Tag Archives: wedding


I’m happy to get an invitation to a party, wedding or a get together. The day arrives, my enthusiasm has worn off, and on the actual day I wish I didn’t have to attend the event. Once I actually forgot an invite, and realized it a day later on. To take care that doesn’t happen again I post a reminder to myself.

Yesterday my late husband’s first cousin came. Her son is getting married. She wanted me to attend the three days activities. Just thinking of three days festivities felt tiring, so I said yes to one day only, and that is the day of the wedding. 

It’s cold, and with no electricity, or gas, it’s simply hell staying in our village. After spending two days, and nights at my village home, I am back in Peshawar. It feels like heaven to have heating. In the village with no electricity the water was simply freezing. The bed was ice cold, and even changing to wear pajamas to bed was a chore I dreaded. Trying to get my back warmed up I would lie straight all night, but it didn’t help.

The wedding is on Saturday. Thinking of spending a night in the village home looks like a nightmare in this cold, and rainy weather. 



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Recently we (my daughter, her family and I) attended a wedding in Lahore. I should have taken a photo of the exterior of the wedding hall, but I didn’t. It was magnificent, and so was the interior. I feel so sorry for not taking a picture. I should have. I’m annoyed with myself for missing opportunities.

We went there early before the other guests arrived, and were the first to be there after the host, and his family. It was a co-incidence that the bride, and the wedding hall’s names were the same. 

The last photo is of the stage set for the bride, and the groom.

This was the only wedding in which there were two stages — one in the men’s section (you can see it in the photo on top), and another one in the women’s section of the hall. The planners thought that the groom would grace the stage in the men’s section first, and later when the bride arrived, he would join her. But that didn’t happen. 

The groom came to the women’s section, and sat on stage waiting for his bride. He never went to the other stage set for him only. The bride was extra ordinary pretty. 



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Wish you a Merry Christmas 

Sorry I was traveling, and with no internet I couldn’t write.

The above picture is of the Walima (the second day of the wedding) of Nola’s sister-in-law, which was held at Islamabad. We left in the evening for Lahore, missing the Mehndi  function of another wedding. 

We are going sight seeing in the morning, and will attend another wedding in the evening.

We are having our own festivities this season.



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I’am trying to re-discover Peshawar. The first day — I had totally forgotten about the price haggling done with vendors. It’s a ritual which one has to follow religeously. If not done, one can spend more than the amount required to do so.

Yesterday on the trip to the market, after getting done with Nola’s requirements, I espied a vendor with guavas. I stopped to purchase some. I brought the price down from Rs. 120 to Rs. 100/kg, although it would have been a good price at Rs. 80/kg. It didn’t happen.

Yesterday with the evening function of Mehndi at Nola’s in-law’s home, I forgot the guavas. At breakfast time, while I took them out from the bag to put them in a bowl, I noticed what the wily vendor had done. He managed to slip quite a few bruised ones into the bag.

Today is Nola’s sis-in-law wedding day. Obviously I have to be on time to attend it. Nola and family arrived here just two days back from US. The last I parted with my daughter was in Hartford in September. Our next meeting when it will be only God knows? Houston is a long way from Hartford.

I can do nothing about the guavas except to make a jam from it removing the bruised areas. I like the fruit as it is, but personally I like marmalades, and strawberries jams — only those which I made myself. I have to save the fruit from decomposing , which will happen during my one week’s absence from home. I have to choose jam making.

I will have to do it in the evening, when I get back home. Hope I won’t be too tired to do so, otherwise I will have to give up saving them.



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Striving to remain calm, I stared at the mess I had made. My new shalwar was burnt. I had not checked the dial of the iron properly. Morning I had to take Nola (my daughter) to the market for last minute shopping for clothes to wear at her sis-in-law’s wedding. 

After that we dashed to the tailor’s shop to give him the clothes for stitching. We were lucky he had not left for Juma (Friday) prayers. Then we were back to to the market to give the dopattas for hemming. Meanwhile we went to shop for artificial jewelry for the girls. When we came back to get the dopattas, the shop was closed for the prayers. We had a long wait ahead of us. 

