Everyone loves a royal wedding…

Yup. Me too. I am at work and struggling to churn out features as is mandated by my self imposed work tasks of the day, and I have the Royal Channel on standby on an open browser. The ticker tells me it is one hour and a few minutes to go before the live broadcast of the wedding will begin.
My heart is thudding in nervous anticipation. I’m not even in London. Far removed from any allegiance to the crown and I’m excited. Come on. This is a commoner marrying a Prince. This is Cinderella happening in real life, never mind that this Prince and his Cinderella lived in for well over a few years, and thank the lord no one is going ape shit anymore about how the future queen of England needs to be a virgin, look how happy a marriage that made for Princess Diana, god bless her soul.
I’m a sucker for a fairytale romance. Sigh. What can I say? I grew up on a steady diet of Princesses being elevated to top dog in palaces simply by winning the hearts over of random Princes by getting themselves in trouble and being incredibly pretty. Ah well, I learnt from the stereotype and bagged my uncrowned (but definitely documented royalty) Prince by getting myself into situations he needed to come and rescue me from time and again, like going to college during curfew time, getting stuck in university on a day when the heavens flooded the city and so one so forth. Princes of yesteryear, read twenty years ago, were nicer too, they came up galloping on their trusty Bajaj scooters to rescue one. Modern day princes just expect you to get yourself out of the situation you’ve got yourself into, they’re too busy applying the sunscreen and fairness creams out there in the market for them.
Ah well, I digress.
50 minutes to countdown, says the ticker on the Royal Channel on Youtube. Pray that the electricity and the net connection behaves. I see the guests filing into Westminster Abby, with hats which are absolute frights what with dead birds and assorted plumage sticking out oddly, sure to impair viewing of the ceremony of those unfortunate enough to be seated behind. Some of the tophats, to go back to Plum’s Uncle Fred, are just begging to be knocked off by a quick well aimed pebble. I’m marvelling at the amazing restraint in colour shown by the women, if this was India, the guests would have blazed in every colour in the spectrum, with the bride obliged to wear the brightest blingiest thing ever, along with every item of jewellery in her trousseau box just so that she stands out. Here the palette is muted pastels, and soft hues. Everyone considerate enough so they don’t outshine the bride. Not that, one thinks, that could be technically possible.
44 minutes to go.
Kate must be a mass of nerves now. Her dress and make up will be in place, her hair will be done, her stomach will be churning with anxiety, she will be wondering how life will change for her completely once this is one, and how irrevocable the split from being ornery Kate Middleton to the Duchess of Cambridge will be. I know the feeling. Ah well, not of being Duchess of Cambridge, but the anxiety that grips the pit of the intestines just before one squares one’s shoulders and gets on with it, and goes out, smiling beautifully in order to be the most radiant bride one could possibly be.
39 minutes to go
I think back to Kate’s deceased mother in law and think of the giant sized shoes her feet are being thrust into. There seems to be already pressure for her to emerge as a style icon in the manner of the late Lady Di, something she seems to be capable of doing, but whether she can be the People’s Princess is something only time will tell.
30 minutes to go
And I’m tempted to get into the only formal morning dress I own and practise my curtsies. I feel swept along by the anticipation and the energy surrounding this event, though for the life of me I dont know why I should be, the larger than life ness of it all overwhelms me. I live vicariously.
25 minutes to go
I’ve polished my eyeballs and am sitting down for the show. Damn. I’m teary eyed already. Irrevocable proof that I’m now a matron, that I cry at weddings, even before they start, that too of folks I don’t even know.
20 minutes to go
Damn. I wonder what her dress will be like.
Okay. Am off. Over and out.

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About Kiran Manral

Author of The Face At The Window, ( 2016), Karmic Kids, All Aboard (2015) , Once Upon A Crush (2014) and The Reluctant Detective (2011).
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7 Responses to Everyone loves a royal wedding…

  1. Writerzblock says:

    Aww I utterly loved that narration.. pretty much how I felt too, though I cannot express it half as well as you did!!! And I so agree with you on the elegant muted shades of outfits the ladies had worn (as well as the crazy hats!)

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  2. M says:

    Hope you watched and enjoyed the awww factor through the ceremony! I got up at an unearthly hour and remained glued to the TV – all the channels were showing it, so enjoyed flipping from one to the next for the next snarky remark on the hats and clothes! Did you see Posh’s heels?? And the York princesses lack of taste was as evident as ever 🙂 Am now going back and laughing at the pictures of the more outrageous hats!

    M (a wedding junkie, not just of Royal weddings)

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  3. dipali says:

    My royal siesta took precedence over the royal wedding (which I completely forgot about, though I had remembered in the morning), but once I was up I was glued to the TV watching the pageantry and pomp and splendour and shedding some matronly tears myself!
    Loved your account of it. I was seriously worried when Prince William struggled to put on the ring!

    Like

  4. dipali says:

    There’s an award for you on my blog.

    Like

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