Oh, it’s a beautiful, orderly affair, not like the loud, Bollywood-style weddings you see in films. The minnu is our sacred thalikali, tied by the groom, and the manthrakodi sari is draped over me with prayers—it feels like a blessing, not just a ritual. For me, the real moment was in that quiet church, the scent of jasmine and frankincense, when the priest placed the minnu and my father handed me the thirumurivu, the veil. The whole *karyam* felt like our old, quiet wealth: understated, deep-rooted, and far more about faith than show.
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