After coming back home in the evening I almost decided not to attend the evening function of mehndi. I was so tired, and wanted to lie down. On Nola’s insistence on my attending the function, I gathered my clothes to get them ironed. Then the inevitable happened, feeling sleepy, I made a charred mess of my clothes. I couldn’t get back to the moment before. Nobody can!



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Doppelgänger Alert
by Ben Huberman
You step into an acquaintance’s house for the first time, and discover that everything — from the furniture, to the books, to the art on the wall — is identical to your home. What happens next?


I had met this lady at a recent party. Seeing her at a wedding, I greeted her warmly. The lady looked at me a bit strangely. My smile faltered, as she hesitatingly answered my Salams (greetings).

I kept wondering at myself. Did I know her? Or have I made a mistake?

I was helping myself to food, when a lady rushed to my side, and tried to hug me, plate and all. I managed to retrieve my food filled plate from spilling all over my newly acquired expensive clothes for the occasion. That would have been a disaster if my clothes had been ruined. Once washed they lose their shine, and luster.

Wonders of wonder! It was the same lady, but now smiling at me — not stone faced any longer.

Again, I was mentally tapping my brain at the transformation.

Later on, I was looking for an empty chair to sit, so as to watch the remaining festivities. I came across my acquaintance once more. She made a young girl next to her get up, to free a chair for me.

Next to her was my earlier stone faced lady, who was now attempting to smile at me. I came to realize that there were two of them. They were not twins, but a set of identical looking sisters.



Handle With Care
How are you receiving criticism? Do you prefer that others treat you with kid gloves, or go for brutal honesty?


Criticism couched in nice terms will always be preferable. Criticism one to one is also welcomed; I wouldn’t like it in front of an audience. With unjust criticism, one does feel disheartened. The right person with the right words makes you see where you are wrong, but doesn’t make you lose your self esteem, or worth as a person.

When someone rips into you, and tries to tear you to shreds: that’s what I don’t like.

This happened to me.

There were still a few months to go till my eighteenth birthday. My wedding date had been finalized. The naive person I was, I was wondering aloud in front of my aunt about my would be husband. That wasn’t the done thing in those days. It was considered shameless on the girl’s part to talk that way.

I was just airing my thoughts, “If I don’t like how he looks, how am I going to spend my life with him?” It was really stupid of me to voice my feelings before my aunt.

Probably I wanted some reassurances!

She barreled into me. “Have you looked at yourself? How is he going to live with your ugly face?”

I knew I was a pretty girl. See, how vain I was! In a few seconds my aunt demolished me.

It was as if someone had clobbered me over the head. Suitably chastened I headed inside, and peered into a mirror. The flaming red face of a girl looked back at me.

I have still not forgotten the sting of those words.


Wedding and a Funeral

Daily Prompt: 10,000 Spoons
………. When all you need is a knife might not be ironic, but it is unfortunate. Add your own verse, stanza, or story badly – timed annoyance to Alanis Morissette’s classic:

My daughter Nola was having her exams, when sister-in-law let us know that her eldest daughter was getting married on such and such date. It was an unexpected announcement. Nola was grouchy at attending a wedding during her exams. Fortunately the dates coincided with a few days break between her written exams, and practicals.

We decided on going for three days, two days for the journey, and a day for the wedding. My husband R was away at a conference for Brigade Commanders.

The day we were getting ready for departing, R phoned to tell us that the bride’s grandmother had died suddenly; so probably the wedding was to be postponed to a later date. The wedding was to be held at the grandmother’s house. R told us not to come, and that he would attend the funeral, and make excuses on our behalf.

The next day to our amazement, R phoned to tell us that the wedding was taking place as planned. There was no postponement. He asked us, if we could make it to the wedding. Apparently both sides (the groom’s side and bride’s side) decided to hold the wedding on the due date. It was difficult for the groom to come on a later date from US.

We didn’t go, as it was an eight hour journey from where we were at the time. By the time we had reached, the wedding would have been over. We wouldn’t have made it.

It must have been ironic, that one day a funeral took place, and the relatives gathered on a sad, and depressing occasion. The next day a wedding was held at the same house, and it was a joyous occasion.