500 Words for a Wedding

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.