Shubh Vivah (Happy Matrimony)

Exhausted she sat down on the small cement covering on the drain outside her future home.

She was the center of attention sitting, almost on the narrow road lined on both sides by the drain, which was open at most parts. The small, irregular cemented houses, each colored differently added to the ugliness like the people living in them. These impolite neighbors were curious about the young bride sitting like this and the loud arguments heard from the house; some pretended to do chores and moved in and out of their houses to catch a glimpse of her while others just stood at the variously shaped gates of their walled houses to stare at her.

She wore a wedding dress, a red and gold salwar kameez. Her palms decorated with heena and hands filled with the auspicious red and white bangles called chooda. She still wore jewelry from her wedding, the gold pendent on her forehead, the gold necklace and bangles were all her father’s life savings.

Suddenly, her eyes welled up and she sighed out loud. She clutched to the red suitcase of her belongings and white handbag so tight that her nails left an impression on her palms. She had to; this was her world, till she was allowed inside.

This was all so different; it was all supposed to be so different. As a kid, all blessings were that she will marry a prince. As a girl all dreams were that she will have a perfect marriage. Her grandmother often said that she wanted was a life long enough to see her wedding. The dolls and their dresses; love stories; romantic movies and soul-stirring music all embellished her dreams like precious gems.

Then reality smacked. She was not the most beautiful and most amazing girl that her family believed she was; she was not the princes that every prince wanted to marry. She rejected many and many rejected her, before the alliance of dreams became the most daunting tasks for her parents.

She lived through a nightmare when on days she wondered why she could not get married when everyone seems to be tying knot; on other days she believed that she was complete and could lead a beautiful life, happy by herself; on some other days she was reminded that adjusting in name of matrimony will be so much better then the loneliness of old age and there were days when she thought the marriage will at least bring an end to this turmoil.

Her father was obsessed to get over his last responsibility. Her mother almost frenzied with the thought that she would leave her daughter without a family when she died. All intensions were good. But she needed a groom to get married.

Desire was taken over by logistics just like that dreams with overpowered by reality. The qualities sought in the groom fell to the bare minimum and her inputs if negative were rubbished more promptly.

When her marriage was finally fixed, it was relief for most of her family; including her. It was the destination of a long winding road; an answers to her prayers and a reason for her to resume her life.

Her wedding was no different than other Indian weddings. Her parents spent their life savings in preparation of the reception, dinner and ceremony besides spending on her ornaments and dresses. It was the moment of their social pride, childish wishes and desperate attempt to woo their daughters to-be family. That is why when the groom asked an enormous amount of dowry at the wedding, they could not say “yes” and when her brother’s jobless friend proposed to accept her as his bride, they could not say “no”.

They let go of her with their blessings and a suitcase.

Her forlorn eyes stared without reading at the tag on her suitcase, which said Shubh Vivah (Happy Matrimony)