The Icebreaker
Midway through the trivia round, the seven people seated at table number 5 (including me) started wondering if the buzzer was working; no matter how quickly we pressed the buzzer, a different group beat us to it every time. Conspiracy theories ran amok and frowns descended upon our faces.
Next was the film round. We repositioned the buzzer closer to Chaitanya and Devang (names changed) who were confident about their knowledge of film trivia.
We knew the answer to the question, “Which was the first Indian film?” and hit the buzzer. No luck. From the back of the room, the team that buzzed first responded with “Harishchandrachi Factory.” Wrong answer!
The question passed to us. Eagerly Devang shouted, “Raja Harishchandra!” Correct answer. Fist bumps all around. We were on the board.
The trivia rounds were part of an icebreaker for Marathi youth attending the Bruhan Maharashtra Mandal (BMM) convention from June 27-30 at the San Jose Convention Center. It featured big-ticket events like interviews with eminent Maharashtrian politician Raj Thackeray, an ensemble performance titled Abhangawaari led by Mahesh Kale, talks, and networking events. But BMM’s youth volunteers also planned ice-breakers and a speed-dating event specifically for younger Maharashtrian immigrants, and second and third-generation Maharshtrian-Americans.
Marathi Trivia, Spaghetti, and Marshmallows
More than a hundred people packed a room buzzing with chatter – some in English, some in Marathi – as attendees gathered for the icebreaker event on the second day of BMM 2024. A room that seemed spacious a few minutes ago was less so now.
Bay YUVA, a group of 50-60 volunteers formed as an offshoot of the larger BMM committee, were the brains and the muscle behind these events. Volunteer Rathin Deshpande from Sunnyvale told me that the team spent close to two years curating a roster of events to attract young Maharashtrians to BMM 2024.
“As you might have seen around here at the convention, the general age group is 40 plus,” said Deshpande. “The idea is that if you want to run an organization, you need younger people to chip in.”
As the room filled up, people were split into groups of six or seven, and directed towards different tables. The six participants at my table came from all over the country – Simmy and Shaunak from Michigan, Nina and Ishanee from Los Angeles, Chaitanya from the Bay Area, and Devang from Atlanta.
“I moved here (to the U.S.) about seven years ago, and I’ve been trying to get to know the roots that we already have here,” said Devang, who is originally from Nagpur in Maharashtra. “I am looking forward to making some new friends,” he said. This was his first BMM convention, unlike everyone else at the table who had been to at least one other convention, either in New Jersey (2022) or Anaheim (2015).
After a brief round of introductions, the first icebreaker event was to design and construct a tower using marshmallows and uncooked spaghetti sticks. Despite erecting a formidable tower that stood at over 21 inches, we did not win. Nor did Devang and Chaitanya’s strong showing in the trivia take our team to the top. Instead the ice-breakers ended with handshakes, exchanging numbers and anticipation of the speed dating event that was to follow.
Back at our table, one girl offered her seat to another who had not registered for the speed dating event: “My dad signed me up for it. He doesn’t know that I have been dating someone at college for the past six months!”
Speed Dating – Not Even Standing Room
Earlier in the day, I watched a more traditional matrimonial event called Reshimgaathi, where parents of eligible men and women mingled with other parents, exchanging pleasantries and contact information. While the room was full of parents, no men and women of marriageable age were present. At the time, I wondered where they were.
A few hours later, as the queue outside the speed dating event got longer, I had my answer. Aditi Vaidya, one of the two Bay YUVA heads told me that speed dating events are increasingly a common fixture in conventions like this one, and that the demand for this event was higher than expected; despite capping registrations at around 120, dozens more were waiting in line in case anyone dropped out.
When I asked Vaidya about the older generation’s reaction she said, “They are so impressed that they are jealous about not being able to attend this event!”
Vaidya’s co-Lead Nihar Patwardhan saw the exuberant response as a vindication of the volunteers’ efforts over the past few months.
“It’s giving people a platform to meet each other to connect with each other,” he said. “Especially after COVID, we feel like people have distanced themselves so much.”
He hoped that the icebreakers, speed dating, and other events like a fashion show, a dance workshop, and other informal hangouts during BMM 2024 would lay the groundwork for a thriving community of Marathi youth in the Bay Area, much like the last time the convention was held here in 1999.
“The community we have at this BMM is because of what happened in ‘99,” he said. “So we’re hoping to at least get a fraction of that and keep this going because the folks you see here today are the ones who are going to attend the next BMM here 25 years from now!”
A Picture of Human Connection
At the speed dating event, men and women aged between 18 to 35 sat facing each other, split into rows according to their age. The excitement and nervous energy in the room was palpable.
“It’s definitely a vulnerable place to be in because you’re putting yourself out there,” said Gauri Joshi, originally from Pune but living in Dallas, Texas. “I have lived here for seven years now, and I have met a lot of people from different ethnicities but I have clicked the most with other Marathi people. So I have friends from all parts of India, but for a partner, I definitely want a Maharashtrian or Marathi-speaking person.”
Once the emcees counted down the seconds to its official start, the room spontaneously filled with chatter as couples started talking in earnest. Each person only had seven minutes to make an impression on their partner before the men moved one place to the left, creating new pairs.
Walking through the room, I caught stray snippets of conversation as the couples exchanged biographical information, food preferences, and even touched on deeper subjects like relationship deal-breakers.
At the end of the seven minutes, every woman wrote down a message for the man they had just spoken to, sealed it in a small envelope, and handed it over – a decision slip if you will. Over the next two hours, the decibel levels in the room remained pretty constant, save for a few seconds of shuffling between chairs every seven minutes.
There is no way of knowing how many connections made during the ice breakers will develop into friendships, or how many numbers exchanged during the speed dating event will turn into meaningful romantic relationships. But amid the hustle and bustle of volunteers, the frenzied attempts to build pasta towers and the constant buzz of men and women chatting for two whole hours, there emerged a heartening picture of genuine human connection.
After the forced isolation of the pandemic, the generation that came of age in that period has shaken off the social rust accumulated over months of forced lockdown. And they are doing just fine!