We jostle through the night streets on a three wheeled auto rickshaw hitting bumps like ping pong balls and bouncing off in unpredictable directions. My neighbor is yelling at me directions and the lights of oncoming traffic glistens off her few teeth. Her youngest son grins from the front where he is eating up the ride like a puppy with its ears to the wind with lips whiffling behind. The auto driver is barely able to contain his smile as Auntie once again says where we are going and her disgruntledness over the route we are taking. I figure I'm paying so I'm choosing. She is not happy and berates my lack of warm clothes to let me know her unhappiness with me. Different.
We arrive and squish ourselves out of the auto, like toothpaste being squeezed at the middle of the tube. I am at the wedding of a friend's daughter. What a wonderful occasion. This lovely widow's daughter is finally getting married. What joy. The fact that it she is marrying her first cousin is of no concern because he is the son of his wife's to be mother's sister. Confused yet. Here it is as plain as I can put it, Son and Daughter of Brother and Sister respectively cannot marry but Son and Daughter of Sister and Sister are free to marry. Different.
I sat. I answered all the usual questions. I did not expect to have any deep conversations. It is busy, bustling and booming. No depth here just party, party, party. Finally we climbed the stairs to see the bride. She had just finished the marriage ceremony. In the presence of a room full of female witnesses and a religious leader, mullah, she stated her intention to marry. There was no groom. He hadn't arrived yet. He wasn't expected till later. Different.
A group of ladies and I got caught on the steps as the Mullah and his entourage passed. We squished into the corner and pulled our duputtas up. Then taking off our shoes we jammed into an already crowded room where we sat next to the sobbing, completely covered bride. I know the traditions. I sat in close to the bride. It was my time. She sobbed loudly as I plopped down. Her aunt (different than her mother-in-law to be) whacked her open handed across her back. Different.
"Shut Up!" she barked.
"Stop Crying," another aunt commanded.
I knew I was supposed to throw in my two cents but I just couldn't do it.
"It is hard." I said softly to the bride. "I am sorry." I said looking at her mother who would be daughterless soon and had no sons to care for her in her old age.
The best comfort to be given according to my language helper is to say, "Everybody one day has to go." This is an almost direct quote. In spirit it means everyone has to bear this. Said in a room full of women, in a culture where singleness is not an option, it is true. Grin and Bear it girl 'cause we all have to face leaving home one day. We all have to marry. We all have to go the way of marriage. Words perhaps more useful at a funeral. Different.
So here is the verse I memorized yesterday after this wedding for the wedding we have tomorrow, and the wedding three days from now both of which I will be attending.
"Blessed are those that mourn for they will be comforted."
Words of truth spoken by the Honorable Jesus Christ.
Marriage is sweet. Sin is not. Two sinners married can be sweeter than mango lassi on a hot day sipped in the shade with friends. For those women sitting in the crowded room, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder marriage is just what is, what will be, what will always be. A great sadness for which comfort cannot be spoken. This lovely bride wept. I wept. And I went home to my Hubster thankful.
We arrive and squish ourselves out of the auto, like toothpaste being squeezed at the middle of the tube. I am at the wedding of a friend's daughter. What a wonderful occasion. This lovely widow's daughter is finally getting married. What joy. The fact that it she is marrying her first cousin is of no concern because he is the son of his wife's to be mother's sister. Confused yet. Here it is as plain as I can put it, Son and Daughter of Brother and Sister respectively cannot marry but Son and Daughter of Sister and Sister are free to marry. Different.
I sat. I answered all the usual questions. I did not expect to have any deep conversations. It is busy, bustling and booming. No depth here just party, party, party. Finally we climbed the stairs to see the bride. She had just finished the marriage ceremony. In the presence of a room full of female witnesses and a religious leader, mullah, she stated her intention to marry. There was no groom. He hadn't arrived yet. He wasn't expected till later. Different.
A group of ladies and I got caught on the steps as the Mullah and his entourage passed. We squished into the corner and pulled our duputtas up. Then taking off our shoes we jammed into an already crowded room where we sat next to the sobbing, completely covered bride. I know the traditions. I sat in close to the bride. It was my time. She sobbed loudly as I plopped down. Her aunt (different than her mother-in-law to be) whacked her open handed across her back. Different.
"Shut Up!" she barked.
"Stop Crying," another aunt commanded.
I knew I was supposed to throw in my two cents but I just couldn't do it.
"It is hard." I said softly to the bride. "I am sorry." I said looking at her mother who would be daughterless soon and had no sons to care for her in her old age.
The best comfort to be given according to my language helper is to say, "Everybody one day has to go." This is an almost direct quote. In spirit it means everyone has to bear this. Said in a room full of women, in a culture where singleness is not an option, it is true. Grin and Bear it girl 'cause we all have to face leaving home one day. We all have to marry. We all have to go the way of marriage. Words perhaps more useful at a funeral. Different.
So here is the verse I memorized yesterday after this wedding for the wedding we have tomorrow, and the wedding three days from now both of which I will be attending.
"Blessed are those that mourn for they will be comforted."
Words of truth spoken by the Honorable Jesus Christ.
Marriage is sweet. Sin is not. Two sinners married can be sweeter than mango lassi on a hot day sipped in the shade with friends. For those women sitting in the crowded room, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder marriage is just what is, what will be, what will always be. A great sadness for which comfort cannot be spoken. This lovely bride wept. I wept. And I went home to my Hubster thankful.
Here I am in an all Ladies' Area with two teenage relatives of the Bride and my neighbor.
Two Family Members of the Bride. My Friend on the right side is called Doll.
It is her love name, nickname, only name that is used.
She is Lovely and Sweet with two daughters and
no sons as of yet which is the great sadness of her life.
Here Comes the Groom
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