I spent the last two days at an Indian-Italian wedding in Old Greenwich, CT. The ceremonies were traditionally Indian, sprinkled in with some Italian flavor.
The other day, I learned of someone who is 28 and has been to 300 weddings. That seems somewhat impossible… But whatever. I’ve been to very few. Maybe I’m just not very popular. Instead of groaning and thinking ugh…it’s wedding season like many popular people, my reaction is more like, wow, someone likes me enough to want me to be part of one of their most special days. Cool!
OMG, oops. My flight to London is boarding! I guess I’ll be back in like 9ish or so hours.
* * *
I’m back. I slept more than I have in years. Anyway, back to the wedding…
Night 1: Mehendi, Sangeet, Food
The first night started with a mehendi session, where guests got to know each other while henna artists painted hands.
This was followed by sangeet dance and singing performances.
Indian and Italian food flanked either side of the room. Appetizers followed by dinner. Dancing all night long. I snuck out because I was not feeling well, thinking that I wouldn’t have been missed among the hundreds of other people there. I was wrong. The next morning when I walked into breakfast, the bride immediately asked where I had disappeared too. I was similarly interrogated by others. Yes, I am a bad person. K?!
Day 2: Breakfast, Ceremony, Cocktail Hour, and Reception
I probably should have thought twice before not brushing my teeth, throwing on my romper, and not looking in the mirror before heading down to breakfast. Right…this was meant to be a social breakfast! …because I am at a wedding and not anonymous on vacation by myself. Horrifying. I sat next to my friend the bride and a bunch of her other friends and prattled on making small talk in my Bali surfer chick garb.
“Is that a romper?” one girl asked. “Um, yes,” I responded. Full stop.
To my left was a youthful banker type. “Oh, what part of Goldman Sachs do you work in?” I asked while taking a massive bite of bacon with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of my eye with the other. I asked a bunch of other follow-up questions and ended the conversation with a statement about myself.
“Wow, that is so intense. If I do more than two things in a day, I’m exhausted.”
Dead silence.
At least I didn’t pull a d-bag move and talk about my own Goldman interviews like I’m pretending to be part of some club.
“Oh Goooolllldman. Yes…that West Street office is just ammmaaaaazing,” I imagined myself cooing and maybe name-dropping to see if we knew any people in common. (Shudders).
Instead, I just appeared interested yet clueless and chomped on bacon.
Turning to my right, I met a girl who had moved to London to work in a bar and eventually ended up in marketing for Duvel. She had previously worked at a baby food company in the U.S. I noted that she seemed extremely happy and jovial.
Another couple joined, one a clinician and her husband who headed up engineering for a tech company. They also seemed extremely happy. The hubby complained jokingly about designers and their hours of operation.
I tried not breathing on anyone and hoped that no one could tell I hadn’t showered, brushed my teeth, or did anything to my hair. Was the romper I was wearing even clean? Nope. I had been wearing it and had definitely drenched it multiple times throughout the course of the heat wave in NYC that has been going on for the past week.
Time to excuse myself.
Catatonic staring at the wall time ensued. Hours passed.
The ceremony started at 4:30pm and was long (1.5 hours) with many components, quite beautiful. There were prayers, rituals, a poem reading, and blessings. It started with a prayer to Ganesh, the Lord of Beginnings and Blocker of Obstacles. I love Ganesh and used to wear a little Ganesh around my neck.
Garlands were tied. All sorts of instructions were doled out by the person ordaining the ceremony. “No, step to the left. A little more. Slowly put this on. Slower.” I sat in the back wishing there was a Jumbotron and watched everyone sweating like crazy, swatting themselves with their wedding programs.
The couple made seven circles while repeating elements of their fidelity to each other. They then took their first seven steps of marriage, each with a spoken measure pronouncing their commitment.
Eventually, they filed out. I ran into them exiting by the elevators and was too shy to say anything. I think I waved wide-eyed like I had accidentally ran into the Queen of England. Are you supposed to talk to a queen? I think waving is okay. So I stood two feet away from them in silence silently and shyly waving. They really did look so regal. I was starstruck.
That night, I celebrated for the couple. I relished the speeches – laughing, crying, listening, and feeling as though I was part of the innermost circle and had lived their lives with them. I stuffed myself with Indian food piled high, ate cake and ice cream, sipped champagne, and danced. I really think dancing makes people happy.
The next day, I woke up feeling very free.
Some reflections on me
Weddings are ceremonious, momentous, and logistical by nature – an expression of love and an artifact for those getting married and their families. Inevitably, they make you reflect on your own relationships. Or if you’re in a state of blissful solitude like myself, it engenders a sort of gestalt-like moment.
Do I want a partner? When? Do I want to get married? Everyone else around me is coupled up. Am I old? But I feel so young!
There are many ways to live and be happy.
What determines how much I appreciate a wedding has very little to do with the logistics and fanfare. I truly love seeing the couple enjoy themselves and be happy…and be good together. Unfortunately, I’ve been to a few weddings where I questioned the union.
In this case, I am so happy for the beautiful couple. They are among the most balanced, truly good people I know. Blessings forever. I feel that this one is a unity for life.
In spite of the fact that I felt completely wretched due to heat and other physical things going on, I was able to celebrate with them. Seeing my friend walk down the aisle was special. I shed a few tears of joy. I got in a few dances as well.
I texted my psuedo-love/non-fiance in Bali to share in some of the romantic feelings I was feeling…a disappointing response. As happy as I was in the ballroom, when I came back up to my room in hopes of some communication with my faraway pseudo-love, I felt some sadness, acceptance, and a knowingness at least that I will find someone more right for me.
For now, all the blessings in the world to you, M&R. I wish you joy and an incredible journey through life together.
