We all know that weddings have got more expensive but you are all taking the complete and utter p*** out of us now.

You know you are. Once Asians discovered bling they went mental.

If we aren’t blinging the heck off the cars we are blinging the stage.

And all of this costs money my friends. Cash, paisa, Taka...call it what you want.

It was pretty easy back in the day, you turned up and threw a necklace made up of rupees on the fellows head and everyone thought you were a proper Chaudhry. The whole thing cost ten pence.

If you wanted to really splash out you sat there and threw rupee after rupee in the grooms direction. Again...ten pence worth.

Then we decided it was would be a good idea to actually pay the couple. A tenner was sufficient.

Then it was all about “no boxed gifts and cash”. Which kutah kameenah came up with that idea?

What is wrong with a Woolworth’s tea set or some red kaprah (cloth) with gold trimmings?

Like most things in life the price went up. Now, the minimum amount is £20 – anything less and they laugh at you.

But then again £100 isn’t out of the question if you know the ******* family.

The £20 quid minimum came in when we switched from serving food ourselves to booking the restaurants.

This was the biggest change in the history of Asian weddings.

Now, when you put family on the card, it means dishing at least £15 per head. So what do people do? They cross off the family bit.

They do this because they know that when we see “family” on the card we are likely to invite all our relations, our friends, their friends and their relations.

We might as well get full value for our £20.

Once you have gorged on the lamb, chicken and biryani you have to line-up and pay the guy with the black book who now comes in English and desi versions.

Both men sit there like some gangsters noting down who has paid what. One place had a credit card machine.

I saw a couple of folk who headed for the exit as soon as the food was finished. The rest of the respectable men must stand in the cash queue.

Every so often a fellow pulls out a tenner and the black book man says, “So, dus pawned.”

Then I step forward. I stand there and look into the eyes of black book man and pull out a fiver... my Shaadi fiver.

Go **** yourself.