Souvenirs précieux

In my earlier post, I had mentioned that I would be sharing some priceless moments of my life with you. As I wrote that line, many incidents sprung up in my mind. I’d be writing about all of them in the posts to come and they are not ordered in any specific fashion. This particular one is also part of the “people-leaving-my-life” routine. This person was/is/would be an important chapter in the book of my life. The person with whom I’ve shared more than a bike, room, bed, perhaps even a bathroom – Nithya. Ladies and gentlemen, I warmly welcome you to Nithya weds Krishnan.

Before actually going into the wedding, I’d like to rewind a little bit – well if you could call it little – to 2005 January. That was precisely when the groom search began. I’ve often wondered how it would feel to stand dressed for a couple of strangers who would project their son as the nicest man in the whole world; how it would feel to talk to HIM with all the skeptism^TM. The mega serial of searching lasted until January 2006 when things were finalized –the champion was adjudicated, the saga was scheduled and the arena was marked. It was decided, or perhaps destined, that HE would be the one taking my sister away from me.

The next few months were packed with endless shopping, organizing, planning, inviting and loads of talking. I thoroughly enjoyed the first part though. It was a festival at home.

I was surprised to see many heads coming forward – to prove their part rather – to “aid” in the event. I wonder how people, rather relationships, could be so hypocritical. With not much to comment (or not given a choice?) we marched forward. Day 1 had arrived. THEY had landed. As soon as we reached our room in the “colosseum”, I found strangers coming into our room to “have a look at” the object and objects at display. I decided to make a quiet exit. Her friends had come to spend the last few of her spinster moments with her. With the thought that she’d be more happy and comfortable with them and of course to give-in to the scramble for space, I decided to be with my cousins back at home. The wedding reception was a mere formality – feeding people, plastic-smiled photographs, and grabbing gifts. The sand had all trickled down and time had brought us THERE.

I was lying wide awake in my bed (floor rather), wondering, looking at the fan – it would all be over tomorrow. She’d be an entirely different person and miles away from me. The mere thought made me feel a lump in my throat. I looked around – my mother and aunt were sleeping blissfully. NO I thought. It happens in everyone’s life and FOREVER is never really true. NO - I don’t think anyone would ever have had a sister like mine – there was a battle between my senses – do I give in?? YES. And I cried. I cried until my mom began to tug at my feet asking me to wake up. “varalaya kalyaanathukku” (Aren’t you coming for the wedding?) she asked. I gave a bright smile which I decided to freeze in my face and mind – atleast to match the maatu kombu saree that I’d bought.

I got dressed and we started. My mom. She’s one woman who makes me wonder. I could feel the heaviness in her heart as we drove to the mandapam from our home. My dad was decked and done. After a series of rituals that were performed, the time for the event had come – the maangalya dhaaranam. She had just gone in to tie the madisaar. These would be last few moments she’d be just my sister – nothing more, nothing less. The dressing was over by now. She was ready – and I saw her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. There has always been this ego clash in my mind – I never tell her explicitly that she’s good at anything though I feel it. And there she was standing right in front of me. Do I tell her she looked beautiful?? She’d asked me a couple of times by the time I was debating within – I had to answer – and I did – “sumaara irukka dee” (you look moderate) – her face shrunk – I felt happy – cause there was someone to whom my opinion mattered and that someone was going to walk away. Do I hug her?? I wanted to. Miss. Ego was controlling me. Hell. I decided to overcome her and took a step forward – and there was my sister’s friend who did exactly what I wanted to. With one hell of an emotional overload, I retraced my steps – ashamed to show my tears – and ran to my mom. “chi po paithyam” she said as tears trickled down her eyes too. The mere warmth of her hand over my shoulder made feel light. And then on – all of us – on and off the dais would be united by one thought – hope for THEIR happiness.

She came and sat on our fathers lap like a little angel. Over a million flower petals, a thousand prayers and well wishers – over a hundred Gods showering their blessing them from above – in just ten seconds, the two families were united by three nuptial knots.

Hope they live happily ever after.

Cheers,
Hopie.

P.S. follow link to see photos!