Still the guitar gently weeps

It was the first Bangladeshi wedding of its kind in that city — two “young” people meeting, falling in love, and marrying, with no family in the continent, friends were all they had to share their joys with. The night before the wedding, there was a little get-together at the groom’s apartment. There was a lot of nostalgia, fuelled by intoxicants of many kind. 

And then the music came on — Bang-la-desh, Bang-la-desh … followed by a wailing guitar — there were no dry eyes in that room.