The wedding I helped prepare for was my cousin Ayesha's, about two years ago in Lahore. It was a three-day affair, as most weddings are in Pakistan, and the main reception was held in a marquee on a cricket ground near her parents' house.
Since I was the only cousin with a car and no exams that month, I became a sort of unofficial errand runner. I spent the fortnight before the wedding driving between the tailor, the caterer and the flower market. I also helped design the seating plan, which sounds simple but turned into a real diplomatic exercise, because certain aunties absolutely couldn't sit next to each other. On the mehndi night I was in charge of the music list and the lights, so I was up a ladder stringing fairy lights at two in the morning.
As for how I felt, it was honestly a mix of exhaustion and pride. There were moments when I thought I'd snap, like when the caterer rang the day before to say half the chairs hadn't arrived. But when I saw Ayesha walk in and the whole place looked exactly the way we'd pictured it, I felt a lump in my throat. I think helping made me appreciate how much invisible work goes into a celebration that guests enjoy for just a few hours. It also brought me much closer to my aunt, because we spent so many late nights solving problems together. These days, whenever someone in the family has an event, I'm the first person they call, which I take as a compliment.