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While more than a billion people will be watching the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton, our Pendle bride and groom Catriona and Nick will be celebrating their matrimonial bonds at Bolton Abbey in Lancashire with a much smaller audience.

We have been following the preparations for their big day: with the reading of the wedding banns and at the landmarks of 50 days to go and 100 days to go.

And here's our gift to the newly weds: William and Kate; Catriona and Nick and all others who are getting married this year - An Ode to Marriage, a poem which we have written together contributions for it have come from all over the world. (see: )

An Ode to Marriage

Be prepared to be unprepared, they said.
Life is full of surprises and marriage is a carriage
that the two of us will ride along, sometimes holding hands,
sometimes folding arms, sometimes taking chances,
sometimes sharing glances,
both knowing that we are in for the long haul.
I had a look and the good book said
"Happy he who finds a wife -
there is no better thing in life. A wife is a good thing."
Marriage is the most beautiful thing in the whole world.
Her lovely face shining before me,
together we'll build a home of our own.
Am I the luckiest man of all?
I sometimes dwell on that thought.
Of course,
There are days we feel
we're sinking in a catastrophic mire,
Mother Nature's out of balance
and humankind's gone mad.
And we're constantly bombarded by predictions truly dire -
but we have chosen to survive.
And overcome instead.
Forgiveness flows and ripples like a river,
through our lives
and like the healing water,
forgiveness heals the giver.
Time opens people's eyes.
Sometimes peace is more important than being right, right?

A well wisher said to me, as I rested in the shade.
Marriage is like the four seasons, plastic surgery and an organ transplant.
Like you discovering a new part of you.
Every day anew.
Oh, how she escapes me at times...
Some say "Throw it out there and see what happens,
"Take one disaster at a time",
Words of wisdom, received and to be tested,
then trusted.
I'm happy that she enjoys things just because I enjoy them.
Comfort in knowing I make her happy just by existing.

In my reflective moments I think
we weave a cloth of life that would unravel
without either of us. Simple yet profound.
Though I never understood how a person
could be so mysterious,
fascinating and complicated.

A bird comes to my window every day,
carrying in its beak green leaves
from nearby trees, one at a time.

Like my bride. Bringing Spring into my life.

I don't take love for granted.
A promise of looking out for each other's best
over a lifetime.
Is all about the goodness of mind, and deed, and heart?
There must be more than that.
I suspect love holds the answers:
It takes two of us to make this world a better place.
We get to be different but same,
Individuals but one.
We get to see each other's souls bared in time.
See stars in each other, divine spark in our hearts.
Together we get to discover just what love is.
What does it mean for me to love her and for her to love me?
In sickness and in health explore life's colours we didn't suspect existed.
Learn how to extract nuggets of treasure from long discussions, how to please each other.
Learn who we are and who we are not.
A lifetime of joy, sweetness, tenderness, wisdom, stresses and peace all mixed together, makes us stronger and better.
Made for each other, from this day
we are together to stay.

Our Pendle bride Catriona shares her thoughts before the wedding day.

So, in the final days before the big day, it's all getting very exciting.

Everyone has started to gear up - from the florist to the ushers to our friendly neighbours (even the gardener has been going crazy planting extra flowering shrubs - I haven't the heart to tell him the wedding celebrations will not actually take place at home).

Currently I'm alternating between major excitement - calling for Champagne as we embark upon a four-day celebratory extravaganza - and complete panic and nervousness (and wondering if, out of the six or so doctors that will be at the wedding, who is likely to be most obliging if I ask for something to calm me down.

For those that read the earlier blog, I am not so much nervous at the prospect of getting married, it's the whole being the centre of attention for an entire day in front of 100 people that sets me off...

Today has been a day of action (rest and relaxation is being saved up for the honeymoon).

I've checked in with the florist.

The driver needs a map and a timing plan.

The reception venue need final name places and table names.

And 30 vases need to be delivered to Ilkley (we're self supplying vases, don't ask.. and thanks mum and Jane, if you're reading this).

My other task for this evening was to finishing making the bridesmaids presents.

I was planning to spend the night before the wedding having a low key drink in our local pub.

However now it looks like my present creation is going to have to happen then, as is my pre wedding wash, blow-dry and hair rolling session (so my hairdresser informs me).

If I'm speedy I can sort the present stuff out in just under an hour.

But can you go to your local pub in rollers the night before your wedding?

The police in Scotland are investigating the sending of parcel bombs to the manager of Celtic - one of the big football clubs in Glasgow - and to a lawyer and a politician.

Devices addressed to the Celtic boss, Neil Lennon and his lawyer Paul McBride were intercepted by the Post Office.

