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  • Just my luck to end up with an ex-boyfriend, at an unknown couple's non-alchoholic fluorescent lit wedding, after the main festivities were over, obligated to stay for another four hours. India Standard Time was killing me — 7:00 p.m. became 9:00 p.m. without anything happening. A family friend of the bride was asked to sit next to me and make small talk. I'm not a small talker. I started concentrating on swatting mosquitoes. The children were getting antsy too. They started testing the empty stage. Would anyone get upset if they tiptoed up there? No, no one cared. Slowly then quickly, they got bold. Tiptoes turned into scampers and then all of a sudden the giggly girls were transformed into self-possessed performers — gliding across the stage with this timeless form and grace to the Indianized Kenny G style live band.

    At some age, most people lose this naturalness of movement. I know for a fact I lost it when I started doing gymnastics at age 8 or 9. Once someone tried to teach me how to use my body, I lost the ability to know how it really wanted to move. Thanks to an amazing yoga teacher, I'm grateful to have regained some of that range of physical expression that I went through my teens and twenties without.

    The wedding reception started finally. The couple stood stiffly in front of the throne while all the guests shuffled past to have their photos taken. It seemed like a solemn affair. Large LCD screens looped hideous animations of the wedding photography mashed up with puffy heart graphics, Indian flags and lots of sparkles. Everyone was trying so hard, but no one was really having any fun.
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