The ancestral home buzzed with a glorious frenzy, every corner alive with raw energy that defines Indian wedding. The air hummed with a symphony of urgent whispers and clattering steel, a beautiful, organized chaos that only a bustling family affair could create.
"Anil! The shagun thali! Are you deliberately trying to make us late?" Sharda's voice, a familiar melody of exasperation, cut through the din. She flitted about, her silk sari a blur of motion as she supervised the transfer of the sacred offerings into the backseat of the rented, ribbon bedecked sedan.
Anil, her husband, barely looked up from where he was securing a loose end of fabric to the car door handle. "Sharda, the driver just got here! And stop worrying, we'll make it to the wedding hall with time to spare." He offrered a wry smile. "We can't have the groom's side waiting, can we?"
"Time to spare? The muhurat is in forty minutes!" she shot back, a furrow deep in her brow. "If you paid less attention to the car's decoration and more to the clock, we wouldn't be in this situation?"
Their daughter, Gauri, stood in the quieter sanctity of her bedroom, the mirror her silent confidant amidst the commotion. She took a deep breath, the rich fragrance of sandalwood and jasmine surrounding her. She adjusted the heavy gold necklace that lay against the vibrant red silk of her sari, the intricate work sparkling under the light. Every piece of jewellery, every fold of the fabric, felt like a silent blessing. She glanced out of the window, the world outside a whirlwind of colour and sound. She heard her father's low chuckle float up from the driveway, followed by a final, exasperated huff from her mother.
"Just drive, Rakesh, just drive!" Sharda commanded the driver, likely giving her husband one last, sharp glance. "If we're scolded by the elders, you will answer to them."
Gauri allowed herself a small, nervous smile. Everything was chaos, exactly as she expected. One last check in the mirror- yes, everything was fine. She braced herself, ready to join the beautiful pandemonium and step into the heart of the celebration, a picture of calm elegance amidst the joyous storm of her brother's wedding.
***
"Just drive faster, Rakesh! We're going to be late!" her mother, Sharda, exclaimed, gripping the edge of her seat.
"Sharda, relax, the wedding is at seven. It's only 6:15 now. We'll be there in good time," her father, Anil, countered his eyes focused ahead on the road.
"Good time? It's your son's wedding! Punctuality is everything!" Sharda fired back.
Their daughter, Gauri, sighed the repetitive squabbling a dull backdrop to the hum of the highway. Her gaze drifted out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of orange and white. "Will she be able to live without them?" the thought, a heavy stone, settled in her chest. Her parents, for all their bickering, we're fiercely protective, having shielded her from every minor discomfort. The very idea of an unfamiliar house, a life where their doting presence wasn't a given, brought a knot of anxiety to her throat. She closed her eyes briefly, pushing the unsettling thought aside. There was still time before her own wedding day; she wouldn't let the "what ifs" spoil her brother's moment. She decided to focus on the celebratory evening ahead, internally chanting,"It's all going to be fine," a mantra against the rising tide of uncertainty and the persistent "silly talk" in the car.
***
As they reach the wedding venue, her parents get busy in taking out things from the car. Sharda carefully lifted a heavy, ornate shagun thali from the car's trunk, it's silver surface gleaming in the afternoon sun. "Carefulwith the makhana box, it's delicate."
Anil was already negotiating with a distant aunt about the number of gift bags. "Auntie, these are for the groom's side, please don't mix them up!" he called out, his hands full with large, ribboned basket of fruits.
Gauri, meanwhile, stood a little apart, a typical introvert lost in the commotion. Her gaze drifted upwards towards the grand, brightly lit banquet hall. From this distance, the soft, melacholic strains of the traditional shehnai music drifted through air, creating a flutter in her already nervous heart. Just another event, she tried to tell herself, but her pulse quickened, a familiar anxiety creeping in. The normal introvert's apprehension of entering a large social gathering, a silent fear of being overlooked as always, of navigating the complex social currents of extended family.
Her eyes drifted towards a group of approching relatives, their animated chatter growing louder. A wave of social anxiety washed over her. Deciding a strategic retreat to a less conspicuous task was her best option, she awkwardly rushed to her parents' side, putting on a helpful facade.
"Let me help, Papa," she offered a little too quickly, reaching for a stack of neatly folded sarees, grateful for the mundane task that temporarily saved her from the inevitable greetings and forced smiles.
***
As the wedding commenced, the Pandit's mantras resonated through speakers strategically placed around the banquet hall, creating a serene and traditional ambiance. The groom, her brother seated before the sacred fire, watched the ritual unfold. Her parents, catching her eye, gestured urgently towards the bride's room, a silent plea for her to join them and meet her new sister-in-law.
Gauri, however, offered a soft, awkward smile and gently shook her head. 'You all go ahead,' she signed, a quiet refusal. 'I'll just stay here.' She knew the routine. Relatives, preoccupied with the day's joyous chaos, inevitably ignore her presence, making her feel like an invisible observer. Her introverted nature made her uncomfortable in large, bustling crowds, and she preferred the quiet solitude of her chair while the extended family talked excitedly and rushed about, helping bring items the Pandit needed.
The hall buzzed with the soft, joyous murmuring of guests. Somewhere, deep down, she knew she should offer assistance at her brother's wedding. Yet the thought of navigating the social intricacies and the sheer nervousness of potentially causing problem in the carefully planned event held her rooted in the seat, a silent figure amidst the celebratory flurry.
***
Shagun thali: Auspicious Platter
Muhurat: Auspicious Time
Makhana: Lotus seeds
Shehnai: Clarinet
***
To be continued❤