Velvet Cloaks in May in Atlanta Do Not Make You Look Nice In Graduation Photos

You know, I just haven't felt like blogging much lately.  It's been so hectic since getting back from my trip, then the boys coming home and trying to catch up with work.  Plus, the weather has been so amazing that whenever I am not at work, I try to be outside as much as possible.  I have really gotten into gardening lately, and want to really make our backyard a cozy welcoming place for our family.  I feel like we're getting there slowly, after having somewhat neglected the yard for the past two years, as we have been working on the inside of our house. 

So, this post is basically going to cover the time period from when I got back from Karachi in 2006, until my graduation from law school in May of 2007.  Having already received and accepted a job offer at the firm where I currently work, my third year of law school was basically sitting in a holding pattern, making it through my classes with semi-decent grades and preparing to move to Texas to take the bar and start work.  Also, by that time we had set the date for our U.S. wedding for August of 2007, so I was starting to work on preparations and plans for ANOTHER wedding! 

My last year of law school was great solely for the reason that I was a research assistant for one of my favorite professors, Professor Abdullahi An'naim.  He is a professor of Islamic law at my law school, and I worked with him, helping to edit his latest book on Shar'iah.  His classes and my interactions with him really have shaped my own faith and interaction with the world as a Muslim.  As a lawyer and a Muslim, I really agree with the principles he sets for for governance of predominantly Muslim countries.  He is an amazing mind and an inspirational person, and I would highly recommend checking his stuff out if you have any interest in progressive Islamic government and Shar'iah.

In May of 2007, my parents came out to Atlanta, and attended my graduation, along with my sister and some of M's relatives who were living nearby.  My sister was graduating from nursing school at the same time, so it was convenient for them to come back East for both graduations at once.  As I was hooded, I really felt like I was getting ready to move on to the next stage of my life.  And I was, we had just a few days to pack up all our stuff, finish negotiating the purchase of our first house, and get to Texas.

In which I embark on the next major stage of my life in a floppy purple velvet hat with a gold tassel.

What's Wrong With Your Hands?

I'm in the end stages of the henna on the palms of my hands fading.  The tops of my hands and wrists have already scrubbed off.  The bottom of my hands looks like either (a) I've developed some kind of rare skin disease, or (b) I didn't wipe my hands very well after eating a basket of buffalo wings.  I love wearing henna, but the end stages are not very pretty!  I thought it would probably fade before I got back, or at least not be very noticeable, yet here it is.  So far, I have had quite a few people at work ask me what is wrong with my hands, although some people (surprising number actually), have recognized it for what it is.  I wonder about the people who haven't said anything at all.  Do they just not notice, or do they really think there is something wrong with me, and are to polite to say anything?

I'm Back

I'm back from my month long blog hiatus.  I was traveling, to Pakistan to be specific!  I don't announce trips publicly prior to leaving because of security reasons (even though this blog is semi-anonymous, I don't want to take any chances).  We went to Karachi for two weeks for my sister in law's wedding, which was a tons-of-fun, full blown Pakistani Shaadi in all its glory.  I plan to blog it all on here once I recover.  I didn't get home until last night around midnight, and I am totally exhausted now, but forcing myself to stay awake through the jet lag to get over it more quickly.  I promise to resume my regular blogging schedule now that I am back, which means more track back over the past couple of years.

