My Best Friend's Indian Wedding

A wedding in Mel's country was a big deal but an Indian wedding, was a huge one. It was like a Bollywood feature complete with all the pomp and ceremony and bacchanal that only such an occasion could afford.

Veena was getting married. She was barely 20 - didn't even have her degree yet - still an innocent thing in the ways of the world and yet , there she was, dressed in the red sari. Next to the man she barely knew whom after that day she would refer to as 'husband' . The man Melanie was passionate aching for.

Dear God, irony was indeed a bitchy lady. That Veena's groom was none other than Jonathan was enough evidence to the fact. Johnathan - curse him - looking damned good in his full traditional garb that only he could wear with such modeled nonchalance.

They had met at university - Mel and Johnathan that is . Veena was in the science department which was located far on the other side of the campus as if the designers of the buildings had feared that one day the students would accomplish what they had threatened to do since the opening of the school's gates by blowing the labs and themselves all sky high.

The Economics department was in the middle of the university grounds - in the mix and hum of all life.He had sat next to her one day and she had half consciously thought about how cute he was before turning her thoughts to her pen that had decided to stop working. As she furiously scratched the surface of her notebook as if to summon the ink down the dry vessel, another one was casually pushed across onto her book . Looking up she saw the tail end of his dimpled smile as he quickly swiveled his head to feign ignorance of his act. It was the start of their friendship.

She loved Veena - she knew she could do nothing to hurt her on her most important day but what did she really know about Johnathan - what did they have in common? Was she marrying him out of love or obligation to her parents in obedience of a tradition that had been commenced long before her earliest relation had ever been conceived.

Mel knew that there had been something - it was the way his eyes would linger just a fraction too long on her and the way she herself would pretend her own stare was usual. Then there had been the night they had stayed behind to watch the football match and his hand had clasped her own with the same gentle reassuring warmth that he always seemed to exude.

There was a tassa band and they pounded out a headache that seemed to relocate to her heart. He had told her he would be busy that weekend. They had been talking in class about going to see the latest action blockbuster together because they had the same interest in films. Veena preferred romantic movies and the whole dramatic disbelief inducing scenario of a Bollywood feature. She had said that she had had something to do as well- maybe the next week. He had seemed a bit distracted that week.

They were walking around the pot thing that must have had some significance and Mel wondered if the same girl who had managed to melt a pot in Home Economics class would now have to run a house.

She did not know why she was crying - or for whom.
Then it was all over and everyone was crying and laughing. She felt like her tears were impostors to those around her. Mr Singh, the large, intimidating businessman, with his gruff voice that brooked no nonsense - was sobbing openly with tiny Mrs Singh soothing him over the loss only a loving father could feel so acutely.

He feet were moving on their own - towards the smiling joyful group. Then their eyes connected. For a second she read the shock and disbelief - then he averted his gaze. She drew level with them and Veena spotted her.
She wrenched Mel closed through the bodies of well wishers to embrace her like the sister she always thought of Mel as.
Mel shut her eyes once and with it her feelings and selfish half thoughts. She plastered a smile on her face and with the greatest of gusto she returned the embrace.

Turning, she addressed him who had been watching with some apprehension," Congratulations on your wedding. I wish you all the best.'