I found it a bit odd that I was given a white Saree to wear for my wedding ceremony. As a Maharashtrian I expected to be decked up in green silk. However an inter-caste marriage meant I would wear what I was told. The Saree was a beautiful white with a broad red and zari border that has endured with time; the stark white softening and the gold dimming over the years. It is heavy, as were the kanjeevarams 35 years ago.
Today, it lies untouched, wrapped in gauze, ensconced in memories, waiting perhaps to be worn again. To me, it embodies the spirit of Indian tradition where the soft subtlety of white balances the passionate excitement of red as the bride embarks upon her new journey.
I am sure there is a ‘one and only’ for many women!

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