By the time 5th February arrived, I was quite honestly, exhausted. It had been an entire week of non-stop celebrations, partying, hair & makeup, hair & makeup removal (UGH), dancing my heart out and just having the best time I could have only imagined to experience.
Like every other wedding ritual, Haldi too, has an ancient, deep-rooted significance attached to it, and one that my family takes very seriously.
It’s custom to wear an old outfit for this ceremony and I chose my mum’s gota-patti saree, draped Gujarati style, to have smothered in Haldi and some unadulterated love.
While planning my wedding outfits, I asked myself to describe what I wanted my ‘look’ to embody in one word and only then did I kick-off the detailed planning of each ensemble. My ‘one word’ for my Mehendi outfit was ‘Magnificent’.This was the hour that I wanted to look and wear the brightest, most striking outfit that would in some way, reflect the happiness I felt in my heart. Lucky for me, I had the most perfect designer to give me just what I wanted, in terms of grandness, volume and flamboyance. My outfit was customised for me by
I’ve had almost one and a half year of courtship, aka enough valuable time to plan the commanding day that lies ahead of us. And yet, as the last, pivotal, 30 days loom over me, all I can see around me is a state of panic. I can’t help but think about eloping and just escaping from the madhouse my mind currently is. Would it save everyone the trouble? Dramatic reference to Las Vegas from my favorite high school TV show, I know I know. In this state of quickly spreading agitation, had it stopped being about the union of our hearts, but largely
I’d like to remember how I feel today..forever. But maybe that’s just me with every indescribably overwhelming moment. Maybe that explains my love for photographs? The need to hold onto a moment, a thought, so desperately?