My Apples Cause National Security Alerts

We left Karachi at the end of August, just a few days before my third year of law school was scheduled to start.  We had three days to fly from Karachi to Dallas, then get in a car and drive 12 hours back to Atlanta.  We were young, we could rough it, we thought.  What we didn't expect was that I would get massively, disgustingly sick on the way home.  Yep, I spent seven weeks in South Asia without so much as a gurgle, but when I got to the airport in Karachi, I started to get the hint that I might not be having a nice flight home.  The worst thing about it was that we got perks all the way home that I wasn't able to enjoy.  We got upgraded to first class for the flight from Karachi to Muscat, but I was feeling so sick, I couldn't even take a bite of my gourmet first-class meal.  Then, when we got to Muscat, we had a nine hour layover, so Gulf Airways put us up in a hotel.  We were standing in line to get our room in the hotel lobby, there were a lot of people in front of us since it appeared our whole flight was transiting.  As we waited, I was feeling worse and worse.  Unexpectedly, a hotel worker whisked us out of the line, and took us up to the penthouse suite of the hotel.  (I have suspicions that we were not "randomly" selected for the royal treatment, that maybe it is some special "blue passport" treatment that we got because of me, but who knows...)  Any way, the suite was gorgeous, with a giant balcony overlooking downtown Muscat, with (according to M) wonderful views.  I don't know about the view, because I spent the entire nine hours either lying on the floor of the (very nice) bathroom, or lying in the bed.  I have never been that viscerally sick in my life (I will spare you the disgusting details).  I was still really sick when we left to get on our next flight (although at least I wasn't puking anymore).  Before we left the hotel in Muscat, I slipped a few apples in M's carry-on bag, since they were the only thing I thought I might be able to eat. 

A view of what I missed in Muscat.  Maybe one day we will get to go back.

Photo Credit

We transitted through Germany, and finally got to Dallas.  As we were going through customs, M, of course, had to be specially screened, or whatever they call it when you have to go into a little room to the side and get questioned extra because you come from the "wrong" country.  Anyway, I waited for him the waiting room while he was taken back to a private room.  I always get kind of anxious waiting for him to come out (key reason why I refuse to watch the movie "Extraordinary Rendition").  Finally he came out, looking quite a bit perturbed (with me--anyone who has been married for a while can tell when their husband is not too happy without a word having to be said).  Turns out that the immigration officer had asked him whether he was carrying any food on him, and he said no, not knowing that I had stashed some apples in his bag.  Then the officer searched his bag, found the apples, and berated him for "lying."  Then he took out our customs form and wrote APPLES on it in big red letters with a permanent marker and told M it would be a $500 fine for illegally bringing fruit into the country.  M was so mad at me!

When we got to the customs inspector, he looked at our form, and said "I see here you have some apples, how much do you have?" obviously holding back a smirk.  "Three." I said.  "Three apples?" he said incredulously.  "Well, it seems like you all have had a long enough day already, so why don't you just give me the apples, and you can go on your way."  I gratefully gave him the apples, and we finally made it out of the airport and met my dad, who was wondering why it was over two hours since our flight had gotten in, and he still hadn't seen us.  A few days later, after recuperating at my parents' house, we made the drive to Atlanta, and it was the only time in my life I ever missed the first day of school.

Treasures from Karachi

One of my favorite things about visiting Karachi is the shopping.  I love the atmosphere, the variety, and of course, the prices!  The first time I visited Karachi, since I was there for six weeks, I had a broad variety of shopping experiences, including Zainab Market, Tariq Road, Millennium Mall, Dolman Mall, Pak Towers, ZamZama, to name just a few.  One of my favorite things to buy is home goods, because I like the style of traditional Pakistani textiles, and the home goods are just so much more affordable in Pakistan compared to here.  The first time we went, we brought back a lot of rugs, wall hangings, etc.  Of course, I also like to go clothes shopping, and shoe shopping (ZamZama day was nothing but shoes, I think I bought 8-9 pairs in one go).  Zainab Market is great for souvenirs, especially pashmina shawls, I always go there to pick up some pashmina shawls as gifts for people back home (I have quite a nice collection of my own as well).

Here is some of the stuff from my first trip that we use at our house.  I love all this stuff.

Rug in the foyer of my house.  We bought this from a rug sale that was going on at a hotel that M heard about.  This is an Afghani rug. 

   

Wood carvings from Zainab market, the top says "Allah" and the bottom one says "Muhammad."

