I’ve never really enjoyed the weddings I’ve been too. Especially since weddings for Malayalee Orthodox Christians are not the same as the north Indian weddings that I grew up watching in Bollywood. Which sucks to say the least. It’s a pretty low key highly anticipated ritual that all it is pretty much an excuse for the brides parents to splurge on some expensive sarees and jewellery and the guests chance to rush into a hall and eat good food. To say the least I wasn’t looking forward to any of my cousins wedding for two reasons. One being that it was going to be at all like my heart was set on and two because it meant that tensions were high and the stress would make me agitated. The reality was much better than I expected, with lots of traditions and family I was instantly surrounded in a place full of love and recognition. I was the son of a well-known woman and man in their respective neighbourhoods from a western country that with great opportunities. Already I was labelled as bright, open and loving all from my mum and dads descriptions of me over the phone and face-to-face t all my relatives. Things were looking up, and the loneliness that I felt subsided.

That changed on my cousin, Dary’s wedding day. The extravagance of the engagement made me less surprised with the actual wedding itself, with dozens of photographers taking an enormous amount of photos with family and friends. The last moments that my cousin would have as part of our family were that of the hysteria of the wedding, which then led to the unification of two good people that can now share a lifetime together. But quickly as the hype died down and my 24-year-old cousin that always showed me love, and consideration from the day I was born, suddenly had sadness in her eye. The last time she would spend in a well built home that her father worked so hard in making for her and her brother began to become a memory as she welcomed a new home and chapter in her life.

The worst thing that could ever happen in life is saying goodbye to something or someone. Especially if you know that when you do see them it will only be a short time in the future. And yes we were happy to see her marry a nice guy that was part of a nice family with a nice life, but our selfishness got in the way as the women who had raised her began to say their farewells. My mother does not cry often and when she does you know it’s a sad time, but the worst wasn’t even seeing my own mother shed a tear. It wasn’t Dary’s parents either, my mothers brother and his wife. It was my aunty Alice. Born with an illness that caused her to be disabled for the rest of her life, making her unable to attend the average school or live an average life, unable to do things that we take for granted like walk or run or have a family, Alice took her solace being a source of guidance and an extra mum to all my cousins on that side. She learnt how to sew beautifully and was able to mend and alter any piece of clothing expertly. To say the least I couldn’t explain how much she meant to us but what I didn’t realise was how much we meant to her. WE were all her children and the closest that she ever had to a daughter and most of, all her best friend, was Dary. Dary and Alice aunty shared a room together, they sat with each other regularly stitching and mending Dary’s sarrees and they were always in each others company when Dary had to study or do any kind of work. My fondest memories of my cousin and my aunty were when they were always together gossiping, shopping or sewing out on the balcony with the sounds of Waynad, Kerala surrounding them.

It was tough to see someone cry that hard, that silently in a corner as she watches someone so important to her drive away with a family she only met a year ago. Now she’s without a daughter and Dary, without that extra mum. Watching her go was a sudden slip into dozens of memories of the time we had as kids. My brother and I surprising her and our other cousins with a water fight, yelling and screaming, waking her up early in the morning just to piss her off and walking around our uncles land picking random fruits from trees to eat. Those days are done.

She’s gone, not for good but that chapter in our lives where Dary was our sister in our home away from home was now done. Now she’s a wife and with other people with the rest of her life. And although we’re happy that she got what she deserved, we were sad to see her go. With sadness, happiness and tears she said goodbye and as a man you have to stay strong so she knows everything’s going to be ok, when deep down inside you want to hug and shamelessly cry as well. But that’s how life is. You write some stories in the book that we call life but only so you can move onto the next chapter and then look back on all those times when we’re older and leading our own.

So, to Dary, here’s to all those times we had and the times that you will continue to have for the rest of your days with your new life.