In Loving Memory of Annabel

So I tried my hand at domesticity and made some desserts for a lunch that I was invited to.

I was actually visiting my Tupperware friend to collect my order and she said we had to stay for lunch and also invited my best friend and her boyfriend over.

How life has changed, the three of us would party up a storm back at university. We were not even remotely thinking of marriage. We all had our dreams, funky clothes, attitudes and packs of cigarettes.

Now here I was: arriving with my Halaal version of chocolate mousse (No Gelatin), and a peppermint and caramel tart made from scratch.

I have to point out that it was much harder than I thought. I mean the double boiler was overflowing because I added too much water at the bottom and I have to save the chocolate!

I didn’t beat the caramel before hand, just chucked the blob into the cream in one go, so I had to “fold” the mixture for like ten years – who needs pilates? It was still lumpy at the end, but who cares! No one noticed anyway.

But anyway, about three hours later with chocolate mousse splattered on the wall and in my hair; and my brother taking pics in disbelief; I had manage to not completely f#ck it up.

My Tupperware friend made three different dishes for lunch and my Best friend provided the salads and sides.

I was like: What the hell?????? What happened to flirting and dancing and being cute?

The only cute thing around there was TF’s 4 year old son and the puppy she calls Black Bastard, since it has no name yet.

At least we still have a sense of humour I guess,

So the trip down memory lane began, and TF pointed out that we had to console her when she got knocked up 4 years back and got married. I remembered that time and remembered how afraid she was to be a mum, and for the first time I could relate.

I am petrified!!!

I am getting married and that usually leads into having a kid.

Kids are fine, except they belong to someone else.

I don’t even have a desk plant. I just know it would die.

I actually had a plant in my apartment in Cape Town. It was called Annabel and I struggled to keep it alive, and then I left it in the care of my friend while away, and she killed Annabel. The truth is……I was kinda relieved…….sick, I know.

What kind of Mother would I make if I was relieved my plant died???

I mean it always starts this way, ordering Tupperware, making dessert, and next thing you sharing recipes and talking about how to clear nappy rash…….

I discuss Yeats, Rumi and Khalil Gibran. I love the ballet and theatre. I want to win an Oscar, or any award…..

I don’t want to exchange it for developmental sets and kiddies plays.

Ok, so maybe I am getting ahead of myself but marriage scares me.

Firstly there is the potential children fear – add mummy tummy and droopy boobs

Then there is the re-introduction into Indian Culture. What if I loose myself? What if I loose everything that makes me different?

My best friend said it can never happen even if I tried, but who really knows?

I guess that this is apart of the journey, its all one interesting rollercoaster of emotions

My Engagement

I always imagined that my formal engagement would be a small, simple and elegant affair.

I pictured a luncheon in our entertainment area that leads out to our beautiful pool area.

It would be intimate and fun.

Fat chance!

I forgot that I was Indian.

My Engagement took place in a hall in the Indian area that I came from.

When my parents first told me that they would like to have it there I panicked. I was afraid that somehow I slipping back into a world that completely foreign to me. Its like suddenly Indianville was taking over my life!

I actually cant say I had much control of my mind and emotions at the time. I told my mum that she could do whatever she wanted and I would give her the freedom to do what she wants.

The reason being was that I was not equipped for this, this was not what I wanted all my life.

I decided that even though it was far away, I would get dressed at home. I didn’t want to get done at someone else’s house. I wanted my hairdresser and a make up artist that I liked.

Tradition dictates that the bride and groom exchange gifts. They are not just gifts though, they are sort of gift baskets that are done all beautifully and set out on boards, with all sorts of decorations and covered in cellophane.

Our mothers agreed to do it at the engagement. I had no involvement in it because my mum asked my aunt to do it.

I was sad that she did not do it for me. She had done all my cousins gifts and made the most beautiful things I had ever seen. My aunt did a good job and I appreciated her hard work but I will always wish my mum had the time to it for me. She is my mother after all, and she is my whole world.

My Dad’s family really helped us out with the planning. They went above and beyond to make it beautiful. Especially my aunt that did the gifts.

While it was so strange to be thrown into Indian Culture again, I was also touched by how amazing my family was.

Looking back I am so glad that my parents did what they did and had such a beautiful event.

It was great fun! I felt like a princess and there is no more pomp that having 100 people there when you receive your engagement ring.

Who needs a candle lit dinner for two! We had the most posh event when we got engaged

Sometimes culture is not so bad

The Proposal

The way it works in Muslim Culture is that once a guy has an intention of marrying a girl, his family has to call her family and ask for her hand in marriage.

My Fiancé and I decided that we wanted to do things traditionally, because it would bring our family much joy. And I just found it all terribly romantic.

So after he asked me to marry him. Ok that’s a lie. We were hanging out and he said: "If I could marry you now, I would", and I said: "Ok, let's do it"

There was no ring and one knee scenario, but it felt all so perfect. So sincere and uncomplicated. Kind of a testament to our relationship. We have a very relaxed way of relating to each other. Its not dramatic, its just easy going and natural.

Anyway, once we both decided to get married, he went home and told his mum that she needs to make the call to mum to come over for a proposal.

I told my parents that they could expect the call. Our families were obviously extremely happy. We thankfully do not have any family issues. His parents like me and my parents like him.

At this point, I knew that we were lucky, we had a great base for a happy marriage because we have everyone's blessings.