The third, was sent to Celtic supporter and former deputy presiding officer of the Scottish Parliament Trish Godman and was delivered to her office.

Neil Lennon, who's a Roman Catholic from Northern Ireland, has previously endured threats, abuse and violence on a number of occasions.

Much of the support for Celtic and their main rivals Rangers - known collectively as the Old Firm - is historically tied up in religion.

were founded by an Irish Marist brother - Walfrid - and historically draw their support from the descendants of Irish Catholics who emigrated to Scotland after the Great Famine.

were founded by brothers Moses and Peter McNeil, Peter Campbell and William McBeath and have traditionally drawn support from Scotland's mainly Protestant community.

As a football fan with nearly half-a-century of experience, I'm aware of the long-standing sporting rivalry between the Old Firm on the pitch, as well as the sectarianism that clouds the relationship between their supporters.

The threats have been roundly condemned throughout Scotland and the Rangers assistant manager Ally McCoist, was swift to describe the culprits who sent a parcel bombs as "evil and sick".

I was already a ³ÉÈËÂÛ̳ journalist, when in 1996, teenager Mark Scott was killed by a man who picked him at random from a group of Celtic supporters as they walked home past a Rangers pub in Glasgow. And in May of 1999 a man was charged with murder, following the death of Rangers fan John Ormiston, just hours after an Old Firm clash with Celtic.

In the years since their deaths, sectarianism has reportedly continued to plague Scotland - claiming the lives of many other young men, scarring and maiming countless others from both sides.

Cara Henderson - the founder of an anti-sectarian charity and former girlfriend of Mark Scott once said, "one of the problems is that debate on this has been limited to the Old Firm rivalry, so people view the violence and abuse as football hooliganism and they can say, we're not football hooligans. But this is not just about football fans. The bigotry is alive and well in the middle classes."

However, the Crown Audit in 2003 has shown that football is not the main source of sectarianism in Glasgow and at most, a quarter of religiously aggravated crimes in Glasgow are football related.

Nonetheless it's football which is seen as the focal point of a tendency towards male tribalism and macho culture and for that reason, I've chosen to talk about football.

I happen to live in north London, so geographically the nearest club to my house is .

Over the years I've noticed myself developing a fondness for the club, though never having been at the Emirates Stadium.

I have also noticed that little by little, I've started to develop a feeling of animosity towards Arsenal rivals, and if the last minute penalty is given against the opposition I see it as fairness, whereas if a referee gives it against 'us', naturally I see it as an abuse to my basic human rights.

Sometimes my wife says sarcastically to me, "why are you taking them so seriously, the players don't share their millions with you, don't worry for them, after the loss they are not a penny poorer..." Rationally I agree with her, but emotionally nothing helps.

So I'm telling you about a random bond - but imagine for a second that three generations of your forefathers supported one of the Old Firm clubs - that you were born into this tradition, you were bred with it and you haven't seen anything outside of it.

The easiest reaction to show after reading the news about the parcel bombs, is to be appalled by and condemn this blind belief, especially if you have nothing to do with it, but as my humble experience shows, it's much more complicated when you are involved with the story.

A friend of mine, an Israeli-Russian writer Dina Rubina once said, "many Russian friends come to Jerusalem and preach to us, asking, 'what is that you can't divide between yourselves and Palestinians? You have the same blood, the same history, the same traditions'. These naive preachers don't understand that what we can't divide is God..."

But paraphrasing Mahatma Ghandi, I also understand that 'an eye for an eye would leave the whole world blind'.

Here's another piece of news that came in, which preceded the first one and might have somehow instigated it.

'Neil Lennon believes it might take the approach taken by UEFA to tackle sectarianism in Scottish football. Rangers could suffer draconian measures such as having to play European games behind closed doors as they fight two UEFA disciplinary cases over alleged sectarian singing at their Europa League games against PSV Eindhoven. Lennon feels such a threat could help tackle the problem in the long run. However, he doubts whether Scotland will ever be totally free of the blight of religious bigotry'.

Yes, the institutions could play their part in rooting out the problem of sectarianism, anti-sectarian education in school could also 'teach controversial issues, the exploration of social values and the fostering of active participation' according to Curriculum for Excellence, recommended in Scotland.

But ultimately if not all, at least part of the problems which we see in 'others' lie in fact in 'ourselves' and my small experience of developing a bond with a local football club, shows how in parallel we develop our own prejudices, which then cloud our outlook.

Going to Pendle, Lancashire this time, I have decided to spend some time in the shoes of my old and new acquaintances.

Though I'm not a qualified farmer or a licenced mini-cab driver, but I could be handy here and there - I thought; also I'm a quick learner.

I started with the Bed and Breakfast.

Rachel, the B&B owner, whom you may already know willingly agreed to take on an extra pair of hands. Let's see how it's gone.

