I am the Wedding Photographer Who Took These Photos.
The yellow marigold garlands hanging in strands on the front door, twined with fairy lights in red. The bride’s father, blessing the bride before she is handed off to the groom. The bride in red and groom in white sitting half lotus on the floor, the priest and fire in front of them. The bride and groom walking around the fire, the inexhaustible witness to their union. The groom putting the red sindur powder on her forehead. The bride smiling, with the sindur powder dropping to her nose. The buffet table with a thousand items, wish I could capture the smell. The groom’s mother, looking frazzled, searching for something. She is looking under tables, lifting the tablecloth. Someone gave her a metal detector, and she is swishing the floor with it, like it’s a vacuum cleaner. Her kajal smudged on her face, had she been crying? Dancing to Bollywood music, the groom’s father kissing the bride’s mother, his hands squeezing her butt. The bride’s mother and the groom's father walking towards the door. The bride running towards them, holding her saree up.
Ani Banerjee is a retired lawyer and an emerging writer from Houston, Texas, who was born in Kolkata, India. Her flash fiction has been published in Swamp Pink, Lost Balloon, McQueen’s Quinterley, Dribble Drabble, and others and nominated for Best Small Fiction and Best of the Net.
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