A wedding in India is wonderful.
A family wedding in India is something else.
This one was in Mysore.
Four days. A thousand people. Heat, colour, noise.
I’ve been back in Australia a week now.
The smells and sounds are fading.
But not the ritual.
What stayed with me wasn’t the scale.
It was that everyone knew what to do.
From nine to ninety, they stood at the same moment.
Prostrated together.
Circled the fire in unison.
No one checked their phone.
No one seemed uncertain.
For a few hours at a time, the outside world paused.
All attention settled on two people being blessed.
I realised I’ve never really experienced that in my own life.
We gather.
We sing “Happy Birthday.”
We clink glasses at weddings.
And then we drift back to our corners.
There’s nothing wrong with that.
But something felt different in Mysore.
There’s a steadiness in knowing when to stand.
Over the past few years, I’ve started doing something small at family celebrations.
Before the cake is cut or the meal begins, I stand up.
Nothing formal. Nothing long.
Just a few words.
“Let’s just pause for a moment and think about why we’re here…”