Poem
The Second Wedding, Arithmetic
A light companion poem to a comic novel about remarriage, counted out like a guest list.
Forty-two guests the first time. Twelve the second,
and somehow twice as much laughter in the smaller room.
One less father to walk her down an aisle
she has already, once, successfully walked.
The caterer asks if it's a 'small function'.
She says: no, an accurate one.
Nobody cries at the mangalsutra this time.
Everyone cries, quietly, at the samosas,
which taste exactly like the first wedding's samosas,
which is, of everything today, the most unexpected grief.
Note: Written for a friend's second wedding and, with permission, slightly fictionalised for print.
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