A Wedding Memory and the Legacy of Tradition
In the days leading up to my wedding, the house felt like it had a heartbeat of its own. From the crack of dawn, the kitchen buzzed with purpose. Aunts from near and far gathered under one roof, sarees rustling, bangles chiming, laughter bubbling up between instructions and anecdotes. This wasn’t just preparation; it was choreography. A dance of hands and hearts.
Aunts from across cities arrived, draped in soft cotton sarees and stories. They gathered in the kitchen and verandah, bracelets jingling, hair pinned back, hearts wide open. Their mission? To make hundreds of ladoos, those golden, fragrant spheres of ghee, sugar, and memory for the groom’s family.
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