attending my cousin’s wedding in india
tw: This article contains mentions of grief
I was in India the last two weeks for my cousin’s wedding. My dad’s side is from Chennai, the capital of the southeast state Tamil Nadu. My mom’s side is from Vellore, a town a few hours out from Chennai. During this trip we spent most of our time in Chennai (my cousin, the groom, is on my dad’s side of the family), but we visited Vellore for a few days towards the end of our stay.
Visiting India this time around brought my soul back to life. My family used to travel to India every two years when my sister and I were children. However, I haven’t been in eight years, largely due to Covid’s impact since 2020.
From the moment I got back, I entered a state of perpetual awe. I didn’t realize how beautiful Chennai was when I was a child, possibly because we went more often and because I had been less places with which to compare India, so it was all I knew. This time I regarded the lushness of the trees with new eyes and noticed the way everything is bursting with vibrant color, from the shopfronts, to the advertisements, to the clothing.
The wedding was stunning. It was only my second wedding, and it was my first Indian wedding. I spent lots of time with this particular cousin growing up so I was extremely emotional watching him get married.
The festivities happened in three parts: engagement ceremony, reception, and wedding. The bride wore several different outfits throughout the events, and each was breathtakingly beautiful.
One of my cousins took me shopping for three different Indian formal outfits, one for each ceremony. I don’t usually shop for Indian formalwear in the U.S. (the Indian boutiques here are often pricier due to import costs and have far fewer options), so I loved wading through racks of rich fabrics glittering with shiny embellishments. Getting prepared for the wedding, I felt like a princess as I adorned my wrists with bangles and put in large gold earrings. My cousin also took me to get mehndi done for the festivities. My mehndi artist was a middle-aged man sitting on the sidewalk outside a department store. I sat down on a stool across from him while he drew intricate patterns across my palms and forearms with unbelievable speed.
During my stay, I ate a LOT. Each Indian meal is comprised of at least five different items that are constantly being restocked and replenished on your plate (Indian hospitality is on another level). I also had so. Many. Mangoes. Aside from my family, I missed Indian mangoes the most in my eight-year India hiatus. There is nothing comparable to the taste of a fresh banganapalle mango (I learned during this trip that there are actually multiple varieties of mangoes, six of which can be easily found in Chennai during mango season). The mangoes we have in America are nowhere near as juicy and flavorful. My brother-in-law said it’s because they freeze the mangoes and then thaw them when they reach the U.S. We jokingly gave American mangoes a new name: zombie mangoes.
I was really worried that after eight years, I would feel a disconnect with India. Over the last few years, I lost multiple elderly relatives who were formative in establishing my relationship with the country when I was a child. I was scared that without them, India would never feel the same for me. This trip was emotional for me for multiple reasons. Firstly, being back solidified that these relatives were actually gone. We stopped by my grandpa’s grave, and I saw his memorial photograph in my grandmother’s home next to the photos of my other deceased relatives. As difficult as this was, it gave me closure.
Secondly, I was grateful to develop a new relationship with India. As an adult, I know much more about myself and was able to use this understanding to connect with my family members and with my surroundings in meaningful ways. Because India was inaccessible to me for so long, I was forced to confront what being Indian means to me.
I also didn’t realize how much I missed being around people who share my facial features and personality quirks. I returned to the U.S. feeling a lot less isolated.
So beautiful! Thank you for sharing this. I have a lot of fear around my relationship to Brazil changing as people I love go... I hope you found much peace on this trip. Your words definitely give me hope. 💖