Excitement over, fun finished and we are all left to do just one thing to end it officially - go home. Here, I sit in an empty room with no other living creature but myself, unlike two hours before when the whole family was at our place celebrating my sister-like cousin's marriage.
I wonder, we Pakistanis have no opulent balls like the British do, no fancy tea parties like most Western neighbourhoods and no regular get togethers. It is us in our world, fighting, surviving, not caring to see who we have ignored, who we have forgotten. We Pakistanis get just one chance to meet up with our family - weddings, which are truly a source of sheer stimulation.
As the noisy fan spins belo the vacant room's ceiling, I realise what a significant part our families play in our lives. The bonds that unite, the ties that bind are unremovable even after we crumble to dust and enter the next world. Such as in our traditional Sindhi modified extended family structures, I will always be, say, your father's, uncle's, daughter's, late husband's aunt's son. You maybe living in New York or Beverley Hills riding a limosine, going to clubs, getting a first class education, buying and wearing Gucci, Armani, Prada, Calvin Klein, you name it. Whereas i might be a village boy from interior sindh working at my grandfather's mango orchard. But at the end of the day, both of us will be related by something peculiar called blood. Sadly but predictably, we both won't know of each other's existence.
Weddings, especially Sindhi weddings as I have experienced, with their unique rituals, catchy "Dane Pe Dana" songs and lavish ceremonies, are those special events where you from New York while I from Jacobabad meet, exchange views and realise the expansive structure of our family. Communication is an arduous hurdle, but we manage somehow with the use of intrepeters, writing or sign language. Gradually our relationship turns to friendship, our dispositions clearly seen, observed and recorded. Yet, if these dispositions are different or possibly diametrically opposite, our relationship will remain that of acquaintances connected by blood, nothing more.
In the midst of rose petals, sweets, 'Ajrak', Shararas, Kurtas, scarfs, drums, decorations and loud music we see new faces and soon get introduced, and befriend them. The closed family bud opens into a beautiful and pleasant rose, fresh with new ties of blood.
This circle of individuals has its own personalities. There may be one nuclear family envious of another, we are always alerted by the presence of arrogant mothers passing rude and often derogatory comments, there are beautiful teenage girls making heads turn - the more flirtatious heads having their necks broken in the process, speaking of whom, these immodest fools pinch others when the power goes out and get too physical. There are the introverts, the extroverts, the jokers, the egoistics, the spoilt brats who almost crash the wedding, the team of dancers, the intellectual uncles and the courteous aunties, The bad guys try to spread chaos and confusion, guests get fed up of the misundertandings and some even abdruptly leave. Inspite of all these dreadful circumstances, the Nikah Nama is signed, and the bride has new roles of a wife, a daughter in law, a sister in law, while the groom has new responsibilites as the husband, the son in law and the brother in law. The rose of fresh family ties blooms to its fullest.
The bride and bridegroom are the celebrities of the show, and the family members enter a popularity contest by appearing close to them. Yet, everyone knows who really is close and who's not. Since the truth hurts the most, people try to ignore it, or sometimes the most desperate ones unsuccessfully try to change reality.
However, the dholkis, the mehendis, the dance practices are all memorable experiences. Once it's all over we are left on our own in an empty room recalling everything that shall remain engraved in our heart and soul. Watching wedding videos and photographs, fantasizing, trying to relive the moments but nothing can bring it back. But I find comfort in the fact that even though you will be back in your mansion in the US while I will be backat the mango orchard, a peculiar thing called blood will sustain our relationship in times to come.