I was the first person to wake up the morning of the wedding. I was also the first to go to sleep. My dear friend Sheena gave me earplugs at the Sangeet and around midnight while many of the guests were still dancing, eating and enjoying, I sneaked into my bedroom, took off all the pre-bridal attire, slipped into my PJ’s and tucked the earplugs into my ears. Quite honestly, it was the best sleep of the entire wedding week.
I woke up to a silent and peaceful house. It was serene. Everyone was sound asleep after pulling an all nighter to clean up from our pink affair and attend to last minute wedding details.
I made some coffee and enjoyed a few cherished moments alone with my thoughts (and the blog, of course!) What was I thinking, you ask? I was thinking about the twists and turns of life, all the circumstances that brought My Leading Man and I to this point, and how sometimes what is truly meant to be will fight its way into existence even when you resist.
There wasn’t much time to myself. The door bell rang and then kept ringing as the hairdresser, make-up artist, videographer and photographer began arriving. The dining room became make up and hair central with eyeshadows, hairdryers and culring irons finding their place along side the extra mittai baskets.
Makeup took longer than anticipated and instead of being second in the makeup chair, I ended up being third. 
As I waited my turn, I sat back and soaked it all in. I saw sleepy faces wake up with smiles. I saw all my bridal finery laid out on the bed, glistening in the early morning light. I saw the photographer positioning my shoes and engagement ring around the house to capture the perfect shot. I saw the bride’s men arrive in their light grey suits and purple ties. I watched everyone working away, smiles on their faces, positive energy radiating and realized I had assembled the perfect team to be with me the morning of the wedding.
With makeup finally complete, my Masi, sister and cousin helped me step into (litterally!) my lengha, put on my matching churra, kulerai and jewlery. The pins were pre-placed in my dupatta and with a few minor adjustments it was securly on my head too. I slipped into my fabulously purple Kate Spade shoes and we were ready to go.
When I arrived at Scripps, the tent simply took my breath away. It looked more beautiful that I ever imagined. The yellow curtains (hand made by my mom and Masi) and orange marigolds flowing from the crisp white tent. The buttercup tablecloths with the tall fruit centerpieces and terra cotta pots filled with yellow, greeen and orange flowers turned out even prettier than I envisioned. All the details were perfectly displayed from the chalkboard on the buffet table to the donation cards and gerber daisies at each place setting to the giant bird cage chandelier in the center of the tent. It was simply perfect.
I took a seat alone in the outdoor courtyard of Balch Hall and took some deep, long breathes as I waited for the festivities to begin. Then suddenly I heard the dhol blaring. My baraat had arrived. Sitting alone amidst the greenery, the statues, the peace and the serenity, I cried. My Leading Man was here and I just wanted desperatly to tell my Dad that my groom is here and how much I wished Dad was here too.
No time for tears. The Bride’s Men found me a few minutes later. All 16 of my dashingly handsome cousins and family friends in their light grey suits and purple ties. They lined up in two rows and 
escourted me to a courtyard where I saw My Leading Man for the first time. And yes ladies, he too took my breath away. He wore a beaming smile, a beautiful outfit and that turban was so perfectly tied. He was my Groom. My Leading Man. My Knight in Shining Armour. My Almost Husband.
The next few hours are kind of a blur. We took pictures with the vintage Rolls Royce My Leading Man rented for the big day and at various locations on the Scripps College campus. There are pictures of us twirling, kissing, walking hand in hand. There was the wedding ceremony where I cried at certain moments, smiled big at other moments and even laughed thanks to my cousin who kept making funny comments as we walked around the Sikh Holy Book. Thanks Jassi!
I was warned to wiggle my toes as much as possible and I was wiggling away but despite my best wiggles by the final ardas my entire leg was asleep. I was only able to stand with the help of Mopy Bhan and Rani Masi. Did any of you notice that I nearly fell?
The morning’s June gloom turned into a bright and beautiful sunshine as our reception began. We entered the tent to our favorite song Aaj Din Chadheya by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan. From then on it was a party. Familiar smiling faces all around, eating, drinking, taking pictures, dancing, laughing and who can forget all the pretty ladies with the yellow and orange gerber daisies in their hair.
Memories were made. Laughs were had. A few tears were shed. It was a perfect day to commence our lives together and My Leading Man and I are so honored to have shared our day with you.
Santana Row just a few years ago. When I learned that she had moved to the Bay Area without telling me, she claims I threatened to “body slam” her. I disagree, but then again I was faded. Anything is possible with a little Rum and Coke.
