Journal
Every published entry, in order.
A rain tree that was standing before the hotel was, and a ceremony laid out beneath it.
Fusion weddings tend to turn one culture into the other’s decor. For a Bengali bride and a Malayali groom, we kept the count even.
M. S. Subbulakshmi believed only about half of practice shows on stage, her great-granddaughter says. A wedding has an unseen half too.
Jasmine is picked as a bud and has to reach the market before it opens.
In a medieval hall, your seat told the room your rank. For a hundred guests in Bengaluru, we laid a table that said something else.
A wedding briefs the band, the florist and the photographer. Nobody briefs the guests.
One folding chair, moved again and again before a single guest sat in it.
Thirty seconds early and the crowd's applause lands on nothing.
Every grand entrance follows the same four beats, whether anyone planned it or not.
The tent held. Here's what almost didn't.