Music. On a street corner. Behind a parked truck. Dancing. Glimmering Saris. The jangle of anklets. The eternity of dark shining eyes framed with ovals of Kohl. Bangles. Beats. Moving Feet. A Eunuch. “Ah! Friends! Come and join. Come!” The audience was pushed aside to make a space for strangers. A dark patch of pavement, crammed with a crowd of smiles. “Welcome to our Wedding.” A wedding on the street. For those with no walls to dance within, and where passersby become spontaneous guests. A wedding for a couple with no material possessions but who dance and smile and sing and celebrate and cheer. A carpet of concrete and nocturnal lighting through a smog screened moon. I watch mesmerized; not by the movement, sounds of colour, but by my own thoughts. Why aren't we all always Happy? When we have a body that works and walks and talks. When we have food to eat and thirst which is quenched. When we have economic freedoms which are realised, and political rights which are respected? When we have friends to love. When we have too much?
2 comments:
Don't really see much of this from where my family heralds from in Punjab (India side)
Though weddings are open, in so far that most of the village/town might well attend.
Sorry if I didn't make it clear, but this was a 'street wedding' for a couple who lived on the street. Very small and very simple...keep your comments coming! peace bx
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