love at the indian wedding
The colours swirl in red tornadoes, orange too
And purple fabrics speckled through with gold,
The love on show burns right through like sun
That beats on desert sands, crisping leaves
And market roofs, selling spices; pungent
In a thicker air than I have ever known.
I wish I’d known this kind of love before,
Swathed in silk and smothered with
The hungry beat of drums.
I went to my first Indian wedding yesterday, and I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing the experience was. The colours, the music, the tastes and the sheer size and sensory overload was intoxicating.
How I wish that here in the West we could enjoy those colours in our own weddings. Suddenly, our rather plain white dresses seemed so boring.
If you ever get the chance to go to a wedding that celebrates another culture then I definitely urge you to go along. I will remember the beat of that drum and how it uncovered some emotions even I can’t understand, for the rest of my life.