This smaller rug is in my downstairs hallway.  We received this rug as a wedding present

Wall hanging in our family room.  This is also from Zainab market

We use these large pillows as floor pillows in our bedroom.  We also got these covers as wedding presents. 

This rug is in our bedroom sitting area, we also got it  from the same rug sale.  This is a handmade silk rug.  The ja namaz (prayer rugs) are from Pakistan too.  M brought back the small one for Little D last time we went to Karachi.  

Last year we went to Karachi again, and, although I didn't go out as much, we did manage to pack our bags full of treasures once more.  This time, we decided to get curtains made for our house.  Having custom made curtains done in the States costs thousands of dollars, and takes weeks.  But in Karachi, you can have them custom made in just a few days, and for only a couple of hundred dollars.  The curtain man came to our house and brought tons of samples.  I looked through all the books and chose the patterns I liked.  Then M went back with him to the store and told him how he wanted them finished out, and they were done and back to us by the next day.  

Dining room curtains

Living room curtains

Bedroom Curtains

                                                                                  

Last time, I left early because I had to get back to work, and M and Little D stayed a week longer.  M went shopping some more and brought back some pottery, and other knick knacks as well. 

Sindhi style pottery that I display in my kitchen. 

Decorative animals.  Little D is always very sad that he can't play with the "booo" (elephant).

A decorated toy truck for Little D's room.  This is what big trucks in Pakistan actually look like.  I have a miniature rickshaw too, that I keep in my office.  On the back of it, it says "Look at me, but with love" in Urdu.

A sampling of my pashmina collection.  These are just the first few I happened to pull off my shelf. 

Why? (Weekly Rant)

Why is there an ugly purple couch in the women's restroom on my floor?  Why are there stupid little teddy bears on it with dumb cutesy sayings on them?  Why do I have to maneuver around it everytime I want to go to the bathroom?  This isn't the frickin' Neiman Marcus bathroom!  I have never seen anyone sit on this couch, ever.  Why would anyone want to?  I'm a mean intimidating woman litigator (ha!)  I don't want cutesy teddy bears in my office bathroom.  If I went to another firm and there were teddy bears in the women's restroom, I would make fun of the women attorneys at that firm.  (I'm mean that way, ha!)  Sometimes I hide the bears behind the cushions of the ugly couch just to see if someone will find them and take them out.  After a week or so, they always regain their postions of honor.   

Thank God it's Friday...

Wedding in Pakistan: Pt 5- Reception

The day after the Nikkah, we woke up late.

Aside---Well, to be honest, we wake up late every day in Pakistan, unless the power is out and it's too hot to sleep anymore.  M's family, and from what I've heard, many Pakistani families are like this, tends to wake up later, and stay up later.  Often, they don't eat dinner until nine or ten o'clock at night.  I've heard that Latin America is culturally similar in this regard, so perhaps it has something to do with how hot it is during the day.  People would rather be more active during the night when its cooler.----

The nikkah festivities had gone on long into the night before and we were tired, but excited about our reception that evening.  Traditionally, a Pakistani wedding includes multiple reception-type events, including baraat, rukh satti, and valima.  However, because my family was not able to be there, and because we would be having another wedding in the U.S. soon (more about that in the future), we decided to stay simple and opt for one reception instead of multiple events.  We just called it a "reception" on the invitations.

A couple of weeks before this whole thing went down, M and I and my sils had travelled around Karachi to various wedding halls and sites trying to pick the one that would work best for us.  We decided to have the wedding outdoors, which was brave, or dumb, depending how you look at it, since August is monsoon season in Pakistan.   We decided to just pray that the rain would stay away on that one day.  We looked at quite a few empty lots.  See, that is where outdoor weddings happen in Karachi a lot of times, big empty lots.  Sometimes they are kind of trashed and overgrown looking too.  When we first started looking for places, I couldn't believe that this is where they had wedding receptions.  I thought M and my sils were kidding with me.  But they assured me that within a day of the reception, the site managers could clean it all up, roll out the (literally) red carpets, string banners, lights, and set up the food, stage, tables, and flowers to make it look gorgeous.  I was somewhat dubious, but I went with it, and it turned out to be breathtaking.