Despite sharing the scepticism of Hercules, if I find I have the patience to do this day in and day out, I could explore this avenue as one of the possible future prospects of mine, I thought to myself that night.

The next morning I joined the team of Colne mini-cabbies. I must say that there are quite a lot of cab companies, and the competition for customers is rather intense. But let's first take a look at our time in the mini-cab.

When I got back to base, and spoke to Aftab the dispatcher, I understood why people in Colne use taxi so easily and often. The fixed price to get anywhere within Colne is just £3. So if you are travelling with someone else it's even cheaper than taking a bus.

And last but not least; recently I saw in the news that Pendle council banned kamzoles and shalvars (national clothes) worn by some cabbies. I asked a driver if it is true. He laughed and replied: 'Here's democracy for you!'

If you think that life here in Pendle or wider in England is getting quite tough, think twice. At Rachel's Bed and Breakfast I met three retired Irish ladies, who drove here all the way from Ireland for... shopping. They were so excited by the fact how cheap bedding and clothing is here, that they'd spent their savings on them to stock up. I also discovered in conversation with them that they were great experts in horse betting: 'Bet on any Irish horse and you won't lose' - was their ultimate tip. I received this tip on the day of Grand National horse race and though I have agreed with the local pub to spend my time seeing the world through their eyes, the Grand National followed me there too. But first let's see the pub.

Next I depart to see the world through the eyes of a farmer. In fact I drive there. And in fact not there, but to a completely wrong farm. A farmer, to whom I introduce myself, is quite puzzled why I turn up at his place, but we work out together that the farm I meant to be is a bit further up. Finally I make it. Once again it's better if I share my experience with you visually: 

Having tried out some of these new for me professions, I thought I should tell about them too and returned to journalism. According to the famous Roman saying: 'Either do something worth telling or tell something worth doing'.

Some two weeks to go till the Royal Wedding between Kate Middleton and Prince William. But if you remember we are also following another wedding in Pendle, Lancashire, of Catriona and Nick.

See /blogs/worldservice/writerinresidence/2011/03/50_days_to_go.html and /blogs/worldservice/writerinresidence/2011/01/pendle_chronicles_100_days_to.html.

I went to Pendle to see where their wedding will take place and rather than telling you about the beauty of the location, I have decided to show it to you - it's better to see once, than to hear hundred times, as Uzbeks say.

When I was two or three years old, before going to bed my Granny always read me the same strange poem, which I hardly understood, but which I unwittingly repeat now before falling asleep.

Ten to 15 years ago when my son was a toddler I would sing to him Uzbek songs and recite the best of Uzbek poems every night.

I hope that he will unwittingly remember them when he is in my age.

The greatest of Uzbek poets (our Shakespeare) Alisher Navoi of the 15th century said in his memoirs that before starting to write poetry he had learnt by heart 100,000 lines of classic poetry.

And it's neither exaggeration, nor his imagination.

There's an anecdote about that epoch, showing that everyone at that time was a poet.

Alisher Navoi was playing chess with another poet called Binai and while stretching his leg touched the bum of his adversary.

He joked: 'In Herat wherever you stretch your leg you are doomed to touch the bum of a poet!'

Binai quickly replied: 'Even if you pull your leg back it's still the bum of a poet!'

But poetry lives everywhere, in every society, in every corner of the world.

Once I travelled with an Afghan student who knew by heart several thousand lines of poetry because of his school curriculum.

Another time I met a Talibani leaders who discussed the best of Russian poetry with me.

Every spring one particular Uzbek poem springs to my mind and I repeat it again and again.

Novdalarni bezab g'unchalar
Tongda aytdi hayot otini,
Va shabboda qurg'ur ilk sahar
Olib ketdi gulning totini.

Har bahor ham shu bo'lar takror,
Har bahor ham shunday o'tadi,
Qancha tirishsam ham u beor
Yellar meni aldab ketadi.

When the apricot tree blossoms

Flowers have decorated the branches
Calling the name of life at dawn,
And naughty wind on the first morning
Stole away the aroma of the blossoms.

Every spring the same is repeated,
Every spring passes the same way,
No matter how I try, those shameless
Drafts deceive me and leave for good...

This poem was written by Hamid Alimjan in the 1930s amidst Stalinian repressions, when both my grandfathers were taken from courtyards with blossoming trees to be shot dead as 'enemies of people'.

Do I remember that or is it just a breath of poetry, which deceives me every time with its own beauty?

I'm sure that you have a poem, which you know by heart and keep it close to your heart.

Please send it to me in any language with your translation and some words explaining why the poem is so dear to you.

Then together we'll weave a garland of poems to mark this blossoming spring.