“Can I have a moment alone?” I asked my giggling friends as they fluttered around me like butterflies, ohhing and ahhing at my dress and jewelry. “Sure, darling. Just don’t get nervous o.k.?” cajoled my best friend. “O.K” I laughed to assure her. They went out one after the other. “What prank shall we play now?! I don’t like that friend in the cream Kurta. He is so snobbish. Come, we have to bring him to earth”, I could hear Zahra’s naughty words. I smiled and prayed for the safety of the ‘Cream Kurta’ or rather the body in it.
Sigh. I looked at myself. I did look lovely. I was wearing a heavy zardosi lenga choli. It was the typical red and gold bridal wear. I had on me the gold set my mother and his mother gifted. My hands were beautiful designed with intricate mehndi and my face was powdered and they had put some red lipstick which I immensely disliked. I got up and went to the door and latched it. Why I did that, I did not know. Surely, I wasn’t going to do anything crazy? Then why was my hearting beating so fast?
Today was my wedding. My wedding. Those words were so frightening that I felt my eyes water. I controlled my emotions less my kajal went for a toss. I had dreamt of this day since I was five. When along with my friends we used to run to see the bride’s face and then the groom and compare who was more beautiful or more handsome. I pictured myself sitting someday on that chair. When I would be the princess and everyone would fuss over me. When I would get all those lovely gifts and get to wear all those pretty dresses. Yes, I had looked forward to this day since I was five. I had exactly what I dreamt of: pretty dresses, gifts and attention. Yet there was one thing that was missing. Happiness, Joy. A feeling of ecstasy, of fantasy. No, none were there. If there was anything I was feeling, it was fear. What was I doing? Was I really going to get married? Did I really say yes?
I started pacing up and down my room. May be it wasn’t too late. May be I can still say no and everything will be fine. But how could I? My parents, they would be shocked. Heart broken, if I do this they may never get over it. I know they would forgive me in the long run but how could I overlook the pain I would inflict. No, no there was no way of saying no. not this late. Not with the groom waiting downstairs. The Sherbet party was going on and soon all of us would leave for masjid where our nikah would be said. And from there, I would be bided goodbye from my family to my unknown future. An unknown husband and unknown family.
Knock. Knock. I jumped! “Rehana, open the door beta, it’s time to go”. “NO!!” I was screaming. Only it was a silent scream that I alone could hear. I walked towards the door like a zombie and opened it. My mother stood there smiling. She hugged me and kissed me on my cheeks “Oh, my darling daughter. We all dreamt of this day to see you as a bride and see how fast it has come”. I kept quite. I was scared that if I said something, I would mess everything. She sat me down on the bed as she got the dupatta to cover my head and face. My friends came in giggling. “You won’t believe what we did to that kurtawala!” as they went on to describe their prank and his shocked reaction. I smiled like a plastic doll. All made up and for all I cared, going to the glutton.
May be I could faint. Yes, that would be a great idea. I would not be blamed and no one could point a finger at me. Later on I would seek out the man I am to marry and plead him to withdraw from this wedding. Or may be I would meet with an accident and go to the hospital and be there for a few weeks in the ICU. I would be safe in a germ-free environment.
We reached the masjid. No, there was no accident and I was too faint to try to faint. The nikah ceremony started. Deep inside I was screaming. I was so nervous. What if he is a monster? What if his mother burns me? What if he divorces me because I don’t cook well? What if I never have any sons, will he hold it against me. I had seen enough of the world, I was no girl.
“Do you agree to this nikah?” the imam sahib asked me. I kept mum. “Do you agree to this nikah?” I kept mum. “If you do not speak the third time, we shall conclude that you have agreed. Do you agree to this nikah?”
“No I don’t!!!!” I screamed. I got up and ran for my life, I was not going to be burnt and I was not going to cook and cook and cook all my life. I ran and ran and ran until I slumped. I was out of breath.
“Mubarak ho! Mubarak ho!” Everyone started hugging one another. I realized that I was still dreaming and had not really screamed. Imam Sahib took my silence as a yes and now I was married. Married!! I was married!!
And that is how I started my married life my dear daughter. I was naïve, foolish. My husband and your father turned out to be a wonderful man. I was not burnt but I had to cook of course. I can say that in his own way, he has loved me and protected me all my life.