Our Reception Site, The Fleet Club, Karachi Pakistan

Here you can see what the stage looked like.  That is my sil giving me a gift. 

For the reception, I went to the beauty parlor in the Marriott to have my hair and makeup done.  The lady who was doing my makeup has a salon in Karachi and in London, and flies back and forth between the two.  She was really good, and I loved both my hair and make up for the reception.  She wound strands of jasmine through my hair in the back.  Then she helped me put on my jewelry and sari. Not that many brides in Pakistan wear saris, but I decided to do it because M likes saris, and M's mom, who is from East Africa (Gujurati Indian ethnically), has always worn saris, and wears a sari every day.  So I liked the idea of wearing one to honor her as well.  I thought the simplicity of the banarsee silk sari ended up working great for me and was really happy.  I wore a filmy red duppatta on my head, with tiny bells that jingled softly when I walked.  (Although it was so long that it touched the ground, and M managed to step on it a couple of times as we were walking, leaving me to be comically jerked backwards unexpectedly).  After a couple of hours in the salon, my sils came to get me.  When I walked through the lobby of the Marriot, everyone was staring at me.  My sils were regretting that they didn't bring a chador or something to cover me up, what with all the jewelry and stuff and the unwanted attention we were getting.  We rushed through the lobby, and jumped into the waiting car, and the driver sped off, as a hijra  knocked on the window, asking for some money to bless the bride.  We hurried back to M's house to take pictures before heading to the reception.

You can see my jewelry and hair pretty well in this picture

My sari

The reception was literally that, a reception.  M and I sat on a stage, while people came up to greet us and congratulate us, take pictures with us, then go get food and eat at tables.  I should mention that we also had quite a few uninvited guests, which were a whole bunch of stray cats, who were fighting and mewling quite loudly under the stage, and at times ran out to snatch food off of unoccupied tables, while the wait staff tried to discreetly shoo them out of the tent.  There was no music, like there is here, although there was a Christian wedding reception on the lot behind ours, and we could hear the muffled beat of bad Eighties music from our stage.  Many, many pictures were taken.  After that, my eldest sister in law and her husband did something which I have been told is somewhat unconventional for Pakistani receptions, which is they took M and I around to every table, and we said hello to everyone and thanked them for coming.  M shook hands with all the guys and I got hugs or nods from all the women.  It was actually really fun, but exhausting.  The whole thing really didn't get going until around 10:30 p.m. and by around 1:30 a.m., the crowd had thinned out and we actually got to sit down at a table and eat.  The food was delicious, including a lot of my favorite things, chicken biryani, palak paneer, sikh kabab, kulfi for desert, and diet coke!  As we were finishing our food, and everyone else had gone, we felt the first few drops of rain hit our faces.  It had held off for the whole reception, just as we had hoped.  We gathered our things and left before it began pouring, thankful for a beautiful reception and no rain.

Here I am holding M's cousin's little baby.  His family told me it was good luck for the new bride to hold the youngest baby in the family. 

Enjoying my diet coke before the rain started coming down.  Wouldn't this make a great ad?  I'm holding the bottle with the label turned just the right way, lol!

Wedding in Pakistan Pt. 4: Rasaams (Traditions) following the Nikkah

After the Nikkah-nama was signed by M, everyone hugged and congratulated each other (well, M and I still hadn't seen each other, but all the family members were going from room to room and congratulating each other).  Then they made M leave the big room, and they brought me out of sil's bedroom and I, with all the women surrounding me, veil still covering me, walked from her room to the big room where I would get to meet M for the first time as his wife.  Looking at pictures of me, standing in the doorway, surrounded by all of M's female relatives, I look like a ridiculous Amazon woman.  At 5'7, in over 2 inch heels, I towered over most of them, the addition of the red veil just adds to the effect of my mammoth-ness.

