Rush hour commuters in the capital cope with street weddings - along with everything else.[By Mayank Austen Soofi]They emerged from the five-star Ambassador Hotel a few hours after sunset. The handsome groom, turbaned and dressed in a cream-colored sherwani, climbed onto a white mare. Like a warrior-prince of yesteryear, he would ride to claim his bride: along with an entourage of uncles, aunts, cousins and well-wishers.A band of professional musicians led the baraat - the wedding procession. Starched uniforms clung unnaturally to their slender bodies. Their sunken cheeks blew air into saxophones to produce ear-splitting Bollywood chartbusters. The entire party was surrounded by miserably-clothed laborers carrying stylish lamps on their thin shoulders. These lamps were powered by a noisy generator