It was difficult to forget the day when Mihiri’s sister got married
and moved away leaving her family. It all happened on June 5 and she can
remember vividly the wedding ceremony, the dinner and the emotional
farewell she took from her.
Mihiri helped her to dress her up it was what younger sisters are
for. The well appliqued wedding gown on her, cut very low in front to
show off what she didn’t have much of. Yet it was spun with expensive
thread. She was daddy’s favourite and he wanted her to be given away
with maximum pomp. The party to fetch her to the function arrived at
6.00! They made a fuss. When they saw her that she was not ready
ultimately they left. Mihiri insisted on riding with her sister, Neela
so that one of the escort parties had to travel with their Daddy. She
didn’t like it at all.
 The ceremony was long and exciting. Neela sat through it all with
bowed head as she was supposed to while her white veil fell in front of
her gracefully. Her wedding ring teamed with studded diamonds completed
the look. She looked like a Goddess of Wealth itself. It was impossible
to believe that as recently as yesterday she had been running about in
tattered jeans.
The hotel was slit with myriad little jets of kaleidoscope of colour
simply an atmosphere of palatial iridescence. The wedding was over and
they proceeded to the hall for the next stage of the gallant
celebrations the much awaited scrumptious dinner. The couple sat on
their flower bed throne while little knots of people gathered to
congratulate the wedlock. Mihiri was standing beside her sister with a
permanent smile fixed on her face accepting all presents on her behalf.
One eccentric uncle of their actually heaved a standing fan. Mihiri
believed that he just had to be the man who gave the biggest of all
presents. The dinner was over, the family headed back home. Mihiri was
supposed instantaneously soon as they reached home Neela asked for
dinner. She had been so imbued with excitement that she had not eaten
and with all the cousins teasing her endlessly, peals of laughter
following it. About 11.30 came the period of parting they dreaded the
most; Mihiri’s sister’s official farewell to her family.
She said nothing just hugged all of them and lugubriously cried.
Their mother cried the most of all. Finally, she reconciled herself have
the groom an elongated lecture on how he should take care of her darling
and let them go woebegone. Their father was a man of few words. He was
all smiles and said nothing but Mihiri knew that he was storing up his
feelings in a macrame of misery for later.
After Neela left, Mihiri went into her room, she looked about. It
looked empty without Neela. They had been sharing that room since they
were born. Mihiri lay tossing unable to sleep in bed for at least two
hours. Then she felt thirsty and headed to the kitchen to quench her
thirst.
As Mihiri passed the hall she saw Daddy sitting on the window sill
under the moonlight fingering a picture, perfectly framed with love and
nostalgic memories. It is funny how the memory manages to capture
everything we feel than everything we see. He was trying to come to
terms with the loss of the darling of his life.
Imperturbably Mihiri smiled to herself and went up to him, put her
arms around and kissed him. “You still got me father” she said patting
him on his back.
“Yes Mihiri” he looked up and said with tears under his eyelids and a
smile lifting on his mouth. A doubt clouded his mind for a second...but
for how long?
- Rushda
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