‘A Crowded Place’ by Alysha Kazmi


I hate weddings. I hate the noise and I hate a crowded place such as a wedding hall.

“Welcome! Welcome!”, the voices greeted us as we stepped on the long, white marbled staircase which led to the wedding hall. The giggling and gossiping of girls about their floor touching gowns were aching my ears. Their heavily embroidered gowns with uncountable layers of cloth beneath were kind of irritating me. The humongous beads on their dresses were shining bright like diamonds. When they moved, it reflected straight into my eyes. The noise of the banging drums were echoing in my ears. “Bang! Bang! Bang!”. I could see the sticks in the drummer’s hand hit and bounce off the drum in a specific sequence.

The midget-like girls stood in a long line that looked like a train to me. They showered handfuls of fresh, red roses on us as if we had we had won a battle. I stood there still for a second and watched the petals slide on my magenta, silk dress. It felt refreshing. I could imagine a huge garden laid with several bed of roses ready to sacrifice their beauty for us. I could just hear the roses plead as the stiff, giant hands of the gardener plucked them. How cruel?

That moment of realisation was suddenly interrupted by a tall, bulky woman who threw her arms around me and squeezed me. I could feel my face in between her breasts. The size of her arm was equal to my whole existence. That one hug was followed by several others. They were stuffy, sweaty, stinky and suffocating.

Followed by the stampede of aunties was an enormous, freshly scented wedding hall which managed to lighten my mood. The stage was flooded with bright, yellow sunflowers sprinkled with water. In between there were orchids which prevented the body odour and maintained the freshness around the stage. The base of the stage was decorated with silk draping all around with shinning pearls fixed in between to add to the beauty of it. The hard work of the decorators could be seen and felt when you touch them.

While I busy appreciating the beauty of the stage, the families hurried to book themselves a suitable place next to where the food was served. I also sat with my family in a corner and just took a moment to absorb what was happening around me.

A round table with soft, cushioned chairs which had all the elderly, old women of the family on it was placed right in the centre. Their wrinkled faces, broken teeth and shaking hands made them the most unique. The boredom was right there on their faces! I could feel them. Some laughed with difficultly while some even slept with their sinful mouths dropping. Those ladies were totally unaware of the world.

At another corner of the hall was a long sleek mirror also decorated with orchids. And what would you expect in front of the only mirror in the hall? Girls! Laughing and taking selfies with weird expressions on their faces. They thought of themselves as some Disney princesses while the mirror stood there laughing at them and actually showing them the reality. Poor them, indeed.

As I revolved my eyes around, I saw a young being pulling his mother’s shirt and begging her to feed him while she was busy chatting on her phone. His screams pierced my ears. Tears were falling down his chubby cheeks like little raindrops.

Everywhere my keen eyes went, all I saw was a herd of people at every corner of the hall. I wonder how people can gather so often and able to tolerate each other? Aren’t they tired of it?

About froebelianwriters

I am an English Language teacher teaching O'Levels Edexcel and CIE A Levels at Froebel's International School, Islamabad. I am also working as a Subject Specialist Literacy consultant for the same school. Writing and reading has always been a passion and I try my utmost to instill these habits and hobbies in my students as well. I can be reached/contacted at fabbas227@hotmail.com or 03365287335 Happy reading!

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