History Repeats

1954

When we got home after the wedding ceremony, my new husband and I were both too exhausted to think of anything but diving into bed and getting a good night's sleep, since we were leaving for a ten day honeymoon to Gulmarg, Kashmir early the next morning.

I disappeared into the bathroom to change out of my wedding finery and literally let my hair down. The beauticians had stuck hundreds of tiny pearl studded pins  into my coiffure and getting them all out was quite a chore. With my arms raised above my head to find all of them, I glanced into the mirror and was horrified to discover the colour from the sari blouse had bled  and stained my armpits a deep pink. I was too tired to immediately do anything about the problem, so Sud and I had a chuckle over this weird phenomenon before finally tucking ourselves in for the night.

When I next spoke to my mother on the phone I joked with her about my brightly coloured body parts, and said I was surprised that she had never mentioned that  the colour of the original cape which I had converted into my blouse, would run. She burst out laughing and told me the same thing had happened to her on her honeymoon in 1954.

She only noticed the arm pits the next morning and when she self consciously asked my father why he had not mentioned anything, he mumbled sheepishly that he thought it might be some strange Indian  custom for fertility, or some other tradition to ensure a happy wedded life, and  had not wanted to appear foolish or ignorant by bringing it to her attention.

Mother and I had a good giggle over the way history sometimes repeats itself in strange and unforeseen ways!

1983