rite of passage

Well chilis, I have been unwell, passed out for a few days with some version of bronchitis and a viral cold. Apparently Bombay Dreams now understands the full meaning of my nuclear family’s belief that I am a bit of a hypochondriac. Since I slept for the better part of 96 hours, I am beginning to feel better.

What’s been interesting lately? I realized that an uncouth woman I encountered at the bank in January is a socialite/actress who bounced to India from Australia.

I saw one of many weddings in the street yesterday. Everyday you see a wedding procession blocking traffic. I wondered if this was special, this wedding. I saw some young women in salwar kamise dancing to the music of home made drums and horns and a glittery red and gold parasol shielding the bride or groom. As they walked/danced a man was sitting with his back to the street soaping himself into a thick sudsy lather. A woman hurried by in western clothes and streaked blond hair heading somewhere with purpose. Cars honked at each other to stop gawking and get a move on. The wedding seemed to be happening in the middle of an intersection. They were celebrating the occasion in a manner that suggested a day just a level above a normal day, not a momentous occasion. Marriage seems to be considered one of life’s milestones- like learning to walk, talk, feed self, potty train. This is curious to me as I do not think of having family and marriage as a necessary gateway to “adulthood”. I wonder where in history the concepts of marriage and adult life linked to each other.