15.08.2002 | 12:45 a.m.
I wonder if I will ever be the one in red.

I've been waiting for today since I heard Mam-mam was getting married. Not because I'm very close to her - on the contrary, I doubt she'd even recognise me if we met on the street - but because I've been dying to wear a sari. I waited patiently in my tiny blouse and petticoat as Tulu Mashi and Manda draped the sari around my waist. They kept ooh-ing and aah-ing in between and finally when they were done, they asked me to look into the mirror. When I did,for the first time in years, I liked what I saw. The blackness of the sari against my bronze skin, my almost bare midriff, my glistening nose ring and my freshly cut hair - they all looked nice together. Anuma and Mama couldn't stop smiling and telling me how "beautiful" I looked. When I went next door to show Aunty like I'd promised, she looked at me and said "Abhi tera rishta karvana hogaa!" (Now we have to arrange your marriage too!) I laughed because I knew she wouldn't be the only one who would say that and I was quite right. The people I knew at the wedding were those I hadn't met in years. In years. Quite an astute lot they were too. Everyone noticed that I had grown up. Imagine that.

I was surprised to see so many known faces. I knew I'd see some familiar people but it felt like everyone who was anyone in Bombay was there. All of the big names in the film industry and the theatre circuit were present. Surprisingly, I saw a lot of my seniors from school too. Hesitant smiles were exchanged and quickly extinguished before words were deemed neccesary.

I went upstairs with Ma and Tulu Mashi to watch the actual ceremony. Throngs of people were standing in a tiny room, most craning their neck to catch a glimpse of the couple and the priest. Smoke billowed furiously in all directions and involuntarily, everyone waved their hands to fight it. I could hear the Bengali chants and above the heads of a dozen overly dressed people, I saw the bride and groom. Sweating profusely and looking utterly uncomfortable. The groom was standing behind the bride, his arms circling her waist, while cupping her flower filled palms. Both of them repeated the priest's chants under their breath and then following his instructions, gently threw the flowers into the mini pyre.

The rest of the evening was filled with polite smiles, embarassed thank yous and obligatory hellos. Tonight I wasn't Aurina. I was Salilda's grand daughter and Lipika's daughter. And somehow, it felt....nice. I've been home only a couple of minutes now. I'm relieved to be undressed and in my pyjamas. All evening, I kept stepping on my sari. My ears hurt with the weight of the earrings. My shoes pinched my feet. My skin tingled with alien make-up. And yet, I have never felt prettier in my entire life.

deja vu? | jamais vu?