Lakshay Weds Shambhavi!

The calligraphy on the splendidly crafted backdrop highlighted our names in cursive encompassed by various decorative as well as lavish embellishments done around the wedding Pandal. It looked breathtaking.

I was finally going to be married and I won't lie that I didn't get any wedding jitters. Right now, the whole of my body was feeling as if it was kept on the pyre. I was the bride, I was meant to grab everyone's attention and eyes which I was perfectly seizing already without any intentional efforts. And, my heena-clad hands were sweating profusely due to the side-effects of several assessing eyes bestowed upon me.

My smokey eyes were busy scrutinising the red carpet as if it was the most magnificent sight to witness as per my mother's stringent advice. She strictly asked me to not look directly at anyone as that might lead to rumours like ─ the bride is too upfront and bold. I sighed and continued my carpet-gazing game.

Let me give you an outline of how I looked on my D-day as I am completely free right now other than gazing at the boring red carpet.

My head was having a Mangteeka playing peek-a-boo through the partition of my hair. A designer Bindiya was resting in between my brows and, my eyebrows were perfectly donned to a sharp, angled arch, giving me a renewed look. A positive difference, of course. My heavy, golden earrings were swaying beside my hair, my hair was tied into a perfect bun with glitters like things attached to it. My lips were painted red, my chubby cheeks were loaded with pink-hued blush.

I was asked to put on a smile ─ not too curvy, not too straight with my teeth fully screened behind my jaws because of the fear of the onlookers, commenting, "Dulhan ke daant to khargosh jaise nikle hue hain".

(The Bride's teeth are like that of a rabbit)

My heena-designed hands were full of Red bangles, playing the musical sound of chan-chan. I just remembered the very popular song 'Bole Chudiyan'. But right now, from nowhere the most depressing song for a bride started to play and I definitely wanted to kill the DJ for this.

'Baabul ke duayein leti jaa...ja tujhko sukhi sansaar mile'.

I so desperately wanted to glare at the Dj for his blunder but the ethics and etiquette of a prospective bride suddenly leapt inside my head and I could only signal my best friend for this task.

Pooja ─ my best friend since childhood and also a mother of a four-year-old understood the bizarre sin the DJ was committing unknowingly and after teaching him a lesson of occasions and suitable songs for that, finally, the tunes were changed into something sparkling and cheery.

'Kehne ko jashn-e-bahara hai'.

I heaved a sigh of breath and my eyes landed on the abundant amount of pieces of jewellery I was laden with from head to toe. It was the testimony of my father's entire life's finance and savings.

A remembrance from the past was going to make my mood sour but I decided to keep that thought at bay. I didn't want to make this day agonising and bitter at any cost. After all, my in-laws were not the only ones who asked for dowry.

Pooja's parents too gave dowry, my cousin sisters' parents too gave dowry.

It was as normal as breathing to give dowry to the groom and his family. Fundamentally, the guy was going to bear the girl's lifetime's expenses, he was the sole trustee of the bride for the lifetime now. He would give all of him to her.

A big house to clean, sweep, mop; a big family to take care of, to cook for; and in the future, the birth of children and then their upbringing.

The groom would bestow numerous priceless things to the bride.

So, in exchange for that, a small sum of money was nothing compared to what the groom was to give to the bride.

I understood this Doctrine of Philosophy clearly after having countless discussions with many of the espoused girls. And, I was fine with the formalities that my family was doing for me.

But a small part of me still felt guilty about this.

I moved back to the present and after noticing some steps to the stage, most probably, my eyes automatically glanced upwards and I caught the majestic sight of my would-be husband.

He looked so handsome.

If I was a cartoon character, hearts would've already started oozing out eyes towards my would-be. He looked that stunning in his tuxedo.

Lakshay Ji was on the stage, waiting for me with a smile playing on his lips along with his friends & family. When I was just going to put my feet on the stage, he extended his hand to uplift me to the exquisitely decorated stage.

I immediately lowered my eyes again after my mother motioned me as Kanpur city always desired for Sundar, Sanskari Kanya not some bold, modern bride as their daughter-in-law who looked in the eye.

(Beautiful, well-cultured bride)

Ignoring all this, I nevertheless gazed at the velvet rug but inwardly, I was beaming a lot.

My groom was handsome, I was elated about this fact.

And following in footsteps or just copycatting the Indian marriage vogues and customs, I was photographed with Lakshay Ji in countless poses, then his friends and family too came for photography and lastly, my friends and family likewise arrived for making the greatest memories with me ─ their beloved daughter, sister, niece and what not.

Varmala took place; I and Lakshay Ji exchanged floral garlands around each other's necks, followed by hootings, whistles, claps from the Baraati & Saraati sides. And this was the very first foundation for the night-long customs, rituals, and traditions to uphold.

(Baraati - Groom's side guests; Saraati - Bride's side guests)

It was four in the morning when the sacred rituals assuredly came to an end.

I was now a married woman and a colossal amount of tears was flowing out of my colossal-Kohl applied eyes because the Vidaai time was nearing and that senseless DJ was all set to play the most depressing and tear-igniting songs for me.

Babul Jo tumne sikahaya...Jo tumse paya......

I glanced at my family and their misted eyes hit straight at my heart resulting in my grievous wailings and sobs.

No matter how strict my father was, I will always miss his bedtime stories, his old spectacles. His obsession with news channels and newspapers.

I will miss my mother who was always there with me in my weight-loss program. She was traditional, she scolded me a lot but she was still my mother. How could I not miss the person who raised me up, who gave me almost everything!

And, then my elder brother, who always stood by me whenever Maa Papa was angry with me. He was the one because of whom I could complete my Post graduation. My Doraemon.

I hugged Bhaiya and cried like never before. He too was weeping silently.

"Khayal rakhna apna, Shambhu. Aur chinta mat karna kisi cheez ki bhi," his assuring words instead of calming me down made me cry more.

These were his last words to me when he handed me to Ma and Papa. I cried some more but it was as if Kanha Ji himself gifted me a whole tanker of tears today that it was not ending.

("Take care of yourself, Shambhu. And don't worry about anything".)

These cries were the predicaments of the end of my bubbly, carefree, single life and the commencement of a new beginning that could either have a positive upshot or a negative shore, so much unpredictable as the waves of an ocean.

After sobbing on the shoulder of everyone I knew from the Saraati side, I was coerced to sit inside the very car which my father had gifted my husband in dowry. The same BMW that Lakshay Ji had selected for us. At that moment of time, I wanted nothing but to go back to my parents but it was impossible now.

As they say and I quote,

"Shaadi ke baad ladki parai ho jati hai".

(After marriage, the daughter becomes a tenant)

I so wanted to scratch the face of the human who made such agonistic practices for women. But right now, I was busy scratching the inside of my palms. The sudden flow of emotions was taking a toll on me, and unknowingly, my eyes closed down.

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The real journey of Shambhavi starts right after this very chapter. Stay tuned!