Pramod & Shraddha

Pramod & Shraddha Wedding

Bangalore’s sun pressed down on November 11, 2022—Shraddha’s red silk clung where sweat pooled low on her back, Pramod’s starched Karnataka mundu biting creases into his waist as he knelt. Light glared off temple gold. No poetry. His thumb slipped twice on the thali knot. Her mother’s cry during kanyadaan snapped the mangalsutra thread. Seven steps. Saptapadi smoke stung their eyes. Silk wrinkled. Breath shook. Your Story didn’t flinch: rice like hot stars in a palm, sindoor smeared on Pramod’s shoulder when he lifted her, the tear in his mundu as they ran through Cubbon Park dust. This gallery holds salt. Sweat. The weight of forever.

Client

Pramod & Shraddha

Date

11 November 2022

Wedding

Bangalore | 11.11.22

Her red silk stuck where sweat pooled under temple gold.
His starched white mundu — raw Karnataka silk — bit creases into his hips as he knelt.
Mandap light too harsh. Incense too thick.
Pramod’s thumb slipped on the thali knot. Twice.
Turmeric paste dried like river-crack on their wrists.
Seven steps. Saptapadi smoke stinging their lashes.
No one warned how anklets would leave raw lines on Shraddha’s skin.
Or how Pramod’s “…sakalam…” would catch like cloth on thorns.
Silk crumpled where knees met stone.

Your Story captured the moments.
Rice like falling sparks in an uncle’s grip.
Sindoor blooming on Pramod’s shoulder when he lifted her post-vows.
These aren’t frames. They’re living moments:
“Forever” tasting of payasam steam and trembling breath.