It was a Monday when the phone call happened. My Fiancé sms'd me to say that my mum could expect the call. I was sitting on the couch next to my dad when my mum chatted on the phone to his mum. And I Remember it being extremely bitter sweet. The date was set for that Friday evening for them to come for my hand.

And that was the moment it started.

Enter Family Politics.

Tradition dictates that your grandparents, parents and siblings should be present.

I only have one grandmother left on the planet. My dad's mother. My other grandparents have already left us.

So this means that my parents had to ask their oldest brother. Both my parents only had one brother, so they each asked them to attend. In view of my mother not having her mother around, she asked her oldest sister. So to even the score, my dad asked his oldest sister.

It was all so complicated.

I mean, suddenly you have to have all this diplomacy. Other family members were slightly upset that they were not asked. And the wives of the brothers were not invited so that was a sore subject.

I was trying to figure out why it mattered so much to people to be involved in this?

Friday arrived and I was all made up in a beautiful baby pink and baby blue Panjabi (Indian Dress and pants…Skinny pants of course). It even had sparkly beads on it. I have never shone - literally - in my entire life. I am more a simple elegant type. But I felt like an Indian Bride, and it was pretty cool.

That’s when the freaking out started. I was like: "Oh my God! I am getting married! What if I am making the wrong choice!" etc etc

Eventually I calmed down, and went out to see what everyone was doing.

I was told that by my aunt to sit in my room until I was called. I was like: "Why????"

We already knew each other! It wasn't like it was some weird arranged marriage.

It was made clear to just do as I was told, so I admitted defeat and went to ponder in my room why I had to wait.

On cue, my cellphone rings and its my future husband. I answer and he says: "Babe, I am outside". So I reply, "That’s nice, I was told I cat leave my room, so someone will come get you". He responds by laughing at me and saying "Someone made you do something!".

I hate being told what to do.

Everyone arrives and is introduces and then I am accompanied to the lounge to be introduced to his entourage.

We are then seated separately. Men seated in the dining room. Ladies seated in the lounge.

This was starting to feel like the twilight zone.

Every time I wanted to pull a funny face, I just thought of my pretty hair comb and that made me smile!

So they all talk about pointless stuff. Like whose son is marrying who and which kid went off to university. And which old people are sick or who gave birth. blah blah blah. It was so boring, I almost fell asleep.

Within 5 minutes of being seated on the couch, I had decided this was not an audience that would appreciate my wit and intellect. So I stayed silent, and observed.

My mother and I kept glancing at each other, with that silent language mothers and daughters have. We were both thinking: "These people are so....mundane"

I was asked what I do. I said I work in TV production. I got some blank stares and then asked "Do you work for SABC?"

I replied and explained that I worked for independent production companies and covered all the different broadcasters at some point.

More blanks stares and a drawn out reply of "Oh, I see"

You have to understand, there are very few awe inspiring careers in the Indian community namely:

1 - Doctor (Also includes Dentists, Optometrists, Physiotherapists and speech therapists)
2 - Lawyer
3 - Accountant (As well as anything finance or business related)
4 - Teacher
5 - IT (All areas) which is a recent addition to the list

Forgive me if I forgot something, but let’s just say that Film Makers do not feature. And neither does anything in the Arts with the exception of maybe Journalists.

My Fiancé looked as baffled as me through all of this. He kept signaling to me across the great divide. The plus side is that we have now developed our own version of sign language.

Eventually I had enough, and had to escape for a few minutes, so I said I needed water and would get it myself.

My brother caught me on the way to the kitchen and laughing himself silly told me while I was sitting on the couch, I looked like I was on the menu.

And you know what? That’s how I felt. Like I was on display. What a bizarre experience.

Eventually they all ate their pies, samoosa’s and other fried stuff, followed by cake and teas.

I attempted commenting on a current issue only to get more blank stares. Gave up completely and drank my mango juice, which was really delicious.

So the talking happened and they decided we would have an engagement and my parents would come back with a date.

My mum suggested some photo’s be taken and we finally got to sit next to each other. Everyone took a pic with us and now that we were allowed to be together we chatted about how it weird it all was.

He also told me that he never imagined me wearing something so shiny.

Then his family left

My family argued lightly about a date for the engagement, and then everyone went home.

We both changed our Facebook status to being in a relationship with each other that night. I was not into changing my relationship Status every time I got involved with a new guy. So it had been blank till then.

That was cool moment for me. A commitment. To say, he is my man!

When falling asleep that night, I felt like I was Alice sliding down the rabbit hole

How it all began

Once upon a time my parents packed up their belongings and moved away from the Indian Community into a more affluent suburb.

I was 12 years old at the time

15 years later I met an amazing man who asked me to marry him, I said yes.

Except...........

15 years is a long time period of time and I forgot all about Indian Culture. And Muslim Culture.

It is a weird combination at the best of times. I mean, they don't even know which is which anymore.

But let's just say that it had the same effect on me that one might feel whne standing a beautiful frozen pond looking out at the sunset and suddenly the ice cracks and you plunged into ice cold water.

You see I never really ever thought that it would be such a shock to the system. I had seen my family, visited my grandmother in the Indian Community we had once lived in. Attended all family functions etc. So I thought I was in tune with how it all worked. But in truth I was very much out of it.

So this is my story. Of my Indian Muslim Wedding and how I will survive it.

Because even if no one ever reads it, at least it will keep me sane