So, I was swept across the room by my escorts and deposited on the floor at one end, with my legs curled up beneath me.  I sat in this postion, under my veil, for what seemed like a VERY long time.  So long, in fact, that my legs feel asleep.  Totally, numb from the waist down asleep.  Then, when I tried to shift a little bit to wake them up, blinding pins and needles pain shooting through my entire legs!  I'd never before had both my entire legs fall asleep!  It was horrible, I was so worried that once I had to get up I would just fall over!


Finally, they brought in M.  He walked in under a red duppata, carried by some of his male relatives.

I was still hiding under my veil.  And he sat down in front of me.  Someone placed a decorated mirror in between us, and pulled back my veil, while we both looked into the mirror at the same time.  This was the first time we saw each other as husband and wife.  Traditionally, this would have been the first time the bride and groom saw each other, ever.  Then some of the girls (who had been designated as representatives from my side, since I didn't have anyone there) tried to push my head together with his, and some of his "representatives" tried to push him towards me.  I didn't know I was supposed to resist this, so I just let them.  Then my sil leaned over and whispered, don't let them push you, so I gave back a little resistance.  They pushed a few more times until we both gave up and they pushed our foreheads together.

Then someone brought the Qur'an, and placed it on our laps.  M had to trace Surah Ihklas (‘Say He is Allah, the One, Allah is eternal and Absolute, He begets not, nor was He begotten, there is none equal to Him, He is alone’) on my forehead seven times with his finger. 

Then he took a ring, and dipped it in something similar to sindhoor, except it was silvery instead of red (I will have to ask him what this was), and placed it on the part of my hair seven times. 

After that, they brought a plate of halwa (sweet dessert).  They placed a small bit in my hand and then my girls took my hand and held it out teasingly to him.  His side pushed his head forward, trying to help him eat the halwa from my hand.  My side pulled it back each time, to keep him from getting it.  Everyone was laughing so hard!  This went on for a while.  One time he cheated, reached out and snatched it with his hand and ate it.  Another time, he got one of his little nieces to sneakily help him get it.  He had to eat the halwa three times.  Then he took a small spoon and gave me three tiny bites of the halwa.  

After that, the rasaams were finished, and we sat up on the couch for pictures, and gifts were given.  Each of M's relatives (as families) gave me a gold set and gave M's sisters, mom, and dad clothes. 
Then there was more song singing and drum playing in line with what went on at the Mehndi.  Finally, everyone began to leave, and we were exhausted and looking forward to the next event the next day, our reception.

M's idea of a funny joke while we were taking pictures. 

Wedding in Pakistan Pt. 3- The Nikkah Ceremony

So there I was, sitting in my sil's bedroom on the bed, waiting and wondering what was going to happen next.  It seemed like I waited quite a while, although it couldn't have actually been more than 30 minutes.  Later I saw the video of what was going on in the other room, and so I got an idea of what parts I missed.

So, the way the nikkah is done in Pakistan, the groom is in one room and the bride is in another.  Aside: The Nikkah-nama itself is the actual written contract that both parties sign, and upon signing it are married.  It is much more legalistic than marriages here.  For instance, I had the opportunity to write terms into the Nikkah-nama prior to the ceremony, I considered doing it, just for the heck of it, but decided against it, as I knew the contract would not be legally binding here in the U.S. and I didn't want to embarass M or his family by making it seem like I distrusted him by writing things into it.  (Although as a lawyer, I would have taken great glee in drafting my own clauses!)  Also written are the bride and groom's information as would be put in a marriage license in the U.S., and the amount of mahr (dowry) that the bride will receive.  I accepted my engagement ring (the value of it) as my mahr. 

