Wedding Bells, Wedding Bells — Wait, Whose Wedding Is It?!
There’s no way this is happening. No. Freaking. Way.
I felt my body freeze and stiffen like a dead-weight anchor had dropped suddenly to the ground right where I stood.
Ok, here we go. It was happening again.
I subconsciously noted my soul, or that’s what I think it was, floating above my physical body. Even through the fog, an obscure part of my brain scurried to remind me to track how long this episode lasted and how I felt so I could let Dr. Shah know during our next session. The reminder didn’t actually register itself anywhere — some voice in my head generated the command, and another voice said ok.
It was amazing, really, this drugless trip I was on, almost like I had special powers to observe, notice and record every little thing around me. There, on the other side of this vast and brightly decorated party hall, was my father, smiling as he shook someone’s hand.
Who is that Uncle? Is it Vishnu’s Dad? He’s back from Singapore? Oh, nice.
Appa looked so regal in his pristine white, custom-designed suit set with matching tie, socks, shoes, wallet, belt — the works. My heart skipped a beat in a way that only he could make happen; the only man I could ever love so strongly.
