The celebrations began on November 25, 2025, with a mehendi in Lunuganga’s gardens. Saffron, marigold and blush-toned flowers were woven through the greenery, and handwoven textiles introduced colour that complemented the estate. A watercolour artist painted portraits of guests against the estate’s pond and gardens, turning each one into a postcard they could take home.
Adka wore a mustard Anita Dongre lehenga embroidered with flowers, beads and sequins, along with gold jewellery that had belonged to her grandmother and great-grandmother, as well as pieces collected by her mother for her wedding. Kannan wore a white kurta and a waistcoat embroidered in sage green, ivory and yellow.
A drizzle began during the afternoon, though the dancing continued. Even Adka’s grandparents joined in, and the sight of both families carrying on in the rain became one of the memories guests continued to speak about.
That evening, the wedding party moved to the oceanfront Jetwing Saman Villas for the sangeet. The sea sat beyond the candlelit space, where family performances continued late into the night. Local ingredients ran through the drinks menu, from raw mango with Sri Lankan gin to pineapple jam, basil and lunu dehi.
Adka changed into a midnight navy Shantnu & Nikhil gown with a corseted bodice, tonal embroidery and a pleated chiffon skirt; Kannan wore a navy suit. During his speech, he surprised her with an emerald and diamond necklace he had designed with BP de Silva, the Singapore jewellery house founded by a Sri Lankan family in 1872.
Before working on the piece, Kannan had read books and articles on jewellery design. He chose an emerald, his favourite gemstone, and drew the necklace’s curved form from the waves around the island.
The Hindu ceremony was held the following morning beneath Lunuganga’s tree canopy. A mandap of white flowers and clay vessels sat within the garden, where the couple incorporated customs from Adka’s Karnataka roots and Kannan’s Tamil heritage.
She began the ceremony in an aubergine Kanchipuram silk sari from Angadi Heritage, woven with a geometric gold zari pattern. Among her jewellery was a ruby ring made from a piece once given to her great-grandmother by her father, which Adka’s mother later had reset for her.
For the oonjal ceremony and thali tying, she changed into a vivid pink Kanchipuram sari from Tulsi Madras. Relatives gathered around the swing to sing, bringing the Tamil ritual into a ceremony that had already made room for customs from both families.
For the Elai Saapadu, served on banana leaves after the ceremony, Adka planned the menu with her mother’s best friend and brought in two chefs with a personal connection to the bride. One was her own; the other had cooked for her mother’s friend’s family for 40 years and had known Adka since childhood, promising over the years that he would cook for her whenever she married.
Through the morning, Adka was amused by mongooses peering from corners of the estate, including one that appeared as she was getting ready. She decided they were Bawa’s pets checking that she remained on schedule. “They were probably just after food,” she admits, “but I like my version better.”
