Once haldi was done, Kamal and I were not allowed to be alone together or leave the house unmonitored. Apparently, Hindu traditions believed that in the days leading to the wedding, the couple was emotionally vulnerable to negative forces.
This is going to be a whole lot to prepare for.
Karen returned with three glasses of wine. “Oh yeah, Jade, my mother wants to know what she should wear.”
Zora turned to me as if this was a test.
“For the actual wedding day, dress will be formal.” I winked at Zora.
Karen poured her a glass of wine. “Well, she wants to wear those Indian outfits.”
“Salwar kameez,” I corrected.
Zora clapped. “You really did read the books.”
“Yes, teacher. I did.”
Zora added, “And Karen, it would be fine if your mother wore the outfits, but many sometimes wear those and then change into something else between the ceremony and the reception.”
“Okay. I’ll tell her.” Karen nodded.
Zora waved her glass away. “I won’t be drinking. I’m still breastfeeding.”
Arya stirred in my arms. I rocked her a little and she went back to sleeping peacefully.
Karen placed a glass of wine beside me. “So, this raga thing?”
“Raas-garba,” I nod.
Zora gave me a thumbs up.
“Yes. Rasta fest whatever.” Karen poured herself a glass. “Do I have to go to that or is it optional?”
Zora turned to me.
“You don’t have to come. But I think you’ll love it. There will be lots of dancing.”
“Yes.” Zora’s face brightened. “Raas and Garba are typical Gujarati folk dances that everyone participates in.”
“Hold up now.” Karen looked worried. “If it’s not the electric slide, I might fuck it up.”
Zora laughed. “I'll teach you the basics. It is easy to learn even if you’re bad at dancing.”
“Hmmm.” Karen put the bottle on the table. “I guess I’ll come, but then there’s a sangeet thing too.”
“It’s all the same event.”
“Why do you both keep saying different names?” Karen asked.
“Just wear something comfortable. It’s not that formal.” Zora opened one of the many books that she’d bought me. “Most women wear mid-length dresses or skirts.”
“And the guys?” Karen asked. “I have a man now, so I’m going to be showing him all over the place.”
I chuckled.
“Slacks and a shirt is fine.”
Karen turned to me. “Are you still sure about doing this in Los Angeles?”
“Yeah. Although the elephant may become a problem.”
Zora waved that comment away. “It’ll work out. Mother is on it. She’ll get Kamal his elephant for sure.”
Karen opened her mouth in shock. “Elephant?”
“Before the ceremony, the groom's guests and family members will make their way to the wedding venue in a grand fashion.” I shrugged. “That’s where the elephant comes in.”
Zora sighed. “Kamal could just do a fancy car or horse, but he must have his elephant.”
“It’s a lot, but he’s so excited. I’m leaving him alone to his dreams.”
“I want to ride an elephant too.” Karen took another sip.
I shook my head. “We won’t be riding elephants.”
“Why can’t we ride elephants since Kamal will be riding one?”
“Girl, I am not even thinking about getting on an elephant right now. There’s all types of other things involved.” I let out a long breath. “We just found a mandap this week. It’s this big canopy-like structure. That’s where the ceremony will be.”
My head throbbed. The more we talked about wedding planning the more the headaches came.
Zora looked up from the book. “Have Kamal and you decided on a Christian or Hindu priest?”
“No. We’re still back and forth. Neither of us are fully committed to either religion. However, we have a deep respect for both.” I gazed at Arya. “I think since we’re going with tradition we should just go fully in. Whereas Kamal wants me to have my culture and traditions involved too. Which is why we’ll be jumping the broom.”
Zora raised her hand. “And since you’ve been researching our culture. I looked that up.”
Impressed, I said, “Oh really, Mrs. Zora. And what did you find?”
“Jumping the broom is big in black communities in America. It symbolizes sweeping away the old and making way for a new beginning.” Zora beamed.
“Good job.” I smiled. “I would clap, but I’m holding my sweet angel.”
“And. . .” Zora raised her finger.
“Oh lord.” Karen shook her head. “You may want to stop while your ahead, Zora.”
She continued, “Well, slave marriages weren’t legal so slaveowners would get a broom and—”
“See.” Karen waved her hand. “You just have to leave it at sweeping away old memories. We don’t need the slavery history lesson.”
Zora widened her eyes. “I meant it as no disrespect. I was just—”
“It’s fine, Zora and Karen. Let’s move on.”
Karen sucked her teeth. “Instead of jumping the broom, you should ride the elephants in with your wedding party.”
I leaned my head to the side. “Would you get over riding an elephant?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Are you both exchanging rings?” Zora asked.
“Yes. It’s not a traditional part of the Indian ceremony, but we picked out some beautiful ones.”