Diwali in a Sari

I'm not quite sure when I decided that I hated everything "girly." All things pink went out the window in my quest to be "tough". But over the years I have given myself permission to indulge in feminine frills. There is just something about silk and lace and even the color pink that calls to me. This weekend I got an Indian dose of girly-girlness.

We spent Diwali with a friend named Shweta. Its a festival of color and lights. Houses are decorated in colorful lights, bright fireworks light up the sky and the tile floors are decorated with bright powered chalk. People are expected to be equally decorated. So Shweta and I went shopping for a sari. Now a sari is quite a miraculous invention. Its basically a long piece of material that is artfully wrapped and folded into a stunning formal dress. The ladies here wear them all the time and it is such a relief to see a clean colorful sari amid all the dust and rubbish that fill every other space here in India. I selected a pinkish-purple silk sari with golden thread sewn with sequins in the shape of a peacock. I thought it was beautiful. That girly-girl in me loved getting all dressed up. I felt like a princess sparkling in pink and gold!

To add to the festivities, Shweta's mother painted my feet (a tradition for married women on special occasions)and gave me the tikka to wear on my forehead. I was ready to do some celebrating! We painted the floor with colored chalk, lit firecrackers, and ate sweets in the name of Ganesh and Lakshmi. I wished I could wear a sari everyday. What ever happened to unrelenting femininity in our country? Do you think I could get away with wearing my sari there?