My family led me downstairs into the living room for pre-reception pictures. I was so nervous that I knocked over a potted plant. My five year old cousin got a big kick out of that. At least someone laughed. Everyone else was tense and preoccupied.
We took many pictures and then the clock struck five. It was time to leave. As we walked out to the decorated cars, many drove by slowly to watch. Many people had not seen a Pakistani wedding party in our neighborhood - with most of them being Causcasian, it was a sight for sore eyes.
When we were in Pakistan the year before, I insisted on buying a white Pakistani wedding dress. My relatives balked at the idea but I was not about to wear red like the Hindu Indian brides. I wanted a mix of both cultures and it only seemed fitting for me to wear white. My father finally compromised on a cream coloured long dress with Pakistani silk embroidery and sequins with shocking pink and green hand-sewn beads. It was an original and I insisted on buying it. I had made a scene at the Karachi high-end shop which led to my father finally relenting so not to embaress the family friend who accompanied us as an advisor. I could tell she loved the dress too because she did not protest the purchase and helped bargain down the price!
We drove to the banquet hall where the reception was being held. Custom dictates that the bride arrives before the groom and is separated from him until his party arrives. I was placed in a room to await the arrival of my husband's party and his guests. My sister, two aunts, two cousins and three close friends kept me company, smoothing out my dress and fixing my hair and makeup. Everyone was excited.
And I was unexplicably an example of extreme calm. Over 400 people were to attend our wedding reception. 80% of them I would not know, including the groom's entire wedding party.
I finally got it and I think that's why I was so calm. I was ready for the excitement of the unknown. Ready to live within the moment.
Ready for the bagpipers.
Squeeze me?
That was the first sound I heard, even before the incessant chatter of the guests. My father-in-law was retired from working in a police office and requested the police band to accompany the groom's party. Back home, the tradition was that the groom arrived by horseback and was preceded by a band that beat traditional drums along with trumpet players. The men on the groom's side would dance upon entering the hall as a gesture that the groom had arrived. Instead I heard Amazing Grace blown through bagpipes. I sat frozen wondering if I had arrived at the wrong wedding!
You tell Pakistani people to arrive at six o'clock? They arrive at eight o'clock. The only filled and complete table were my friends from university and childhood. They read the invitation card correctly and made sure to be there on time despite my advice that everything would run late. My family took turns sitting with them while the other guests arrived.
After my husband and his family were seated at the head table (ONE head table), my aunts came back to fetch me. I stood up and four girls grabbed my arms and hands.
"I am not an invalid! I can walk to the head table myself," I exclaimed. My father's sister came over to me with a look that could kill.
"It is customary for the bride's side to bring her in. To hold her up and present her to the groom. We know you can walk and we know you can certainly talk but my dear, this is part of our cultural traditions. Would you oblige us?"
At that point I wanted to stick a fork through my eye. Was I that insensitive? Was it nerves? I was calm but maybe I wanted to get everything over and done with. I felt extremely embaressed as I looked at all the women in my family who had worked so hard to make sure that my wedding ran smoothly. I stopped and released myself unto their care.
"Take me to him," I smiled and hugged them all. My cousin started to cry and my heart jumped into my throat. This was it. They were giving me away much like how a father walks his daughter down the aisle and relinquishes his rights over her to her husband.
I remember bright lights and loud applause. Again, what I thought I would do and what I actually did where two different things. I wanted to hold my head up high and look him in the eye. When I came out into the hall and was confronted with 400 guests and an adoring husband standing up waiting for my arrival, I lowered my head and kept it that way for the next two hours...
So much for living in the moment.
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