My elder sister's wedding was the first in our family for my generation. As the eldest girl of the house, and the first one to be married, she was going to have the grandest wedding my town had ever seen. Her husband to be was tall, dark and handsome, the stuff of romance novels and since the day her marriage had been fixed, she was aglow with happiness. I felt nice seeing my sister like that, happy and contented with the situation.
The days before the wedding, a lot of our relatives started arriving at our ancestral house until it seemed like our big house was filled to the brim with relatives and their children. I was asked to give up my room to accommodate the invasion and was ordered to sleep with my sister, who I called Didi. As a result of being in the same room, we talked late into the night with each other before sleeping. As my Didi was elder to me by a few years, we were not too close or open with each other, but those few days before the wedding changed all that. I felt closer to her than ever, sharing her room and her confidences about her future and gossiping with her about different relatives.
The marriage festivities went on in full swing, noisy and boisterous. The Indian wedding is a cultural and religious phenomenon, where not just the groom and the bride, but whole families come together socially. It was the same in Didi's wedding. As I already said, all our relatives from various parts of India had descended on us and the guest list for the wedding itself was about a 1000 people.
The noise level was crazy within the house. The atmosphere in the house was one of celebration. Our days and most of our nights also were spent in noisy fun, dancing, teasing and revelling with so many people close together. Always there were songs playing. It was the colourful, noisy atmosphere of a house that had a wedding approaching.
As we drew nearer to the date, the functions began. We had the sangeet, where we danced until we were tired, and then the mehndi ceremony, where we applied henna on each other's hands. Finally, the day before the wedding arrived, and with it, the haldi ceremony. It was the ritual in which ladies applied a paste of chandan (sandalwood), haldi (turmeric) and rosewater to the bride to make her beautiful for her wedding day.
Before this, Didi had been having regular treatments of mehndi in her hair or facials and scrubs in beauty parlours, so she was already glowing, but this was the day when according to tradition, she would be lovingly massaged with the special paste by all the ladies in the house. It was a fun occasion where ladies also teased a bride about preparing her body for her groom.
The night of the haldi ceremony, Didi was wearing a plain white sleeveless salwar kameez. She was placed on a small raised stool, her salwar was pushed up over her knees and the fun began. Each lady came up to her, took the paste in their hands and smeared it on her face, neck, hands and feet. Most of the ladies also took some liberties, naughtily dipping their hands inside her neckline a little and rubbing the paste there or pushing their fingers under the cover of her salwar and rubbing her thighs. Some even whispered into Didi's ears, making her blush. As Didi had her hands and legs covered in the stuff, she couldn't bat their naughty hands away but just wriggled. It was all in good fun.
When all of the ladies had finished smearing her with the paste, we started to get together for dancing. Didi was required to sit with the paste for about an hour to let it improve her complexion.
That day we danced so much that I felt tired and giddy and it was early morning by the time we all wound down and went to bed. Didi and I went to our room and Didi had a bath before coming to the huge bed where we would sleep. She came and lay down next to me and sighed happily. In two days she would be married.
She turned and cuddled up to me, holding me in her arms like she used to do when I was a small baby and she used to take care of me.
"Babli, I will miss you," she said, emotional for the first time since the wedding festivities had begun. Usually she looked forward to her life with her husband, not thinking of leaving our family afterwards. But this time I felt her genuinely think about going to another house.
I wanted to soothe her thoughts. She should be happy, not melancholy about leaving.
"Didi, just think about how nice it will be your in-laws house," I said. "You have such a handsome and sweet bridegroom waiting for you. I am sure you will forget all about us as soon as he holds your hand to take you away," I said, teasing.
She slapped me on my upper arm lightly. "You are getting too naughty," she remarked.
"But you agree that Jiju is handsome?" I asked her, still teasing.
She smiled and turned away from me, lying on her back.
"I hope he likes me," she whispered.
"Why won't he like you? You are so beautiful, slim and fair. You are everything a guy could want," I told her.
And it was the truth. My Didi was the most beautiful among our generation. God had definitely bestowed her with the best looks from both my father and mother. She had long, beautiful black hair that fell to her waist, light brown eyes and a sweet heart shaped face. Her features were delicate and so were her hands and feet. As I already said, she was slim and fair too. There was no reason why any sane guy would not like her.
"You really think so?" she asked me.
"Of course, I told her. You are so beautiful, Didi. Everybody says so."
She smiled, and the worried frown that had marred her brow a minute ago went away.
"And I saw the way Jiju looked at you," I said wickedly. "He will fall on you like a starved man."
She smacked me again, a little harder this time.
"You are getting to be really naughty," she said.
I giggled and cuddled into her. She put her arms under my head, gathering me to her.
"Soon you will be cuddling like this with your hubby," I said.
"Babli, stop it," she admonished half-heartedly.
I giggled again and we lay quietly for a few minutes.
"Didi, did you like the haldi?" I asked.
"Hmmm," she said, agreeing that she did.
"You were radiant by the end of the night," I told her. "The haldi chandan really made your complexion glow. You looked so beautiful."
"Really?" she asked.
I nodded against her. "Dadiji was commenting on how you were really looking like a bride today," I said, referring to my grandmother's comment.
"Really?" she asked again.
"Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?" I asked her.
"I don't know. It's just that I wonder if he will like me," she murmured.
I sat up next to her and looked at her sternly. "Uff, Didi! I told you he will like you. Not just like, he will love you. You are so beautiful and every part of you was glowing tonight."
She looked away from my direct gaze and nodded hesitantly.
