I just attended a friend's wedding in Jamshedpur… and what can I say? If you took happiness and contentment in equal measure and whisked it up with glorious weather and blended in golden ribbons of serendipity…that would have been my trip.
There were happy ceremonies inside the home. Laughter and sunlight trickling in through lacy curtains. There were also huge lunches with the family and photographs shot for a lark during siesta time. And a beautiful Bengali wedding held in the garden at night. And lots of cups of steaming hot soups and excellent chocolate pies and creamed vegetables and mishti-doi and gulab-jamuns, and apple strudels with sweetened dollops of cream.
Then sneaking away to decorate the celestial bed with a young bridesmaid who had exceedingly deft fingers and very bright ideas. (She stunned me with her ability to spontaneously make wax beads to spread as dew-drops on flowers.) Of course, some ideas I was absolutely against – like putting papads under the sheets. But well, in the face of the cheeky enthusiasm of a twenty-year old, much wisdom pales away.
The perfect, sparkling end to all this gaiety, was the reception. It was held in a lovely club in the open-air. Everything was expansively decorated in peach, white, and gold. The foggy moonlight and wintry shine of the stars glinted off all these satin runners on the table and made it magical. Some of my favorite numbers played in the background, including Karma Chameleon. I’ve been besotted with that song ever since I first heard it.
Flowers so luscious, you could bite into them for dessert. And the moon…it was big. Big like a saucer. Like a white, icy stadium with a billion floodlights on. Like a child’s face shining with joy. Like a heart full of hope and love. That night was so elegant, you could imagine it painted on ivory silk, hemmed with pearls, and sprayed with perfume.
My friends individually are wilful, stubborn, wonderful. Both capable of stirring up storms wherever they go. And now, they were together. For life. And giddy-type of happy.
The night seemed to embrace its two difficult children warmly with such affection. These crazy kids who’d tamed the wind.