Last I visited Mysore was when I was one year old. I obviously had no memories of the place, but for a few pictures in the family album. And then came the news of a wedding there. Everybody was going. You know, my big fat extended Punjabi family? Everybody.
Three of us female cousins are the same age, born on the 3rd of a different month of the same year. Stuthi, the bride in question here, is the middle one. This was big news! Me and the other one, Nidhi were excited. But ultimately Nidhi couldn’t make it and I travelled alone.
I missed an exciting function, had a delayed flight from Delhi, the night in Bangalore was unexpectedly cold, the train to Mysore was obnoxiously delayed, and I dragged myself all the way with fever and cold.
But to cut the long story short, the bride looked gorgeous, all of us ate a lot and obsessively clicked pictures of ourselves, we went on a long drive towards Coorg the following day, and like at all typical family gatherings, laughed a lot.
Watching her walk towards her fiance, I figured a lot of things that I would and would not want at my wedding. I cannot bear to have lights flashing in my face and hundreds of people staring at me. I don’t think I will let that happen. If and when time comes to it.
|I saw, I climbed, and I conquered.|
Add-ons: Got to meet and spend time with Saikat and Rohini. And tasted authentic Mysore pak.
While a lot of weddings keep flashing on Facebook, I think this is going to be the year of weddings in my immediate circle. Next up, Mangalore!