The wedding and a speech

Sunday at 5.30pm

I couldn’t believe my cousin was getting married. He was the little boy who used to scare me with spook stories when we slept over at my grans place, but there he was with this smile, so huge if it could it would have engulfed the room.

His bride looked beautiful; she glowed, like brides are supposed to. I smiled to myself and stopped the tears from falling but when the couple walks in to the music of Veer Zara, it is hard for one not to get sad with nostalgia knowing that the person is starting a new life.

Sunday at 11.30am

My uncle Adil and Hanifa dropped us at the hall. We folded serviettes and placed them in long champagne glasses. We tied organza bows around white chair covers. Aunty Shami skillfully arranged flowers and scanned the room, her eye for feng shu or just decorating was excellent (I got jack talent in that department), the way it looked at 11am and the way it looked at 3pm was amazing. Rest assured it looked gorgeous, and I felt proud, after months of talks, here we were at the wedding. My stomach grumbled, in an hours time I needed to be back, I needed to bath and do make up and hair all in an hour. Where was my mum with that car?

Saturday eve around 8pm

We pick up Reyaaz, and he seems eager to join. I am glad he is, taking a guest along who is not sociable would only make it harder for me to mingle. But I needn’t worry, when we arrive, he befriends them all, and my uncles start to talk to him. My mum introduces him to all and chats with him. I’m running a bit around between cousins and aunties, we having a braai. Tomorrow is the wedding.

The table is decked, full capacity, with meats, sosaties, every salad mentionable.

We drink coke and eat cake for dessert. Everyone is there, and all these little kids running around. I like little kids, they have an interesting perspective to life, so new, fresh untainted.

There is always a fascination with my beauty spot (moesie). I have three little boy nephews (well they my cousin kids) all so cute and tiny, asking questions requiring you to think of a proper answer.

The boyz, my three little cousins I grew up with are now big boys, 17,14 and 11. They all sitting on Mixit! All of a sudden they grown up and I realize I’m nearly 25.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, time waits for no one they say, in ten years time I will have wrinkles.

Sunday at 10.30am

My aunt saves me. She brings me a beautiful wrap dress to wear the one I got made just doesn’t seem appropriate anymore. She brings me some makeup as well, my sister and my 5 year old cousin (Sara) mess around with it.

Sara approaches her dad (who can’t refuse) and she puts some blusher on his cheeks. It does not do him justice

Sunday at 5.45

Reyaaz my Mauritian friend is sitting next to my brother and they are talking of the stock market. My mother is fanning herself with the fan, Reyaaz’s sister, Farha had bought my mum. My gran is sitting silently and people come to greet her

But now there are speeches being said so everyone is silent. Junaid, Shaheens best friend is saying a few words. I think of who will say a few words at my wedding. I’m hoping its Farha or Toughedah. I would say Sumaya but I know its not her cup of tea. She will be the loyal one at my side, fixing my hair, telling me to smile, telling me to make a shy face, brides have so many faces. Noticed how they pull the “I’m so shy and innocent one” I think you have to practice for it, I know I would.

I think of her wedding and it feels like yesterday but it’s nearly two years ago. Marriage scares me, yet I’m so surrounded by it.

It’s my turn and I get a few jitters.

My uncle ,Sitchie Mamoe, calms me, and I start bit rushed at first. But once the formalities are over I just start talking.

I offer him some advice (“the wife is always right”), and I relate to a humorous story when he was 7 and I was 5. I then go corny and soppy, I recite a poem by Khalil Gibran and I officially invite the bride to our family. I totally forget to say Asalamualaykum!!!

Sunday 9.45pm

We drop Reyaaz at home, well at his hotel and I say my goodbyes including the traditional kiss on two cheeks. It was a nice weekend with him. I miss my friend Farha, whom I last saw three months ago in Mauritius.

But such is life when there are vast distances between u. Sms’s, phone calls and e mails substitute chats and sleepovers.

We had visited the bride and grooms new house which looks beautiful, new, fresh and clean. I wish that upon their marriage, I mean after all that is what its about, it’s a new start to a new life, you start from a clean slate, a fresh beginning to a beautiful life with the one you love.

Maybe I sound like a Daniel Steel novel or an Indian movie but hey, weddings are supposed to sound like fairytales.