My new book – The Secret Diary of a Bengali Bridezilla
Regular readers of this little blog may know that I dabble in a bit of writing, to the point that I published my debut novel – The Secret Diary of an Arranged Marriage last year, whilst 9 months pregnant and when we’d just entered lockdown.
Well, here’s the follow up, The Secret Diary of a Bengali Bridezilla!
I wanted to create a strong theme for the book that’s in keeping with my debut The Secret Diary of an Arranged Marriage. I hope this has achieved that.
If you’ve ever been to an Asian wedding, you may recognise some of the touches – the henna-painted hand, the samosa starter and the favour bag which threatened to undo our heroine. This book lets you join her on this crazy journey as she tries to pull of a feat of unimaginable proportions.
Just like my debut, The Secret Diary of a Bengali Bridezilla offers lots of laughs and some emotion thrown in, too.
Here’s an extract…
The Secret Diary of a Bengali Bridezilla
A Bengali game of thrones
As I sit on my makeshift throne, squirming at the sight of samosas that I’d devour on any other day, I notice a little mesh bag on the table above my untouched plate of starters. This tiny drawstring bag, aptly the same shade of green as the Bangladeshi flag, contains a date fruit, a single Cadbury’s chocolate and a peanut brittle.
Then I remember. This small, unassuming drawstring bag has been the source of great angst over the last few months. This single, innocuous item threatened to drive me bat shit crazy as I threw myself headfirst into planning the biggest day of my life, leaving a debris of disgruntled loved ones in my wake.
Now, somewhat calmer, I wonder why the bag was such a big deal. Maybe it was my attempt at clawing back some control over what was supposed to be my day? Maybe I was clinging to the hope of pulling some strings behind the scenes. Maybe, just maybe, I wanted a small part of this wedding to be classy, expensive. You know, with some extra special touches.
I guess, just like mum, I wanted to keep up with the Mahmood’s and have a big Bengali wedding that had all the trimmings and more. I always take the mick out of her for trying to compete with our almost-perfect cousins, but when it comes to the crunch, I’m the same. I’m every inch my mother’s daughter and I want a wedding that people will talk about.
Now we’ve arrived at the day itself… I don’t even care for peanut brittle, though I do like chocolate.
The point is, I’m not sure what the fuss was about. Why I was fretting so much over a bag of sweets?
Sorry, where are my manners? Allow me to explain…
Remember how I said you’d be invited? Well, pull up a chair. They’re about to serve starters.
I’m getting married, you see. No, for real this time.
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About the Author
I’m a British-Bengali Muslim mum-of-two. My pictures aren’t filtered and neither are my words. I’m not a makeup artist, chef or lifestyle guru. I’m just me, sharing honest beauty reviews for brown skin, halal restaurant finds, travel inspo, mum life hacks, easy Bengali recipes and more. If that’s your bag, keep reading!