Ok, so back to the nikkah.  While I was sitting waiting, all the men and M were in the other room and two Maulanas (religious leaders) were there reading dua's (prayers) etc.  The witnesses were filling out the required information about themselves into the forms (name, father's name, address).  M had three witness and I had three witnesses.  We also each had our own Maulana, who would then negotiate the nikkah on our behalf.  It was kind of like we each had our own "lawyer."  So M's "lawyer" recited the terms of the Nikkah to my "lawyer."  Then my "lawyer" came to my room to recite the terms of the Nikkah to me and get my approval of them.  All the women were in the room with me.  My mil sat next to me on the bed the whole time and squeezed my hand very tight.  I was so anxious and had a light butterflyee feeling in my stomach.  The veil was still over my face, so I could only barely make out the Maulana, but this is what he said "Do you Southern Masala, daughter of Dr. Ali Masala, take M... under such and such terms?"  I was so confused, who was Dr. Ali?  Had they told him that my dad's name was Ali so that he would think my Dad was Muslim?  Then I realized the Maulana was saying "R.E." my dad's initials.  I almost started laughing out loud, but I didn't say anything.  You see, M's Appi (aunt) had told me before the ceremony that I shouldn't answer the first time because traditional Pakistani brides don't answer on the first question (they have to ask you the same question three times).  That way they seem shy and modest and not eagerly rushing towards marriage.  However, this maulana knew that I was American, so when I didn't answer on the first time, he was really suprised and confused!  He was worried something must be wrong!  M's Appi and his sisters all said "answer! answer!"  So of course I said yes! And yes again and yes again!  I was crying then and so was my MIL, ha ha, from all the pent up emotion and happiness.

Then he stuck the nikkah-nama at the bottom of the veil, and I had to sign it, but I can't read Urdu, so I didn't know where to sign, so I signed on the wrong line at first, and they had to cross it out and then I signed on the right one.  Then my MIL put a small gold and ruby ring on my finger.

My Maulana went back to M's maulana and said I accepted these terms.  Then M's maulana recited the terms to him, and he had to accept them each three times.  The whole recitation is done in very sing songy Arabic, and M was sitting in between the two of them on the couch.  The whole time, I can tell that he is trying not to laugh (remember everything from M's side I have seen on the video), and BIL is trying not to laugh that was sitting across from him too.  Then M signed the nikkah-nama and that was it, we were married, but more waiting was to come, and then a lot of fun with rasaams (means traditions, have to wait to the next post)!

Our maulanas discussing the nikkah-nama.  My maulana is the one in the brown robe and M's is in the black robe.

Getting my assent to the marriage.  After thinking about it, I decided to say yes (j/k M, I knew yes all along!)

Here is a closer picture of the nikkah-nama.  That is me signing it. 

My MIL putting the nikkah ring on my finger. 

M in between the maulanas as they were reciting.  I can't believe he was laughing on such a solemn occasion!  

M signing the nikkah-nama.  Now we are married!  The red arm band is called Imam Zamin.  I had one too.  It is to keep away nazar (evil eye) and protect you on the start of your journey (in this case, our marriage). 

To be continued...

Lurkers?

According to The Gori Wife, it's national de-lurker day.  Do I have any lurkers on my blog?  If so, please say hi!  I promise you can go back to obscurity. 

BTW, the next round of my Pakistani wedding posts is coming out tonight, with pics.  Just waiting to get home from work so I can upload them!

Wedding in Pakistan Pt. 2- Getting Ready for the Nikkah

The day after my mehndi was the nikkah.  The nikkah is the religious ceremony where the marriage is legally solemnized, so technically after the nikkah you are married legally and Islamically.  For my nikkah we decided to make it a relatively small affair, at M's house, with just family and some really close friends invited.  I think ultimately there were between 30 and 40 people there.  I had already gone out and chosen my dress for the nikkah, which was a firoze green sharara with heavy yellow gold work, from Rizwan Mozzam, one of my youngest sil's favorite clothing shops in Karachi.  It was the only one of my wedding outfits that I personally chose myself.  All the others were picked out by sil and M before I reached Karachi, and then "approved" by me.  A sharara consists of a skirt, a top (relatively short top, not long like a kameez), and a duppatta.  The duppata on my sharara was very heavy, we'll come to that later.

