#Poetry ‘My Marriage Has Come To Pass’ by Fiza Pathan

My Marriage Has Come To Pass

by Fiza Pathan

It has come at last to pass,

My marriage is at hand in a few day time.

All these years I have been pondering

On an invisible consort

Among the pages of my Mills & Boons.

But by the decorative mehendi

That has been etched upon my palms

With a red gleam of blush,

I’ve found a husband.

There is a lot of rushing over the preparations of my binding day,

All my sisters now ring their golden bangles in glee

And the sun’s heat drenches

My salwar kameez of byzantine purple.

The piper goes on piping to his tune at day break

And the priest chants hymns to the god of love.

Jasmine flowers of white bedeck

My wavy long light brown hair

And my little nephew of three tickles my chin

As he takes my spouses holy name.

The kathak dancers have arrived to enclose

This conclave of festivity with their sprightly dance.

My dear sire looks about for the sweet meats

To distribute in gladness to all the flower girls.

They with their delicate nimble like fingers

Make up long garlands of rose petals,

There is orange, red and pink

My heart is all a glow with their fragrance.

Betel leaves are offered to the elderly ladies of the house

While the men sing the praises of my beloved one.

Who is this mate of mine?

What be his nature?

He is a stranger in sight to me

But the groom of my destiny forever.

My Mother sprinkles a sweet smelling yellow lotion upon my feet

Saying words about the eternal paradise of the wedded.

The whole ancestral home is running in haste to greet

Their new entrant into this new chapter of romance.

I am surrounded by my cousin sisters

Who tease me with their jovial giggles.

They are like enchanting Saturns

Revolving around the stationary Sun

Who be it but me who chews a walnut in hunger.

The horoscopes have a melody of stars following their charts,

We are made for each other.

To the gods are given holy sacrifices to please them

So that by the next monsoon upon my lap

Shall sleep a son, child of a past pregnant moon.

Today I am mesmerised by his achievements

And I shut my mascara heavy eyes in peace.

The odour of cooking oil from the giant pans

Rise up to provoke me to call out

His sacred name upon my dry pink tongue.

May this gaiety last for a lifetime in my senses

Until the ages pass on by towards the end

I don’t wish to be separated even in death.

Truly it has come to pass my marriage awaits,

The wedding of many families shall come to custom past.

Copyright Fiza Pathan

Image courtesy; Google images,

Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Mehndi.jpg