henna was done that morning; it was very elaborate," she explained. "It's meant to decorate the bride and make her look pretty."

The event featured traditional Indian cuisine and was staged to resemble an Indian festival. Fiori Fresco dressed four distinct areas in vivid dupioni silks: a dining terrace, a dessert terrace, an indoor dance floor, and an entertainment lawn. A guest told Aldama, "I haven’t been to India in thirty years. This is the first time I've felt like I was home."

Belly dancers and snake charmers mesmerized, and a band from India played traditional music. As is customary, the families also entertained each other. The women on Anshu's side danced for Harinder; his brothers sang for her.

As the Fourth of July dawned, a small ceremony, led by a Hindu priest, was held at the bride's home. Anshu was adorned with bangles, and relatives tied accents around her wrists to represent their blessings. Harinder and his family arrived mid-morning to begin the Bharat, a noisy, 45-minute procession. Traditionally, Indian grooms arrive on white steeds, but Harinder opted for the greater horsepower under the hood of a rented red Ferrari. Tradition dictates that the groom must remove his shoes before entering his betrothed's gate, and Anshu's nine bridesmaids set to the task of stealing them and holding them for ransom.

After breakfast, guests removed their shoes, covered their heads, and entered the two orange silk tents representing temples for the men and women. From the mandap, or altar, Harinder watched as his bride, dressed in a Punjabi suit created by Calcutta-based Monapali, made her procession along the 72-foot aisle graced with swags of roses and hydrangeas. "It looked like something out of a fairy tale," he said. After the traditional Sikh marriage ceremony, however, reality set in. He first needed to find his shoes Anshu's sister had hidden them beneath her dress and then negotiated their return, for the princely sum of $2,500.

After a buffet lunch, an emotional Anshu tossed rice over her shoulder for her family members to catch, a gesture that represents that the bride is "leaving her memories behind, and her good wishes." Harinder's brothers and friends then carried her off on an ornate dholi to the awaiting Ferrari.

The 400 wedding guests followed the newlyweds to The Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel, where they found the ballroom flowering with 4,000 phalaenopsis orchids and awash in shades of blue to match Anshu's Swarovski-crystal embellished gown. Sparkly fabrics were hand-appliqued to create a canopy of shimmering leaves. "The whole room just glistened, like an enchanted forest," Anshu recalled. Harinder used his samurai sword as the couple made a grand entrance, crashing through an eight-foot, gold-framed enlargement of their engagement photo. Harinder's brother, Pawan, sang Savage Garden's "Truly, Madly, Deeply," as the couple took the dance floor. Singers from India kept partygoers entertained until 4 a.m.

Anshu started chiropractic school soon after the wedding, so the couple deferred their two-week Australian honeymoon until December. Although their wedding celebration was spectacular, Anshu said their love is about "something little every day."

Harinder works as an engineer in the Silicon Valley, teaches tennis to children, and also owns a martial arts academy. "I love to teach," he said, and he cherishes Anshu's support. "She's somebody who sets me free; she's my best friend. Now I'm ready to do what I'm meant to do," he said. Although it ended his tennis playing career, Harinder knows he had a fortunate accident. Had he not been hospitalized, he would have been interning at Franklin Templeton's offices near the top of the World Trade Center's south tower on September 11, 2001. "My angel saved me," he said. "I'm probably one of the luckiest people on the planet. I'm very happy."