The wedding bells are ringing in almost all corners of the city and I have been practically running in my high heels from one wedding ceremony to another. Amidst the band baja, rituals and chaos, I noticed mere gestures that spoke volumes. I spied a father staring at an empty room full of packed suitcases. I watched a mother make the bride’s favorite pickle for the last family dinner. I saw a brother hug the bride. I laughed, as a sister made mean jokes the day the bride was to leave her home. I spotted a husband firmly hold his new bride as she balanced herself in her heavy bridal-wear. I witnessed a bride stare at a one-way ticket to America. These actions were enveloped with silence and yet could not conceal pure love.
And yes, there was celebration of love and new beginnings. All gathered, dressed in their best to congratulate and bless the newly weds as they embarked on a new journey together. We were no exceptions- salwar kameez, gown and sari. We were in character- Anarkali, Laila and Chamakchalo; ready to dance all night to Bollywood tunes.
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EC
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