A Night made for Sylvia Plath

Mad Girl’s Love Song:

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”

The Bridal Gowns on my Mind

I had a crazy talk about my wedding gown with Mel today and his observations on my taste in bridal gowns were enlightening and perfect, to say the least. 

He thinks my wedding gown is to be a strapless and backless affair with yards of lace enveloping me. Dramatic is my cue and bold is my motto you see and my man has come to learn my tastes and appreciate and encourage them fabulously! Regardless, I was fascinated to read his ideas of what I would go for when deciding upon my wedding gown. 

While I cannot dish out the specifics on the pattern and design I’ve chosen to doll up in on my wedding day, I must say this: “Mel, what you described today morning is what I would love to walk down the aisle in. I may not knock your socks off when you first see me on 9th January ‘10, but I cannot think of a better symbol that would stand for two completely different families joining relations and sharing ties.

After all, symbols form a major part of your surprise package on our wedding day .”

Until then, for all the girls on Twitter who helped me with this & oohed and aahed with me, here are some breath-taking gowns & dresses that inspired me to go ahead with the wedding gown pattern I ultimately decided upon.

Cheers to: @red_hawt @rehna_tu @rehabc @freakgoddess @mekkanikal & @limeice of the #marriage talk fame!

Of Dreams & Roses

This has been a long hiatus from ‘Plan “W”‘ for me.

A few short weeks wherein I left behind an entire office, found a new group of friends, cherished my best friends all the more, met some interesting people, started off sparkling conversations with nearly everyone I met and most of all, started being *social* for a change.

If you have seen the new page on my blog dedicated to the ‘YayMen’ project on Twitter, let me proclaim it now that it is one of the few things in my life I’m excessively proud of. I owe all the madness and nearly all of the occurences outlined above to this little movement.

In a way, it has been a rebirth. Letting go of it will probably be one of the hardest things I could possibly do to my soul.

But not all madness can last for ever. Summer must give way to fall and ultimately bow down to winter’s harsh call.

Dreams tend to be that way. Especially for girls given to excessive dreaming. From what I have seen, its hard to hold on tight to a dream and much harder to see dreams slip through your grasp. 

I have been lucky that way. I really would like to think so.

Something Old, Something New & a Bride less Confused

A long time ago, when weddings were magical things that simply happened to all the beautiful big girls in my family, I used to dream about my own.

I used to dream about the day when I would be that beautiful big girl getting married. I used to dream about wearing my mom’s wedding gown and my granny’s jewelry and having a nice old-fashioned wedding with good old fashioned trimmings. I used to dream about walking down the aisle of my church, dressed just so to link my hands and my future with the man I love.

I am a big and beautiful girl now (modest I ain’t) and in 8 months, I shall walk down the aisle to marry the man I am quite madly in love with.

But I cannot wear mom’s gown now- the lace is ripped and old.

I cannot wear my Gran’s jewelry- I’d rather my sister have it, as I bumped her in the family queue to the alter.

I would rather marry in the old, naturally-ruined Portuguese church in Vasai than in the artificially-ruined church in my parish.

I would rather do a lot of things differently.

My gown for instance, is painfully (for a lot of people) modern. I shall be wearing jewelry that can be termed as anything but old-fashioned. My reception will be pretty unconventional as will be the decor.

Things have changed, people have changed, I have changed, my dreams have changed.

But this bride is still searching for her “Something old, something new, something blue and a sixpence to put in her shoe.” I am still that little girl who is finally having something (and someone) exquisitely magical to call her own. I am still a girl who is going to walk down the aisle to link my hands and my future with the man I love.

Whether I follow convention or spite it then, hardly matters.

Dedications, Words & Their Worth

Another wedding invite made its way to my doorstep today, and guess what? It really was just another wedding card.

Not many people get married in the summer out here, owing to the humidity and heat. Whenever someone does tie the knot during such an extreme part of the year, you would expect them to make an effort to making it special.

But no. They don’t. It’s just a wedding. So it does not matter if the wedding and the myriad functions that make it up follow a generic pattern.

Call me fussy and hard-to-please, but do not tell me that a marriage can be impersonal and so completely displaced from what the bride and the groom actually want it to be.

Do not tell me

It was destiny that brought us together.

It was love that will keep us together.

is the best you can come up with on your own wedding card.

It. Is. Just. Not. Done.

When mum & dad celebrated their Silver Jubilee, my sister and I handled the invitations. We were lucky to find Joseph D’cunha of Nirmiti Arts, who by the way is an absolute gem and a certified genius, to help us out.

The words we wanted printed on the card came to me with no great effort and when Mr. D’cunha asked me to write him a rough copy, I unknowingly gave him an idea.

He handed me a pristine sheet of paper with a ruled sheet underneath and made me pen down the words in my head. He wanted to use my handwriting instead of the usual typeface!

My sister and I were gobsmacked! We had no idea such a thing could be remotely possible.

We heartily agreed to the plan and after nearly half an hour of writing with my hand held steady, I penned down one of the most memorable pieces I ever wrote.

Once upon a time…
Two young hearts met, courted
And pledged their lives to each other.

They created a beautiful home,
Where the hearth was always warm,
The food always aplenty,
And guests always welcome.

They have seen us- their daughters,
Grow from little pig-tailed girls,
To young women.

They have taught us the meaning
Of Life, Love & Family.

They spent 25 memorable years
Walking by each other
Through life’s ups & downs.

