December a season of happiness

The months have flown by, and so did December, one of the loveliest months of the year. There is a crisp feel to the air, and the winter flowers have begun to show their blooms — dahlias, roses and all the other delicate flowers that cannot blossom in the heat.

Best of all, the wedding season has arrived. People have already begun to receive exquisitely designed cards to weddings, musical evenings, 'holuds' and 'mehendis'. The cards are so beautiful that sometimes I enjoy just gazing at them, marvelling at the wonderful designs.

It is time for the ladies to bring out the heavy silk saris, the embroidered tissues, and preciously hid jewels for the many events that will take place. There will be festive weddings at venues richly decorated with lights, candles, arches and canopies, draped with exotic blooms, garlands of roses and jasmine, or fragrant lilies in pink and white, or many other combinations, all symbolising a season of hope, happiness and dreams for a new life.

Weddings are filled with pleasure in many different ways. For me, one of the greatest pleasures is in admiring the beauty of the decorations. I especially recall one outdoor wedding, where it seemed a hundred candles had been placed around the bridal dais, the whole venue backed by a trellis of hanging lamps and leafy plants, a magical setting against the night sky.

On other occasions, I saw great halls draped with white orchids, as in some pale tropical paradise, or covered over with arcades of pink and white blooms. I loved one wedding in which the room was designed to look like a rich dark forest, illuminated by the glow of golden lamps suspended from the branches of trees.

In addition to the weddings there will be musical soirees featuring ghazals, wedding songs and shehnais, dholki evenings, and dance performances in the days leading up to the main event.

For each one, there will be elaborate settings with different colours and themes. For those who create these fantasies, and most of all for those who are willing to pay the price, the fairy tale, ethereal and unique combinations are endless.

After the decorations and the preceding events, the next pleasure is in viewing the bride and groom. In most cases the grooms look like most grooms — nice interchangeable young men, but the brides are dazzling, radiant and bejewelled, dressed in costumes in all the colours of the rainbow, some in ivory, to go with diamonds or emeralds, some in pale pinks, some perhaps in traditional red to set off the multi-layered necklaces of rich gold, and more rarely, in blue to bring out the colour of cornflower-blue bridal sapphires.

Many of the female guests wear their richest clothes and jewels in honour of the season. I love admiring some young women's perfect heart shaped emerald rings, some other friend's magnificent Burma ruby necklace, the glittering diamonds and intricately wrought gold, but I have also enjoyed seeing creamy pearl necklaces with chiffon saris, like my own mother-in-law sometimes wore.

I remember one occasion when she was already past fifty years of age. When she entered the wedding dressed in her pearls and a pale grey chiffon sari dotted with sequins, almost everyone in the room turned to look. But then she had been a well-known beauty all her life.

For the senior generations of guests, who do not notice clothes and jewels, but do prize traditional fine cuisine, the most important and memorable thing will be the biriyani!

The perfect biriyani must be rich, pale and full of potatoes. Even the most elegant and distinguished of people can sometimes be heard calling 'aloo aano'. For these connoisseurs, there are also other fine points to be noted, so sometimes there are murmurs of there not being enough saffron or ghee. Such complaints are rare though, because the food is almost always superb.

In my opinion, Dhaka biriyani is the best I have ever eaten. The meat is pink and tender, the spices perfectly balanced and delicate, and the potatoes incomparable, tender morsels roasted to a soft gold. Not for me the so-called biriyanis found elsewhere, muddled in with green chillies and cilantro, or concoctions masquerading as biriyani, with tomatoes, raisins, nuts and red chilli powder. Even the famed biriyanis of Hyderabad and the United Provinces cannot compare with ours, but of course, I may be a little partial to everything from Dhaka.

December is almost my favourite month. And for reasons…