Resting in Kashmir

Morning in Kashmir
Waking on the houseboat, this day, I am the only guest. But am I a guest, when they call me family, Mum, and treat me with great reverence? The day begins with sound, everyday begins with sound, the mosque callsradiating across the city, eagles screeing over the water, traffic, at first occassional, but with the light building into honking and tweeting along with the roar of motorcycles and the rumble of trucks. Birds scratch on the tin roof. Workmen, who are refinishing the ornately carved furniture, arrive for the day, to their work station just outside my window.
After a deliciously hot shower and delightfully cold rinse, I go back to the family home, for the morning tea and bread. And talk. Always talk.
No self-service for independant me, as the elder, I am taken care of with the fine china and my own special pot. And, I guess, my own special blend, as my request is always little or no sugar, somewhat of an oddity in this culture that loves sweets. The baby is crawling amongst us, and outside the children are playing , no school today, as it is a wedding day.
Soon we will be dressing up in our finery to go for the exchange of rings. For this ceremony we will be served tea and cake, and I think it likely, a meal. My first time, I was surprised that the women weren't eating the cake (men were in another room), as it was wonderful. It wasn't until after the cake plates were cleared and large platters of rice and meat were brought in, that I understood the reticence about the cake!
The wedding will take place over three days, as there are many rituals to meet. Each day will get a little longer, the clothing more elaborate, and the food more complicated.
Away I go!