I slept peacefully before my engagement. I expected to see her in my dreams that night but she had already come and reassured me. I learned looking for signs was not the right way about it. I had to relax and let things be. Allow events to happen and just accept them.
My relatives were visiting and all the women chipped in to help clean up and prepare the food. There was happiness in the house again. For many months, the absence of my mother left an overwhelming despair. Laughter, jokes and camaraderie trickled back in again and made us feel whole again. Everyone was excited to meet my new family and we decorated the rooms with flowers, streamers and balloons to commemorate my engagement.
A week prior, my mother-in-law had sent over my outfit and matching jewellery. It was customary to wear attire supplied from the groom's side. The dress was meant to be colourful and bright so that the bride-to-be stood out from the crowd. My three best girlfriends came early to help me get ready. They took turns with my hair and makeup while joking about what my husband was like.
"Is he going to be wearing a matching tie?"
"Will he be allowed to sit next to me?"
"Is he going to be wearing a tweed jacket?"
"Will he be the one slipping the ring on my finger?"
They drove me nuts with all their questions but a part of me wanted to know the answers too. I was too nervous to think about it all and told the girls that I was going to "...go with the flow!" They laughed excitedly and gave me a mirror so I could see their progress. I almost shrieked at my reflection. My hair was formed into a bouffant and the makeup was too dark. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door. Serves me right for distracting them as they were preparing me!
I wiped off the excess makeup and fixed my hair. While doing this, I looked in the mirror and did not recognize myself. And then I was struck by a thought. What if he doesn't recognize me? What if he doesn't like what he sees? What if I trip and fall in front of him? A series of inexplicable events ran through my mind and I envisioned the worst. The butterflies started in my stomach and I felt myself break out in a cold sweat.
When I returned to my room, I had gone pale.
"You wiped off all the makeup! You need it darker for the pictures," one of my friend's shook her head disapprovingly. "You look really pale!"
The girls rushed over and started to apply what I had removed.
"You OK?" My childhood friend sensed something was wrong. I was close to tears but could not come out and explain my insecurities with them. She understood my silence and pushed the other two girls away from me.
"She looks fine. Leave her." She took the heavily embroidered shawl and placed it over my head, pinning it from the back so it would not slip off.
"You are beautiful just the way you are and you will take his breath away when he sees you," she reassured me. I blinked back tears and nodded slowly. There was only half hour left before their arrival and I felt the clock tick in unison with every heartbeat.
They led me downstairs to the sofa, sat me down and arranged my dress to fall elegantly on the floor. From the corner of my eye, I saw my father look over. He had napkins in one hand and a placemat in the other, nervously trying to assess what was missing. But when he saw me, he froze and stared intently. There was neither a smile or frown but a look that indicated that he was deep in thought and transported to another time. I looked away quickly and down at my feet. What he was thinking at the time, he would confide in me later...
The doorbell rang and I could hear many voices, laughter and shouts of "Mubarak (Congratulations)!" My girlfriends, sister and the rest of the family had left my side to quickly meet my fiancee at the door. I could hear his voice and I became nervous. Do I get up and greet him? Do I look up when he comes in? Do I move over and make room for him on the sofa? What was I to do? No one told me the protocol of an "about to be engaged girl" in our culture. Before he came in, my aunt hurriedly walked over to where I was sitting and motioned me to look down and not move.
Me not move? That was impossible! The girl with the restless soul also had restless joints. I tried to sit in a way that was comfortable but knowing he was about to enter the room made me conscious about everything--which way my feet pointed, how to hold my hands in my lap, the itchiness of my nose was and the constant growling in my stomach! I had forgotten to check if there was lipstick on my teeth or if my shawl sat properly on my head. I was talking hurriedly to my aunt about all my grievances before she shut me up and pushed my head down. After this abrupt gesture, my fiancee and his entire family had entered and a hush fell around the room.
Squeeze me?!?!?
