Last year I was at a cousin’s wedding in Chennai (where else?). Alongside kaapi and kanjeevarams, I got a earful of the latest ‘grand experience’. The topic on everyone’s lips was the wedding the previous month, of the son of Mrs.Copper-Sulphate-Blue-with-mango-border-saree (visible in the distance) to his colleague. And why? Because ‘the girl’ was from Orissa.
“But you know, they are very nice people!” Mrs.Jamoon Pink was assured by Mrs.Neckpiece of Cleopatra-with-coins-dangling-on-it.
“Yes, they were just like us. Imagine that!” gushed Mr.2mm-grey-stripes-on-white to Mr.Something-between-coffee-and-cocoa solids.