Today you start of your life, and I don’t know if you have any apprehensions. Certainly not like mine I hope… but know my dear. Its natural.
Therefore, don’t go fainting on me!
I love you my daughter. God bless you!
Sigh. I looked at myself. I did look lovely. I was wearing a heavy zardosi lenga choli. It was the typical red and gold bridal wear. I had on me the gold set my mother and his mother gifted. My hands were beautiful designed with intricate mehndi and my face was powdered and they had put some red lipstick which I immensely disliked. I got up and went to the door and latched it. Why I did that, I did not know. Surely, I wasn’t going to do anything crazy? Then why was my hearting beating so fast?
Today was my wedding. My wedding. Those words were so frightening that I felt my eyes water. I controlled my emotions less my kajal went for a toss. I had dreamt of this day since I was five. When along with my friends we used to run to see the bride’s face and then the groom and compare who was more beautiful or more handsome. I pictured myself sitting someday on that chair. When I would be the princess and everyone would fuss over me. When I would get all those lovely gifts and get to wear all those pretty dresses. Yes, I had looked forward to this day since I was five. I had exactly what I dreamt of: pretty dresses, gifts and attention. Yet there was one thing that was missing. Happiness, Joy. A feeling of ecstasy, of fantasy. No, none were there. If there was anything I was feeling, it was fear. What was I doing? Was I really going to get married? Did I really say yes?
I started pacing up and down my room. May be it wasn’t too late. May be I can still say no and everything will be fine. But how could I? My parents, they would be shocked. Heart broken, if I do this they may never get over it. I know they would forgive me in the long run but how could I overlook the pain I would inflict. No, no there was no way of saying no. not this late. Not with the groom waiting downstairs. The Sherbet party was going on and soon all of us would leave for masjid where our nikah would be said. And from there, I would be bided goodbye from my family to my unknown future. An unknown husband and unknown family.
Knock. Knock. I jumped! “Rehana, open the door beta, it’s time to go”. “NO!!” I was screaming. Only it was a silent scream that I alone could hear. I walked towards the door like a zombie and opened it. My mother stood there smiling. She hugged me and kissed me on my cheeks “Oh, my darling daughter. We all dreamt of this day to see you as a bride and see how fast it has come”. I kept quite. I was scared that if I said something, I would mess everything. She sat me down on the bed as she got the dupatta to cover my head and face. My friends came in giggling. “You won’t believe what we did to that kurtawala!” as they went on to describe their prank and his shocked reaction. I smiled like a plastic doll. All made up and for all I cared, going to the glutton.
May be I could faint. Yes, that would be a great idea. I would not be blamed and no one could point a finger at me. Later on I would seek out the man I am to marry and plead him to withdraw from this wedding. Or may be I would meet with an accident and go to the hospital and be there for a few weeks in the ICU. I would be safe in a germ-free environment.
We reached the masjid. No, there was no accident and I was too faint to try to faint. The nikah ceremony started. Deep inside I was screaming. I was so nervous. What if he is a monster? What if his mother burns me? What if he divorces me because I don’t cook well? What if I never have any sons, will he hold it against me. I had seen enough of the world, I was no girl.
“Do you agree to this nikah?” the imam sahib asked me. I kept mum. “Do you agree to this nikah?” I kept mum. “If you do not speak the third time, we shall conclude that you have agreed. Do you agree to this nikah?”
“No I don’t!!!!” I screamed. I got up and ran for my life, I was not going to be burnt and I was not going to cook and cook and cook all my life. I ran and ran and ran until I slumped. I was out of breath.
“Mubarak ho! Mubarak ho!” Everyone started hugging one another. I realized that I was still dreaming and had not really screamed. Imam Sahib took my silence as a yes and now I was married. Married!! I was married!!
And that is how I started my married life my dear daughter. I was naïve, foolish. My husband and your father turned out to be a wonderful man. I was not burnt but I had to cook of course. I can say that in his own way, he has loved me and protected me all my life.
Today you start of your life, and I don’t know if you have any apprehensions. Certainly not like mine I hope… but know my dear. Its natural.
Therefore, don’t go fainting on me!
I love you my daughter. God bless you!
3 comments:
This was a GREAT story.
You write very well.
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