Take Me To Post Comment Form So, after taking a 9 day hiatus from The Signal, it's a little refreshing to be back to work.

For many of you who didn't know, I took time off from reporting so I could attend my sister's wedding. It was a traditional Indian wedding (and I mean the country India) --meaning it lasted several days and involved hundreds of people.

As we both lost our father almost 13 years ago, and as my sister's older and only brother, it was my responsibility to "give her away."

Needless to say, it was one emotional week. Festivities started on Wednesday (Apr. 9) and continued through Sunday (Apr. 13). The wedding itself was on Saturday morning, yet there are so many traditions and customs, Indian weddings are as cumbersome as they are fun.

Here is the timeline of all that went down:

-- Wednesday: About 100 family members arrived at my mom's house in Cypress (near Long Beach/Cerritos), where we had a big dinner. After dinner, we had a henna artist decorate the hands of all the females in the household.

-- Thursday: The morning started with a religious custom of the five closest females to my sister (other than my mom) blessing her in a brief ceremony.

Afterwards, a completely new ceremony started in the afternoon, where my mother and I did a ceremony of peace in front of a small, burning flame. That lasted about 2 hours.

Both ceremonies were performed by the same priest (maharaj) who would marry my sister two days later. This all happened in my mother's backyard.

Once the ceremony was done, the early evening was welcomed by almost 300 people packing the house. It first started with my sister greeting everyone down the street, and leading them in a procession toward my house. It took about 45 minutes as everyone was dancing and partying on the street.

The night finished with the second half of henna painting -- this time for friends.

-- Friday: The day was strictly for family, as it was the last time my sister would have lunch with her family before she wed. Later that evening, we'd party at a local hall, where we had a traditional folk/stick dance. It's really fun ... and exhausting. Festivities were over at 2 a.m.

-- Saturday: After sleeping at 3 a.m., I woke up at 6 a.m. to set up for the wedding. The ceremony itself started at 9 am at the Embassy Suites in Anaheim (by Disneyland).

The groom (who is on a horse) and his family trek through the parking lot (symbolic of walking from his village to the bride's village). As they come to the entrance of the wedding hall, they are dancing and singing. Everyone on my side is at the door, inside the hall, ready to welcome to groom.

My mom and I (and a few other family members) actually step outside to join the dancing and singing. I busted out my Indian drum and started playing it for everyone to dance to.

After some fun and games, my mom and I walk the groom into the hall, and sit him down under the canopy where the wedding will take place. About 400 people are there to witness the wedding.

After 20 minutes of customs with the priest, two of my cousins take a sheet and cover the groom's eyes so he can't see my sister come down the aisle.

At this point, she is led down by my mom's brother. It was the first time I broke down -- 25 years of an amazing sibling relationship flashed in front of my eyes. I was so proud of her, and she looked so stunning, I couldn't help but water up.

Once she got to the canopy and sat down, the groom finally got to see her -- in India, the groom is not supposed to see the bride at all until this point. Here in America, we just do it as a symbolic thing.

The wedding lasted another two hours, with lots of kids throwing flowers at the happy couple and adults cheering and tearing.

We all had lunch, then partied at the reception that evening.

-- Sunday: Perhaps the most laid back, yet also the most emotional day. My sister is supposed to be at the groom's home in the morning, and it's my responsibility to go pick her up from there before noon, so she could have one final meal with my family at our house.

At 5 p.m., the groom is supposed to send 5 guys (dad, and a few cousin brothers) to pick her up and take her back to the groom.

She loaded her stuff in the van and was driven away by her father-in-law ... the few of us on the driveway were in tears.

Of course, she came back home on Monday just to say hi and bug me, so she's not really gone.

Despite the slight feeling of emptiness I had on Sunday evening, and even though I couldn't sleep all night because of the emotion, ultimately this was the happiest week of my life. To see the smile on my mother's and sister's face, to celebrate with family and friends, and to finally have someone I can call a brother -- I don't think I'll be able to top this ... until I get married and I have some kids.

But what intrigued me about this whole thing is that, while I was born American and raised in the Los Angeles suburbs, is that I still maintained my sense of culture. It makes me appreciate the great life we have here in America, and makes me proud that I can still be an American while also keeping true to my roots. There aren't too many places in the world where we can do that.