Dholi, the royal ride .

To be carried in a Dholi, am told I need to wear a choli, a two piece ensemble with a lehengi.There was much discussion of the intended event, during a recent excursion. The night before I added a piece of clothing to carry, none other than a handy, versatile dhoti . So the dhoti came along, lest I rode the dholi, to be tied as a lungi and draped as a saree, to act as both, the choli and the lehengi . Dressed incongruously, I was sure I would feel displaced, when lifted up in the dholi , and would definitely be the butt of many jokes.

I imagined, teetering above the ground, viewing the scene around, being reminded of a popular song of the nineties, that was ringing in my head, and could soon be on the lips of many. A song of impropriety, that once took the world by storm and captured the hearts of every man, the song that catapulted an unknown star to notoriety and certain stardom. Oh but none of that for me, as I dreamed on, of being jostled in the dholi, waiting to alight from my unstable perch.

And I thought, not a bride, not a princess, but a woman so old, who had seen the best and the worst of life . Rocking in the Dholi, would I be filled with regret, for the times that were or could have been. None of my musings manifested in reality, fortunately the morrow brought not, a ride in the Dholi but the experience of an outing so beautiful, a walk into my childhood, .