The making of a mother-in-law

The house was transformed into a vibrant spectacle, adorned with decorative cloth twisted into beautiful designs and a freshly painted exterior that glistened with a row of string lights. The green chappara, a stunning roof made of banana and mango leaves, signified an auspicious event, while flowers bloomed everywhere. Rows of lamps stood ready to be lit, accompanied by the melodious composition Bhagyada Lakshmi baramma playing in the background. The floor was adorned with delightful rangoli, accentuated by flower petals and coloured powder.

A seru, a kitchen measure, was filled with rice and a round of jaggery, waiting for the bride to gently toss it in as she entered the threshold with her right foot first. Ghee-laden diyas in the puja room awaited her touch to light the lamp. The scene, as you guessed it, was set to welcome the new bride.

But I, the new mother-in-law, was having a panic moment. "Hey, control yourself! You're the older and wiser one, the boss. Drop the nervousness and act your age!" I admonished myself, gazing at my reflection in the mirror, despairing at the beads of sweat on my forehead, melting the thin layer of makeup and mascara.

The bride, my son's friend turned wife, was no stranger to our home. She had visited us many times during her college days, and I had always made her feel comfortable. We had many lunches together. Back then, I had wondered if my son had a soft spot for her. "Is she the one for him? Will they be compatible? Hope they are mature enough to think and take it easy! Are they rushing into a relationship?” Their relationship became clearer when she followed him abroad.

Their decision to get married wasn't a surprise. She was pursuing her master’s degree at the time, and their relationship had grown into something deeply rooted and profoundly meaningful.

The next logical step was marriage, and the ceremony was conducted in a temple town with the blessings of the almighty, friends, and relatives. There was little time to process my emotions during the ceremony as I was busy attending to the guests. Now, as the bride was about to enter our home and life at the auspicious hour, I was overwhelmed with emotions. “I will be a good mother-in-law!” I had silently promised during the wedding ceremonies. “Welcome her with love, and treat her like a daughter.”

As I stood with the arti plate and the newlyweds approached the front door, I knew I had gained a daughter. “Welcome, my Lakshmi,” my heart sang out!