By Rihaab Mowlana

Because love isn’t the only thing in the air - drama, judgment, and badly thrown bouquets are too.

There’s nothing quite like a Sri Lankan wedding. It’s not just a celebration - it’s an epic. A multi-day affair wrapped in lace, ritual, gold jewellery, and very strong opinions from people you’ve never met. And it doesn’t matter if you’re at a poruwa ceremony, a nikah, a kalyanam, or a church wedding - you are not leaving unscathed. Whether you’re the cousin summoned last minute, the ex invited “by accident,” or just here for the buffet (no judgment), this guide is your survival kit through it all.

1. The Dress Code Is: Your Reputation Depends On It

There’s no real theme. And yet somehow, if your saree border doesn’t match your clutch, if your lehenga looks “too flashy”, or if your outfit isn’t “modest enough”  - you’ll still hear the whispers. Your outfit is your first impression, your personal PR campaign, and your shield.

Bring backups. Yes, plural. And safety pins. So many safety pins.

Pro tip: Aunties have 20/20 fashion vision. They’ll spot a misplaced bindi, a crooked headscarf, or a rogue jacket button from across the ballroom - and smile sweetly while mentally noting it.

2. RSVP? More Like RS-Who-Cares.

Be prepared for an attendance ratio that defies mathematics. The invite said 500 guests, but somehow 700 show up. The poruwa might have room for 30 people... but 85 will crowd around. At a church wedding, every pew will magically seat double capacity. And at a nikah, kids you don’t even recognise will be fighting for seats closest to the cake table.

Your table? Originally for eight. Now squeezing eleven. Biriyani plates will be balanced dangerously on laps. It’s a team sport. You’ll be passing cutlery like it’s a trust exercise. And when you finally get to the buffet, the best dishes have already vanished.

3. You Will Be Hunted (By Photographers)

Not by love. Not by fate. By the uncle or the dude with a Canon camera and zero chill.

You blink, and suddenly you're in your twelfth poruwa photo... or awkwardly lined up outside the church, bouquet thrust into your hands. At a nikah, you’ll be forced into a group shot while awkwardly holding a plate. You were promised canapés. You've smiled so much, your cheeks are cramping.

And just when you finally manage to grab a bite, someone will capture your most candid wedding moment yet - mouth wide open, halfway to stuffing rice into your face. Congratulations. It’s now immortalised in someone’s wedding album.

4. The Buffet is a War Zone - Choose Your Weapons Wisely

You’ve trained for this. Elbow out. Plate steady. Move fast. Prioritise meat and seafood over salad. And never, ever make eye contact with the guy in the batter fried prawns queue. That’s how they distract you.

5. Auntie Inquisition: Level Expert

You will be asked:
“So when are you getting married?”
“What are you doing these days?”
“Why are you wearing lipstick like that?”

Smile. Nod. Say “soon.” Then flee to the dessert table like your life depends on it. Because, in many ways, it does.

6. The Dance Floor is a Trap

It begins innocently: a saxophone cover of a Celine Dion classic. But within minutes, baila explodes from the speakers. A papare trumpet sounds. That uncle you’ve avoided all evening is suddenly in front of you, thrusting with abandon. You have two choices: run, or surrender to the rhythm. There is no third option.

7. You Will Cry

At the couple’s vows.
During the first dance.
As the groom joins the bride on stage and lifts the veil. 
When the thali is tied.

But mostly, when you realise your heels are cutting off your circulation, your blouse hooks are digging into your ribs, the speeches haven't even started, and there are still three more hours to go.

Final Advice? Arrive Hungry. Leave with a Full Heart

Sure, it’ll be chaotic. Yes, there’ll be unsolicited advice, a buffet battle, and at least one regrettable baila move. 

But underneath all the drama and the glitter and the noise, Sri Lankan weddings - no matter the religion - are something rare: a wild, beautiful celebration of love, family, friendship, and fierce, messy joy.

You’ll leave tired. Maybe a little sore. But you'll also leave with a full stomach, a full camera roll, and - if you let yourself - a full heart too.

Badge of honour: unlocked.
Panadol: still available in your mum’s handbag.