Two days before the nikkah, I went to one of M's cousin's house to do a test run of my make up.  This cousin had a beauty parlor in her house (similar, but smaller than the one I had my mehndi done at).  I warned her about putting too much pale make up on me, since I am already a pasty face to begin with.  Many brides in Pakistan wear very pale make up, which looks fine when you have darker skin, but I didn't want to end up looking like a mime on my wedding day!  So she did the make up, and then we drove home.  When we got there, M about died laughing, he said I looked like a zombie.  She had put on too pale make up and really greeny-bluey eye shadow to match my sharara, but it looked awful.  I told my sil's that they had to tell her to go much much more natural for me.  I still had some misgivings about her doing my make up for the nikkah, but I couldn't say so, not wanting to hurt her feelings or cause any family tensions.

The day of the nikkah I got ready in the new big bedroom that would be "ours" once the nikkah was finished.  Although I had been in Karachi for 6 weeks, I had been sleeping in my sil's room, while M slept on the floor in our bedroom.  We had a new bed and he refused to sleep in it until we could both be there.  So he was sleeping on the floor.  So back to getting ready.  I got my sharara on, with help from my sils and M's Appi.  My hair was done up, and then M's cousin stepped up to do my make up.  I didn't look, but when she stepped back, she had done a wonderful job!  M's sisters had told her about what went wrong the first time and she corrected it all perfectly!  Then I put on my nikkah jewelry, two 24k gold necklaces, gold earrings, and rings, and green and gold churian (bangles) that covered pretty much my entire forearms.  Finally it was time for the duppata.  M's cousin placed it on my head, and using about a gazillion hair pins, pinned it into my hair.   It was so heavy!  Then she safety-pinned it into my hair for good measure, and then safety pinned one side of the duppata to the shoulder of my blouse, to create a really nice cascading look.  When I was finally ready, I had to be helped up to walk and move around, because the weight of the dress and accessories and moving around in my high heeled gold flowery chappals (sandals) was beyond the grace of my tomboy self :).

Finally, we made it down the stairs and into my sil's bedroom, where I was deposited and arranged, and then pretty much left alone, with some aunties and teenage girls, who basically just gawked at me and talked to each other.  I don't know if they could speak English or not, but none of them talked to me.  After seeing other weddings there, I understand why, because a lot of times the bride is supposed to me acting really sad and almost in mourning that she is about to get married, and not want to talk to anyone. So I don't think it was a snobby thing, just a normal thing at Pakistani weddings.

So there I was sitting and sitting and sitting and waiting and waiting and waiting...

Close up of the work on the duppatta of my sharara.

The jewelry I wore for my nikkah. M picked all my jewelry for me. 

You can see my earrings here.  These are fresh jasmine (motia) garlands that we got after the nikkah.

Once I was finished getting ready, they put this veil over my face.  Here I am pretending to be very sad and morose like a proper Pakistani dulhan. 

To be continued...

My New Year's Resolution

Oh no, has it really been over a month since I posted anything on here?  After I promised that I would restart this thing and even persuaded some of my old friends back here to read it and everything?  I am sooooo sooo sorry.  Can I make excuses?  Two trials out of town, Christmas, Muharram, fixing up our house, etc etc?  Ok, so one of my new year's resolutions is to write at least one post a week from now on and I really want to do better about it.  (And no, this doesn't count as my one post).  So I will be doing some more wedding posts, travel posts, catching up on the past 4 years of my life posts.  

For New Year's M had this cute idea that we should write down ten resolutions and seal them up (not let each other see), and then open them at the end of the year and see how many we kept.  (He even decided we should get graded, with 60% being passing!)  I have written my ten down, (actually 11), but I won't write them here, because I think sometimes he actually reads this thing.  So I will just say that one of them is to post once a week on here (at least!)