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not see the guests she knew were seated beyond the partition a few feet away from her, just past the propped open double doors. Twin ropes of jasmines and marigolds framed the entrance; the decorator had also incorporated the neon red number one sign above the door into a floral banner that now read 2 Become 1. Cheesy, but cute, thought Kalyani. It had been tough deciding between Matrimony Box Office and Temple Golden Village as their wedding venue. Sanjay had plumped for the latter because they were throwing in free popcorn to occupy the guests when Kalyani would exit the ceremony midway to change from her engagement saree into her bridal one. But Kalyani had been sold on Matrimony Box Office’s virtual rice- blessing feature; instead of having the guests flinging handfuls of coloured rice at them when Sanjay tied the sacred yellow string around her neck, the 70-foot high screen behind them would instead shower down digital rice on the nuptials. It is less wasteful, said Kalyani. Sanjay did not argue. Hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor behind her and Kalyani turned slightly to see her Aunty Roja and Uncle Ram, huffing up the slight incline. Her aunt was cosseted in a bright red silk saree and a gloriously inappropriate amount of jewellery; the diamonds in her earlobes glittered under the downlights as she turned to her husband and hissed: “I told you we were late, look the ponnu is about to go in. Why did you insist on the basement carpark when we could have just dropped it off at the valet? Now there are only going to be seats left in the back row.”
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