Saturday, 22nd June, 2019
We slept in a little late. The house was quiet. When everyone was up, we kept it simple after such a big day. But Sunday was another big day so we found things to do to make the next morning easier, and the day slid by.
Naomi and Rana had a date with one of Rana’s Toronto family so we let them know we would make our own way to Ajax, where a bus was booked to take us all to the reception.
But first there was some drama. When I went to get the black pants Moh was lending Krish, the door to that room was locked. There followed a frenzied conversation with Moh, who blamed himself, through me from Krish, who also blamed himself. It mostly went something like this abbreviated version:
Moh: Break the door down
Krish: I can’t do that
Moh: BREAK IT!
In the end, we broke it.
Dress, shirt, and pants ironed. Uber ordered, ready to leave.
On the way out, Krish discovered he didn’t have the front door key. More panic! Then Krish remembered he had put the key in his jeans, which he was resorting to when we thought the black pants were out of reach. The Uber arrived and off we went with a talkative Sri Lankan man. He’d lived all over the world, even cooked in Paris, but was now living in the eastern suburbs of Toronto, finding it ‘the best place in the world.’
We were the first to arrive for the bus. Then everyone arrived and piled in and off we went. Another drama! The bus driver, having cruised along with no problem started to make some weird turns. He turned North instead of South, then west instead of East and I had no idea what he was up to. The cry took hold. ‘Do you know where you’re going, young man?’ asked Tulsi patiently but firmly. No response. Eventually though, he did tell us that there were problems ahead. Yet still we seemed to be meandering until we all had to collaborate on a map and direct the driver. We should have known things weren’t that smooth when we read the signs in the van.
In contrast to the other days, today it was all formal Western wear. Everyone was dressed in evening gowns and formal suit and tie. At the front foyer there was an open bar – people flocked to it.
When they opened the doors, it looked like a fairyland, all silvery and glittery. Very pretty!
I seem to have not taken so many pictures so I might pad this out a little when I see Naomi’s. In the centre of the hall amidst the tables was an island filled with an appetiser selection. The food was now far from Italian – it was Mediterranean, mostly Italian. There were meats, cheeses, marinated vegetables, salads, different sorts of bruschetta. I filled a plate and could have eaten this all evening.
We were sitting at Table 7 with some of Krish’s cousins, including Naomi and Sean. Also Gop, Ariya, and Annabelle, as well as cousin Sham. I hadn’t seen him for about twenty years. He looked very prosperous and sombre. We tried to joke with him about the shenanigans from the old days, but he had no more than a slight, indulgent smile on his face. The other cousins teased him mercilessly about his choice of the name Sean, which he insisted was his name. I’d heard this story before but kept quiet. Sean was his middle name, his first being Sham – the name of his estranged father. While others tiptoed around the subject, the cousins jovially reminded him ‘You’ll always be Sham!’
Then dinner. First a huge portion of both tomatoey pasta and risotto (I took just the risotto), and then the main course – salmon and chicken. This was followed by a trio of desserts. Despite having been very hungry when I arrived, I left a lot on all of my plates.
We were hustled outside by Krish’s cousin, who was MC for the wedding.
We were apparently going to be announced to the guests, couple by couple. Moh had also asked us a day earlier for a music selection and we chose London Calling. It was only slightly horrifying. And we were expected to give speeches. Moh had asked us earlier about this and we’d let him know we didn’t want to. Later, Moh asked Krish again and Krish had been working on it for a few hours. When he wasn’t around, Rana and I took a peek at what he’d written – on his tablet were two words – My brother. Hmmm. But nothing more had been said about speech. I was off the hook, or so I thought.
In fact, I had decided to prepare something, just in case. I scribbled down some honest thoughts and stuffed them into my little purse. Nothing more was said about it untl we were outside waiting to be announced, my notes in my purse. ‘You’ll enter to the music and it would be nice if you’d dance or goof around a bit. You know how that goes.’ No, I didn’t! Horrified again. ‘Stand in front of the stage when you get there and then we’ll tell you when to go up and give your speechES.’ Argh.
Krish was saying ‘No way for dancing,’ so I suggested we take the London theme to heart and do a regal wave as we walked. And so we did. Soon over but ugh.
Krish reassured me that he’d give his speech and it would do for both of us. But up on stage – another argh – he dried up, then teared up, during his speech after turning his iPad down and saying ‘Oh, I’ll just speak from the heart.’ And they announced my name. No choice. I said as much as my speech as I could remember – maybe half of it and done.
They showed a very cool video showing the story of Sharon and Moh, which was more or less centred around the Raptors. I realised that the day they’d visited us on Markham Street they had been filming a part of this – that gave me a smile. They both gave a speech, none of which I remember.
Then time for their first dance. They hammed it up, then everyone else came to dance. I’m not one for that but Krish’s Uncle Pet came to claim me and I tried to ignore everyone else. Gop was also herding me over to the bar frequently. I must have had five shots that night. Not sure. And then later they brought out some more food – there was a pizza station, a poutine station, a crepe station, probably more and I missed most of it, other than a slice of decent pizza, since I was sitting outside with Krish getting some air and quiet time.
There were photo obligations – I have yet to see them and don’t care if I do. I’m sure they will show up despite my misgivings – and the night wore on. Around 1am they closed the bar and we slowly gathered our things and our wits and went home to bed.
Sharon and Mohan’s wedding – all the blogs