The last of the wedding Trilogy.

The three days went in a blur. There was a steady procession of colorful events with barely a breathing space in between. Dev dauk, seemanti, mangalashtak pheww. I had promised Ruchika that I would write a post daily. But each day I slept only at the crack of the dawn with barely enough energy to crash on the bed.

All that is left now is me, dada and bhabhi and a huge silence. All the guests have left. There is this one unwanted one left , fatigue. We are simply tired. Mentally as well as physically. Yugesh and I readily agreed that we are lucky that there is just one girl. If we had another one, he would have excused himself because of some unavoidable exam and I would have wringed my hands in helplessness citing some ticketing problem.

Today the gate of the house opens signaling the arrival of only contractors coming to collect the payment. No other visitor. We are busy cleaning. There are gifts everywhere.
We had named the wedding as ‘operation silk’. We wanted it to go as smoothly as possible.Sister did a remarkable job anticipating the rush of events. She had neatly packed and labeled each gift and then packed in gunny bags according to clans and cities. I was only left the job of a porter. As each guest left all we had to do was look at his name and the no. and hand it over to him.
She and brother had even got the whole plan of the rooms with the allotments ready. Hence there was no commotion at any given point of time. The entire event took place as smooth as ,ah well , silk.

Now we shall have to do the same with the gifts that we have received. They are overflowing.

As I was sitting in my room checking and replying to my long pending emails ( seventy hours! Well that’s the maximum they have ever been left unanswered.), I hear drums. The hijras , the eunuchs have come to collect their dues. My brother seems to be in a hurry to see them off. He hastily pays them whatever they asked. There are two groups of eunuchs in Bhopal , the somwar and the mangalwar. The don’t encroach on each other’s territory. In the north it is considered auspicious for the eunuchs to sing and dance in a newly wedded’s house. It brings in fertility. Ironic.

The newly wed couple have left for goa to seek the blessings of our kuldevta. Mangeshi, is the god of our clan.

Yugesh has left for Hyderabad. He is doing his internship there. He called up grinning wickedly that it feels like home. He always loved Hyderabad for the rich and diverse culinary varieties. For him home is where the good food is. What a sensitive boy! His charming friend had left a day before. Bhabhi still carried the hangover of the wedding and requested him to look after Yugesh. A red faced Yugesh commented, “ Mom ! he is my room mate not my senior. Looks like you are still in the bidaai frame of mind. I am not onal .”

A marriage is not just the union of two individuals but that of two families. We are fortunate. She has married into one of the most warm hearted and loving family. I judge people according to the etiquettes they display. I must say the entire baraatis displayed such remarkable good manners , we were simply bowled. A relative joked that they not only stole our girl but also our heart.
The youngsters made full use of the dance floor and the DJ. I too was dragged by them. But my embarrassing steps saw me out equally abruptly. No one's loss.

I made a lot of young friends. I see a lot of new adds in orkut and facebook.

There were some poignant moments. Although we are programmed not to display much emotions in public, I do feel a lump in the throat or a solitary tear does find its way out. My most difficult moment was when after the wedding solemnized and she sat with her new family for lunch and we go and fold our hands and request her as Mrs. Bhandare to begin lunch. I just stared numbly. When did my baby grow. Where is that roly poly bundle of energy wanting to visit the zoo everyday. What do I with the memories of taking her in a ‘tempo’ , that cramped elder brother of an autorickshaw, because she felt that it was a better vehicle than our car and eating in front of the lion’s den was more fun than eating on the dining table. Where is the girl who made such a scene when the frock brought on her birthday didn’t twirl and we had to immediately go and exchange it. Now who will roll her eyes in horror at her chachu's ignorance of movies.

But they make a charming couple. Rohan, dapper in his suit, has a very infectious and easy smile matched by onals. They are a treat for sore eyes. I cant get enough of them and so I check with them every half an hour if they want some water. I shouldn’t have worried. The young turks were always there.

The father in law came to me many times and assured me that things were going fine and not to worry. We shall adjust. We are family. Wow. What did we do in life to be blessed with such wonderful people. This is one of my favorite moments.
Ruchika, you were never missed. Because you were always there. Please educate me though. Two weeks in USA and yet you managed to call exactly when the wedding was solemnized. HOW? I always find the lines busy when I really need them. You are a doughty girl. Keep it up. Onal will always miss your exuberant presence.

when we visited Indore for their reception, i was told that many had saved mementos from them wedding.cards, the tiny cute pots with akshata to bless the newly weds with. why doesnt such ideas come to me. i get hold of a few cards from both families. nothing else!

The whole wedding is moving in front of my eyes like a kaleidoscope. But expressions fail me as my hands freeze on the keyboard. maybe I am overcome partly by fatigue and partly by emotions.
There are some moments that no camera can capture , no pen can ink.
They are there cocooned in the deepest crevices of my heart. But words fail me.
When emotions come in flood, the words are lost somewhere. Coherence goes out for a toss. And what we get is a rag tag post like this one.