It wasn't every day I saw a wedding in my backyard where the groom was a banana tree. It was covered with turmeric powder, a white cloth, and a gold chain. The bride was my Aunt Leela, dressed in a blood-red silk sari with a golden border. Her outfit seemed to be on fire in the morning sun. She was adorned with gold chains around her neck, gold bangles on her wrists, and golden earrings. There were smudges of yellow turmeric powder on her cheeks and red vermillion on her forehead.. Her eyes were lined with dark kohl, and her hair was braided with jasmine flowers. Her lips were painted red. Her face looked whiter than usual with all that foundation. This was a stark contrast to her normal appearance in a salwar kameez, with a plain face and her hair in a ponytail. She stood next to the banana tree, which looked pale compared to her. She wasn't smiling. She didn't look angry or sad. She reminded me of the porcelain doll I played with—the one that would shout 'mama' when you pulled a string. My doll had the same expression despite the numerous times I pulled the string.