A perfect setting for an exchange of vows

Some of you who actually read what I write, may be wondering why there was no description of the beach wedding itself in my last article. Patience is a virtue, I am told. So, now you get to read about what transpired by the sea.

It started out as another hot day. Where had we heard that Goa in January is the best weather-wise? As we boarded the buses to reach the venue, we found ourselves regretting being weighed down by all our finery. T-shirts and shorts would have been more appropriate to counter the heat and humidity.

But our preoccupation with the temperature soon disappeared as we sighted the expanse of white beach and blue waters. The resort bore the quirky name of Zeebop, the sound of which made us feel like breaking into dance.

The women had been advised to wear wedge heels as walking on sand in stilettos isn’t the most comfortable experience. Some of us opted for flats so that we could kick off our footwear, kick up our heels and feel the coolness of sand between our toes.

The flower girls (both aged under two) wore pretty sunshine yellow dresses and their parents had the tough task of trying to explain to them their role in the proceedings. All they did was stare at the crowds streaming in and shy away from adult fingers that tried to grasp their cheeks by way of admiration.

Oblivious to the instructions being issued in patient parental tones, they only came alive when a drove of photographers descended on them. Seizing the opportunity, they rehearsed walking down the aisle with their baskets of confetti.

Unfortunately, when it was their time to shine, they were nowhere to be seen. A while later one of them was spotted filling her basket with confetti lying on the ground instead of emptying it. The other had retired to the protective arms of her parents.

The bride and groom entered with their party of best man and woman, maid of honour and others. The couple faced each other under a canopy and said their vows which they had scripted. The words came as a surprise as neither of them had revealed to the other what they were going to promise. We could see eyes widening and a hint of a smile as each spoke about what they were prepared to do or be.

Suddenly our gaze shifted to the unusual sight of their Chinese friend seated near them with guitar in hand. We wondered whether he was going to break into song. But we and the bride were gobsmacked when the man of the hour started singing to the love of his life. There were moist eyes around as we succumbed to the sentimentality of the moment.

The cake cutting was another tradition with a twist as the groom was handed a sword to do the needful. This custom was courtesy of his sister-in-law’s husband who is Spanish. The operation required a certain amount of dexterity as it involved feeding the bride cake suspended from the blade. She soon found this certainly wasn’t a piece of cake. Each time she opened her mouth to bite into what looked like a dream made in cream, the cake would crumble. However, the third time proved lucky.

The rest of the evening passed by in a whirl of toasts, speeches and dancing. The piece de resistance for the famished was the spoilt-for-choice dinner that paid tribute to Goan cuisine.

The photo booth with funny props proved extremely popular with the guests. Donning the ludicrous accessories, they posed with panache.

The sea within walking distance proved irresistible and soon many had abandoned the venue, seduced by the moonlight. They strolled along the water’s edge, savouring the tranquillity after the frenetic action on the dance floor.