A June wedding. That’s what has been
decided so far. She is the happiest she can ever be. After all, Indian girls live
for this day. For their new lives to begin with freedom. With love. She
remembers her sister’s wedding. It was almost as if she could feel her sister
breathing in her.
In less than two months, her
parents will give her away in marriage to a groom better than the one of her
dreams. She didn’t know so many butterflies lived in her stomach. Were they little
caterpillars asleep in their cocoon waiting to come out as beautiful butterflies
and take over her stomach on this day? She felt so light. Almost as if if the butterflies
fluttered their wings with a little more force she may fly away with them.
Oh! The preparations! She has
been to so many different stores but didn’t find a single wedding dress of
perfection. Partially because she couldn’t get enough of her fiancée. They are
always on phone. Their parents had arranged them to be married. An arrangement
that turned to blind love for each other in a matter of a phone call. Yes, they
have never met each other. They trusted and respected their parents’ decision to
go with the flow.
Modern technology has helped them
change the arranged marriage to one of love. Constantly exchanging pictures and
messages. Pictures not only of them but also of their house after the wedding.
Their home. The groom lives far away from his parents because of his work and
his parents didn’t want to leave their home town. She will live with him. It is
an exciting match that both of them have similar dream of their home. She thanked
the Gods every minute for giving her the man who understood her like no one
could till now. Not ever her parents. Some things are better understood by your
partner, after all.
The wedding dress was still to be
decided but she has begun shopping for her regular clothes for the days after
the wedding. A sari? No. It’s very difficult to walk around in a sari all day.
Okay maybe one or two saris. She doesn’t want to wear denims in the initial
days. She has all her life to wear those. A few salwar kameez. Many, actually. A few sun dress. A few “fun” dresses
too for the nights of togetherness.
I am next in line to be married.
I can feel her emotions reflecting on me. As a pact from childhood, her sister,
she and I had efficiently decided who will be whose Maid of Honor. She was her
sister’s, I will be hers and mine will be her sister. We quite haven’t talked
about if we will follow the pact or let her enjoy the days with her sister. The
last of her before she is a missus to someone. I don’t think I will have any
other choice but to step down because I am always busy with my work 100 miles
away from her. Although a few hours trip, it’s hard to find that time easily. A
June wedding. And then next me.
