An open letter to my Cousin, the Bride


Dear Cousin, the Bride,

I know you are on your honeymoon right now, hopefully (and probably) having a wonderful time in Venice listening to a Gondolier croon sweet nothings at you and your husband as he gently propels you through a little stream, but I wanted to pen you a letter as it was your wedding last week.

I also wanted to pen it now before I forget all the little details which made it all the more wonderful.

I also like using the word ‘pen’ instead of write which is why this is the third time I have used it.

Do you remember when we were children and weddings were a chore? I say this not having known you all that well when we were children and maybe you liked them. Maybe you even enjoyed them. I was never one of these strange, extraordinary children. Weddings were boring and long. And as we are Indian, they were very long. Then as I got slightly older I started to fall in love with them. I started to appreciate the tradition and history and culture a Hindu wedding offers a lot more and I can say with complete truthfulness that I don’t think I have enjoyed a wedding as much as I enjoyed yours.


This has a lot to do with the man you chose to marry and his family. As non-Indians I approached them slightly scientifically, wanting to see their reaction to our loud, colourful ways – ways which make the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding look like a pale, funny parody of a Hindu wedding. But they embraced the idea of a fusion wedding like nothing I ever expected. The clothes! The dancing! I love them Cousin, the Bride. They are amazing.

It also helps that I now like dancing. This isn’t to say that I can now dance, but I now no longer care what anyone else thinks. I would also like to say that I am used to my gangly arms and legs and can control them better but as I am five foot nothing, I have never even been in the vicinity of gangly. But I do feel more comfortable in myself and my innate sense of rhythm (which still fluctuates from being there to being somewhere far, far away quite regularly) so when your father-in-law urged me to dance with one of his nephews as the whole family circled us and clapped to LMFAO’s Sexy And I Know It, I did with only a little hesitation.

I still can’t quite believe I did it and the memory brings a smile to my face all the time. Since when do Indian girls dance with strange and very cute boys as the whole family watches? Since right now. Also, I should add that I love his mum and that her hips don’t lie. She taught me to Gangam style properly. And tried to make my hips move like hers – she also kind of succeeded.

You, Cousin, the Bride looked amazing. And so, so happy.

Your husband looked smashing too, and didn’t hate the fact that we stole his shoes. His sister-in-law was guarding them and I don’t think she was at all pleased with us for getting them. I’m sorry Cousin, The Bride as I think she hates us. We did win after all. And huge thanks to your husband for taking it all in his stride and accepting our crazy traditions. I was told later that someone should have pinched his nose but was forbidden from doing this myself as I don’t think I was supposed to be that someone.


Your first dance, and the dip, was lovely!

The food was amazing and I have already told you how much I enjoyed the dancing.

I wish you all the happiness in the world Cousin, the Bride and really hope that the rest of your lives together  are all kind of brilliant.



P.S. No wedding can ever be complete without a toilet selfie with Sister.


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