We were asked to write and share about the most unforgettable
day of our lives in a writing forum. Not the most, but one of the "most unforgettable
days" of my life came to mind. But then, once it came, no other day
seems to surpass it in un-forgettability. I can’t even think of
any other day. So I am going to take Rumi’s
words to heart “Run from what’s comfortable.
Forget safety. Live where you
fear to live. Destroy your
reputation. Be notorious.” and go
forth.
Remembering
this day of my life is a bittersweet experience for me. Most people would recall their wedding day
with joy and nostalgia. Even those who
are separated or divorced may still have fond memories of this particular day
and hark back to it with a smile. I
however remember it with huge lumps of regret.
Of course there is much nostalgia around many aspects of it, one being
my great grandmother (who is so much a part of me, in me). There is a deeper
joy in some sense – this is the ‘sweet’ in the bittersweetness of the
experience, which comes out of the present reality and strength of the
relationship. But remembering that
particular day is an exercise of pain and regret.
Imagine
a young man of 27 years and a young woman of 24 years, in love and about to get
married.
Imagine
a man, giving and caring, looking out for every need of his partner. He is so
taken, that during the Kasi Yatra ceremony, said, “Look, hurry up and take me
to the girl, will you? I don’t want to go to Kasi!” (For the uninitiated, the Kasi Yatra is one
of the traditional rituals, especially in a Brahmin wedding ceremony. The story goes that in the “olden days”
Brahmin boys go away to their Guru’s house at a very young age, to stay and
study the Vedas and scriptures. This
would typically be in Benares (Kasi). So
the brother of the girl promised to him, would approach the boy and ask him to
stay back and marry the girl and they would ‘take care’ of him, and to not go
to Kasi now. Perhaps they undertake to
sponsor him, but I am not sure about this part.) But here was a man, refusing to take the few
ritualistic steps in the direction of Kasi in order to be called back to
wed. Instead, he kept turning towards
the stage saying “But I don’t want to go to Kasi. Enough already!”
I was
recounted this later. The girl is at this
point usually putting on her all her armour and war-paint to welcome her groom
and look suitably inviting while doing so.
So imagine a woman now, who refused to wear 99% of the war-paint,
refused to put on more than basic wedding gear (definitely no silk which is the
traditional thing to do), and said, “I am inviting as I am to my groom. I don’t
need any of this.” Imagine her confidence in him. And it all sounds really noble and
courageous, right? It would to the
environmentalists, and the naturalists and the minimalists. Or they would at the very least, they might
say, “Good. That’s the way to go.”
Oh, Woe!
Imagine now, how you would feel if you take down the wedding album to pass a
rainy day or show your daughter how it all happened, and the first things that
jump out at you is how sweat is pouring down your face and neck, and you look
absolutely ragged and nothing like a fresh and glowing bride that you have seen
in many wedding albums. It seems that
one’s friends, sister, and miscellaneous well-wishers were right. It’s the time of eating crow. “It’s just one day. A few hours. Wear some make-up, you will be sitting in front
of that fire. Some of this gloop will keep your face from pouring out…” All entreaties were in vain. And perhaps, you will call me vain to be
thinking of my appearance when deeper stuff about the day should be moving me. I would have called me vain. At that time.
Not today. Even if I did
momentarily, all I have to do is take a look at the photos, to recognise that
appropriateness is the key word that determines many things. Sigh!
Imagine
now, many of the in-laws looking at this girl that their boy has chosen and wanting
to get to know her. Imagine her
trepidation at feeling like being evaluated by strangers and having to accept
them as family. And imagine her out-lawing
them in all parts of her head. And this
playing out right there. The
sister-in-law (one of them) might or might not remember but the girl remembers,
that when the former came forward to help her with an intricate drape of the
sari (the 9-yards drape), she was snubbed by the latter. If first impressions make lasting ones, then
Ouch! Especially when now, imagine that it turns out that the sister-in-law is
not only actually human but someone to be admired. For many things including her parenting and
her smart ways and her unique idiom.
Imagine that she seems to have gotten over being outlawed initially and
comes forward with affection and dignity.
Double Ouch!
Imagine
then, a young woman so threatened and so much in guard that there she stood (or
sat), swords unsheathed, ready to attack anyone who came near her fort. Imagine her baring- oops, smiling at
unsuspecting guests who came to greet / congratulate the happy couple. Happy couple?!
Imagine
his consternation and concern, and his efforts to right his tilted universe
(for she had been that). Imagine her perceiving
a boyfriend as suddenly become a part of an outlaw family completely alien to
her, calling her to join the alienness.
Especially when now, there can be no one less alien to her, than him
(except herself). Another Ouch! is in
order.
And so
the day passed, as all things must, and do.
An unforgettable day of my life, when I made an utter cake of
myself.
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