In the season of weddings in India, or Nepal, any night of the week may be the auspicious day for a particular couple to begin their ceremony celebrating their commitment to marriage and family, to tradition; celebrating their hopes and dreams for love, and a happy and prosperous future. You always know when the wedding season begins, even without a calendar, because you can hear the garish brass bands, joyfully broadcasting their tunes for the benefit of all across the valley. The band begins at the groom's house, then travels across town or from the next district to the party at the bride's family home. After observing the formalities, the bride leaves her mother and father in ritual mourning, and travels quietly to her new home with her new husband's family.
When my daughter got married last month, she did all the planning (and paying) herself with her fiance. She and the boy found each other (yes, it was a "love match"), they arranged for the dresses, rentals, food, tent, photographer. My husband and I got to host the party at our house, but the couple will be living on their own very soon.
The groom's cousin is part of a band (a bass, a guitar, two vocalists and a percussionist). At the bachelor party the groom and his cousin finalized arrangements for the band to play at the wedding. Our house backs up to a creek and a park, but we do have neighbors on the sides, and I was worried about disturbing the tenuous peace. So we communicated up and down the block that we were having a wedding there, in case they wanted to made arrangements to be away.
The whole celebration turned out beautifully. The day was perfect, the lighting romantic, the food delicious, and the band was fabulous. I heard they learned 30 new songs for this party, an eclectic mix of modern and classic pop, songs from the playlist my daughter was going to play electronically up until a few weeks before the day. The bridal party and guests danced to their hearts' content under the stars on the soft grass.
Over the next couple of days several of our neighbors thanked us for the entertainment. They told us they pulled their patio chairs out and drank wine in their yards, and enjoyed the music. Unlike with our neighbors in India, though, everything was quiet by 10.
When my daughter got married last month, she did all the planning (and paying) herself with her fiance. She and the boy found each other (yes, it was a "love match"), they arranged for the dresses, rentals, food, tent, photographer. My husband and I got to host the party at our house, but the couple will be living on their own very soon.
The groom's cousin is part of a band (a bass, a guitar, two vocalists and a percussionist). At the bachelor party the groom and his cousin finalized arrangements for the band to play at the wedding. Our house backs up to a creek and a park, but we do have neighbors on the sides, and I was worried about disturbing the tenuous peace. So we communicated up and down the block that we were having a wedding there, in case they wanted to made arrangements to be away.
The whole celebration turned out beautifully. The day was perfect, the lighting romantic, the food delicious, and the band was fabulous. I heard they learned 30 new songs for this party, an eclectic mix of modern and classic pop, songs from the playlist my daughter was going to play electronically up until a few weeks before the day. The bridal party and guests danced to their hearts' content under the stars on the soft grass.
Over the next couple of days several of our neighbors thanked us for the entertainment. They told us they pulled their patio chairs out and drank wine in their yards, and enjoyed the music. Unlike with our neighbors in India, though, everything was quiet by 10.
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