#sareespeak
#SS/15/2020
#womenofsareespeak
#kanjivaram
#kanjivaramsilk
#silk
#aucklandnzss
Attended wedding of a friend’s daughter. Let me rephrase that. I know both sides. So friend’s daughter and friends’s son.
Got saree and blouse ready the night before as it’s quite a ritual. I have to move the orange mat, drag the camphor chest forward so that the lid, when open, does not hit the ledge of the mirror on which sit some cacti – not real live ones but plastic ones, (will replace with real ones as no self respecting person is able to kill a cactus).
Coming back to the chest, once dragged sufficiently forward, I must remove glass top and gingerly rest it atop bed cushions.
Then, open chest, stare at sarees on top for a minute or so, all the while trying to remember chest contents without having to rummage around chest.
I dig deep into chest, spy the bottle green and pull it out. Press all sarees down, close chest, place glass lid on top, push it back to its pride of place under mirror ledge, drag mat to lie in the centre between chest and bed.
My oh my, what a ritual to select a saree. But worth every minute.
Another gem from my wedding trousseau. Bottle green, almost black, with deep maroon borders and pallu. With pure gold zari Annapakshis, mangoes, the works. A kanjivaram to die, not literally I hope, for.
I believe sarees age like fine wine, and women. The saree seems to look better with age, 30 years old.
Matched with a cotton khadi blouse, the reason for me not wearing the original blouse has been disclosed in a previous post.
Had a lovely time with Gayathri, and her girls. (My trio was out of town at a rehearsal).
Weddings are also a time to sit quietly and reminisce about treasured moments aeons ago. The anticipation, excitement, trepidation, ecstasy, was it possible to have felt those cascading sensations all at once?
Then, the honeymoon, getting to know each other..better, settling down, feeling loved and wanting to love, unsure why the other is quiet, feeling all at once a surge of love and irritation..
The girls arrive, and it’s all about them, convos on kindys, schools, camps, music lessons, dance classes, report cards;
we lapse into apathy and complacency, occasionally coming up for gulps of fresh air,
Now, walks, talks, chats, movies, trips, family dinners or dinner for two, eventually back to pre girls’ days, almost empty nesters, yet fully invested in the girls’ lives, and knowing that, not too far away, the next generation will arrive for the cycle to continue..
The Cycle of Life in Lion King,
The Maori Koru in New Zealand,
The Fibonacci Sequence in Life..
Pulled back to present day reality by the haunting strains of the Nadhaswaram.
Can’t help but muse on the words of Dave Meurer,
“A great marriage is not when the ‘perfect couple’ comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.”
My green kanjivaram,
my go-to, feel-good saree, comforting, thick, rich, resplendent, heavy with the weight of stories, experiences, from the housewarming of my first home, my daughter’s aayush homam, countless pujas and weddings,
has got me reminiscing about marriage and relationships.
Rich, intricate, delicate, fragile, and hard work, but worth every minute moment of sweat, toil, tears, joy and bliss.
I’d like to take back what I wrote..
Just had a mini disagreement, (in my mind, I’ve played out a fist fight),
About how toilet paper must be fitted.
Learn a new thing a day.
Well, actually, ongoing learning for the past 30 years.
I place it such that the part to tear is against the wall to minimise waste. He claims that it should be front facing, against the metal cover so that the metal cover can be used to tear off the paper.
Nothing much has changed, nothing much is going to change, here’s to a lifetime of toilet paper altercations.
Added photos to capture the rich dark green of this kanjivaram. The last 2 are from an older post.
Bavani’s Happy Place 