Finally, today I begin a series of stories from Vidarbha.
But before I begin, a quick question—did you read my last article? If not, I’d highly recommend doing so, because this piece is an extension of that thought.
Someone once said, if you disconnect from your roots, you disconnect from yourself.
Although I was born and brought up in Amravati, I didn’t truly know Vidarbha. I had been a hostelite since the 6th standard, always away—physically present, but culturally distant. Ironically, it took weddings—my sister’s and my brother’s—for everything to come together. Food, people, culture, traditions… all of it revealed itself slowly, beautifully.
Weddings have a way of doing that.
My grandfather was a very well-known person in the region, and because of him, our family carried a quiet influence. People from all castes, religions, and even distant ethnicities attended my brother’s wedding. My grandfather is no more, but his friends—men he cherished like his own brothers—stood there with tears in their eyes, remembering him. That moment stayed with me.
He once said to me, “Bali, you should have been a boy.”
Back then, I didn’t understand what he meant.
Now, I do.
But more about my grandfather some other time.
For now, let me tell you about my shopping experience in Amravati—because a wedding doesn’t begin with a shehnai. It begins with shopping. And if the wedding is in Amravati, it begins at Busyland—where patience is tested, bargaining is an art, and culture walks shoulder to shoulder with chaos.
If you want to understand Vidarbha, don’t visit museums.
Visit Busyland during wedding season.
The moment you enter, your senses surrender. Colours everywhere—bright nauvari sarees, shimmering blouses, stacks of bangles clinking like background music. Voices overlap, scooters squeeze through impossible gaps, and yet somehow, everything works.
My brother and I, both working professionals, barely had time. Everything was last minute. We were overwhelmed—too much to buy, too little time. And then, amidst the hustle-bustle, one voice brought me comfort.
“गडबडीतच सगळं नीट होतं.”
An elderly man said this, dressed in all white—kadak ironed topi, dhoti, bandi, and a white dupatta, finished with an orangish tika.
That’s exactly how my grandfather used to dress.
I looked at him, smiled, and continued shopping with a quiet sigh—everything was going to be fine.
Shopping That’s Never Just Shopping
Wedding shopping here is never a solo task; it’s a family project. Since my sister’s family lives in Amravati, they joined us too. Elders carried mental lists passed down generations. Women touched fabrics as if reading stories written in thread. The younger ones carried bags proudly, knowing they were part of something bigger.
You don’t need a stylist or wedding consultant here. Shopkeepers are not strangers—they are unofficial wedding planners.
“हा रंग लग्नात शोभतो.”
“विदर्भात नवरी अशीच दिसते.”
“हे घे, टिकेल.”
There’s no flashy marketing, no forced politeness—just familiarity and confidence built over decades. One shopkeeper summed it up perfectly:
“उगाच गोड बोलून काय उपयोग, काम पक्कं पाहिजे.”
Markets That Reflect the Land
Busyland feels honest because Vidarbha itself is honest.
This region, known for its oranges, teaches a particular rhythm of life—slow growth, uncertain rains, and unwavering hope. You see that reflected in the market. Everyone understands what it means to earn with effort. Many families shopping here are directly or indirectly connected to farming. Someone’s father still checks crop prices every morning. Someone’s uncle comes straight from the farm before opening his shop.
And in some strange way, everyone knows everyone.
Vidarbha farmers don’t romanticise hardship—they live it. And that practicality reflects in weddings too. Spend where it matters. Save where it doesn’t.
Although Ashirwad is a large shopping plaza, I’d honestly recommend skipping it and exploring smaller shops instead. For sarees, Siddhivinayak has an amazing collection at reasonable prices—I bought a Mulan Paithani for my boss from there, and even Navneet Rana chose the same combination for her friends from the same shop.
For men’s wear, Sehra has a better collection than Ashirwad. And for everything else—imitation jewellery, fetas, wedding decorations, pooja items—Saji Dhaji is a must-visit.
Oranges, Seasons, and Celebrations
Even during wedding chaos, Vidarbha never forgets its identity. Oranges quietly enter conversations, gifts, and logistics.
These aren’t casual questions. They’re emotional check-ins. The orange isn’t just fruit—it’s livelihood, pride, and resilience packed into bright skin.
Busyland thrives because farms survive. And farms survive because people here don’t give up easily. That endurance flows into celebrations—grounded, meaningful, never wasteful.
Food Stops That Keep You Going
Between shops, hunger strikes suddenly—and Busyland responds instantly. A plate of tarri poha, eaten standing, with sambhar of opinions flowing freely. Someone suggests another shop. Someone remembers a forgotten item. Plans change mid-bite.
Food here isn’t about aesthetics. It’s fuel.
And Vidarbha knows—“पोट भरलं की डोकं चालतं.”
More Than a Market
By the time shopping ended, my legs ached, my hands were full, and my voice was tired. Yet, my heart felt strangely satisfied.
You bump into old acquaintances. Share smiles with strangers. Everyone is rushing, yet no one feels alone. In that chaos lies community.
And suddenly, you realise—the wedding has already begun.
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