Did he fall? Was there toilet paper hanging out the back of his pants? Why was everyone quiet? I did not dare raise my head. I could see his shiny, black shoes (why was he wearing his shoes on my carpet?!), the bottom of his trousers and next to him were his mother's feet. I could hear her talking to my aunt inaudibly and strained to catch what they were saying. DANG IT! I continued to look down at my feet and heard my stomach growl again. Oh for pete's sake! I should have ate something when it was offered to me. I sucked in my breath and waited.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and then I saw my aunt's feet walk over and seat him next to me. His knee slightly brushed mine and I winced. My nervousness got the better of me and I stifled a giggle. When his seating arrangement was confirmed and everyone was happy that he was sitting next to me, the silence was broken by his father insisting for a photo op. My eyes travelled over to him, still with my head bowed. He had placed his hands on top of his knees and I could see that a garland hung from his neck and fell over his right leg. Man, this was going to be hard. How to look like a demure lady without ogling her fiancee was an outright test of patience. My childhood friend came and kneeled in front of me so I could see her face while my fiancee was busy talking to my sister.
"Are you ok? Do you need something?" she implored. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"You got a mirror so I can least see what he looks like?" I whispered. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth, laughing.
"You are impossible! You will never change. By the way, he looks great. You both do. I guess you will have to see the pictures AFTER the engagement to see what your husband-to-be looks like," she whispered back with a wink. I could have pinched her right then but I knew the video cameras were rolling and I would be caught being unlady-like! She left and I sat there wondering what would happen next.
The doorbell rang several times and guests were filing in. Each one would come and hug me and place envelopes of money in my hands. They would shake my fiancee's hand and tell him how pretty I looked. Nice...except he didn't get chance to have a good look. Neither did I and I wondered for the most part if I would have a neck injury in the morning from all the bowing.
My aunt announced dinner and everyone, except me, got up and headed to the dining room for dinner. My girlfriends came back quickly and gorged themselves on all the food. I lifted my head and pulled my veil back to get a good look at what they were eating.
"If it weren't for the loud music, you guys would have heard my stomach growling and been sensitive enough to bring me some food!" I barked while they laughed and talked amongst themselves, gossiping about my fiancee and his family.
"You don't need to eat. You are supposed to watch your weight for the wedding. Plus you will spoil your makeup!" The girls looked at each other and I caught one winking at the other. I scratched my nose and pulled my veil back down violently.
"I will get you all back. You think this is funny? I am hungry, my neck hurts and I have no idea how he looks! Does he look good? Did he say anything to me when he came in?" I asked. The girls laughed and whispered amongst each other. They were up to something but I could not place my finger on it. They sat on the ground at my feet with their food and the smell made me even more hungry.
There was a hushed silence again and the girls parted like the Nile. I saw his feet and then my dinner was presented to me. All of my favorite foods were nicely arranged on the plate. It was him. He had brought me my dinner. I heard him greet me and explain that he had put together my dinner with the help of my aunt. I nodded without looking up and took the plate. I felt him sit next to me and begin a conversation with my friends. They were talking and laughing but I was not listening. I stared at the plate and absorbed the importance of his gesture.
After dinner, (I ate very little), I heard my mother-in-law announce that they should begin the ceremony. I had left momentarily to wash up and returned back with the help of my aunt. Technically, I did not need her to hold my arm and guide me back to my seat but I figured out that I was supposed to look chaste and helpless! It made me laugh but I went along with it and took advantage of the moment because before I sat down next to him, I looked at him directly. He returned my glance with a huge smile and I bashfully smiled back. Finally! And no one caught either of us in this moment of disobedience...
I saw someone place a velvet box into his hands. We were told to stand and face each other. I kept my head down and my aunt reached for my hand to hold out. He was going to put the ring on my finger in front of twenty five people. I had seen this scene in every chick flick I had watched prior to this moment--a very private moment that would be shared in front of family and friends. It happened without him speaking a word to me or each of us looking into each other's eyes. Even this symbol of unity was executed with a chaperone whereby my aunt held both our hands and guided his hand to put the ring on my finger.
Ironically, I took no notice of the ring. The size, colour, shape or brilliance. My eyes were transfixed on the quivering of his hand as he placed it on my finger. And this is what I remembered fondly about that day. How endearing he was. The smile, delivering my dinner and his hand shaking when our engagement was sealed. I did not need the ring to confirm if he was the one. His actions spoke louder than words.
And I realized that day, he was my diamond in the rough.
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