 I ended it then with the actual invitation.

Looking back, it was perhaps not the most perfectly written piece of prose on the planet, but it was special. So special, that mum and dad were touched and so were the people we invited. 

Cards that speak of love might be chucked into the bin. The words hang on though. Sometimes forever.

 Which is why I write my own cards. On a side note, it is also why I write more than I talk.  

Purple Feathers, Darling Nuns, Shopaholics & New Beginnings

Last Friday had me sleeping a bit late due to extreme excitement over my first shopping excursion for the wedding.

Cheapjack’s in Bandra is a DIY bride’s dream & maybe the groomsmen & the men from my bridal party’s nightmare. I shall reveal nothing more than two words- purple feathers.

Mom and I wrapped up with Cheapjack’s and I don’t know what compelled me, but I was pulled towards my school or more specifically the nuns who were so much a part of my childhood. I was unable to meet my old principal but as I was nervously jotting down a note to her, I met the terror of my boarding school days. 

Said terror was the resident nurse and the choir mistress. If you were sick, you were huffed at for falling sick. If you were not sick, you were huffed at for causing general inconvenience. If you had a good voice, you had to attend interminable singing practices. If you couldn’t croak well, you were banished to the spare voices section.

Us girls would find ourselves in quite a pickle when in the presence of the terror.

So imagine my surprise when said terror gives me the biggest bear hug in mankind’s history and greets me like I’ve come home. It made me quite sappy to tell the truth.

Easter dresses beckoned me though and so I had to leave the good nuns for the nonce with promises to return soon for more reminiscings. Luck had it that I found the perfect dress in the first shop itself. I am so darn pleased with it, that I am planning on wearing it on the day my Second Banns are read in church.

The next day continued in very much the same vein. After a lot of waiting and coaxing I got to watch Confessions of a Shopaholic with three absolutely, divinely, stylish girls.

From frame one onwards, I was captivated. I forgot all about my cheese popcorn. I forgot about everything except a theatre full of beautiful women who let go of the world for an hour or two, the purple galoshes , coats, dresses, heels and purple everything, three women who loved to shop and always have a better-than-good time and Sophie Kinsella’s magical, funny story.

The adrenaline was gushing and I was incredibly high on a fabulous weekend spent with family, friends and cousins. So I ended the night with a thorough soaking in Temptations at Bandra and spread some Britney Spears ‘love’. On a side note, they really ought to chuck them old cds out from the jukebox!

Aside and apart from everything else, this has been a fitting last week to an old year and an old life.

Sukaala to the new year! Gudi Padva abhinandan.

The Perfect Proposal. Is there really such a thing?

Everyday as I pass by the under-refurbishment Spykar outlet near where I work, I can’t help but spend at least 5 seconds of my time staring at this utterly captivating advertisement: 

Yes, the models are painfully rangy and the style of proposal is completely not what most catlics would consider appropriate, but dang it! Does a marriage proposal really need to be proper and appropriate? 

I prefer to think otherwise.

As not many of my peers have yet been proposed to, I am not one to claim first-hand experience in the many different ways Indians (especially catholics) propose and accept. There was one story I heard today though that made me melt into a puddle of mush. I can still feel the glow because my own marriage proposal would have been quite similar, if things turned out differently.

Regardless, if there are any men out there reading this, dare to be different- your woman deserves the lovely memory.

If there are any women out there reading this, it’s probably the happiest day of your life (“probably” ‘coz you need to count first shoes, first kiss, first ball, first pyjama party as well)- so go with the flow.

I have read about newly-betrothed women gettin teary, embarassed, angry, murderous, confused and… you get the point, when being proposed in public. More fool them I guess (for picking the wrong guy).

There is NOTHING quite like the sight of the man you love popping the question of a million lifetimes to you. It may not be a heartwarming speech and it may not be a poem, but it definitely is a baring of the soul and more than what you can expect from that part of the species that rarely deals well with emotion beyond heartthudding football match verdicts.

So here’s to my Man, that emotion the poets call Love & the imperfect Marriage Proposal- they are all beyond Magical.

Sping Cleaning Treasure Trove

Spring is here and summer is hard on its heels.

There's fish aplenty

in Giriz Talav...

I found some adorable Christening & Communion favors (takeaways)...

And some more Wedding Favors...

…while I was indulging in some Spring Cleaning in the house.

From symbols of a new life to tokens of a new phase of life, it’s a lovely circle… and how fitting for me to find this trove of love on a lovely spring day.

My Palette of Purple

As many of you know, the colors I’ve chosen for my wedding are:

Rich Cream
Pale Gold
Goth Purple

This unusual combination is very difficult to put together on many counts, mainly because people simply don’t go for anything darker than a freaky shade of wine when it comes to dark purple.

However, I live in hope and hope to find my perfect match (color i.e.) very soon. Here’s what I have so far:

The Great Bridal Gown Search

M said “Shock ‘em all”.

S said “I like what you select”.

R said “It’s you”.

V said “It’s Reen”.

P said “Less skin”.

G said “Demure”.

R said “Not white”.

B said “Comfortable”.

M said “Anything you wear you make it look good”.

J said “Chuckle chuckle”.

S said “Magical”.

L said “Gasp”.

A line from my Facebook bio which I feel I must add out here (my talisman for the coming days until I settle on the final design):

There are places I would love to see and things I’d like to do… But something I would like more is to be content and be me.