Aganthuka Manamali

O stranger bride,
smiling goddess,
on the unfamiliar height of the wedding platform,
o my familiar, well-loved beloved,
please gather up again the memories
we made in the rehearsal, that day

We met at the garden’s edge,
you smiled just like this,
keeping your image in my eye,
you hid against my shoulder

The little bundle of dreams
we made, sitting close to you, scattered,
kissing your brow gave me comfort,
and my two lips went dry

A tender wedding-day love song, sung to a bride who is, beautifully, two people at once: aaganthuka manamaali, a stranger bride, formal and new atop the unfamiliar poruwa (the decorated wedding platform), and yet hurupurudu premawanthiye, the familiar, long-loved sweetheart he already knows. He gently asks her to gather up, even now, the memories they made together at the wedding rehearsal, the private warmth beneath the public ceremony.

The middle drops into remembered tenderness. They first met at the garden’s edge, where she smiled just as she is smiling now; he kept her image in his eye, and she hid shyly against his shoulder. It is the ordinary, precious history the two of them carry into this grand, unfamiliar day.

The last verse holds the day’s mix of joy and nervous emotion. The little bundle of dreams they built sitting close together seems to scatter in the moment; kissing her brow soothes him, and yet his lips go dry, the flutter of a man overwhelmed at the altar. Sung by Randula Jayasuriya, composed and written by Tharindu Damsara, it is a warm song about marrying the person you already love, and watching them become, for one solemn moment, a radiant stranger.