I am his Bride... { an Indian BL saga }

Marriage (Part 1)

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Well, the rituals for boys and girls are same till the afternoon, so I'm gonna do a time skip to the afternoon on Divyansh's side. Well, another important information is that I will be uploading for Christmas as I am going on a short break.

DIVYANSH:

The day passed almost peacefully till the afternoon. I was resting on my bed as hunger was taking its troll me. Seriously? Who the fuck made the rules that the dulha-dulhan (groom and bride) cannot have a morsel of food the whole day? I was ready to go to the past and kill that fucking person when my mother came and dragged me downstairs for the bangle wearing ceremony.

Now let me explain the bangle ceremony while it's still going on. The married women in our culture have to wear a pair of sankha, a pair of pola and a loha as it is a mark of their suhag (a sign that their husbands are alive to boss them around). Well, after a lot of hassle, they made me wear those. Shit, I feel so fucking uncomfortable and it is a must to wear these bangles till the day my husband is alive.

As soon as the weird ceremony was over, I was dragged to my room again and a gorgeous pink banarasi saree was draped on me. Well, the saree complemented my feminine built very gracefully. Then, it was the turn of the jewelry. The cousins I never knew I had, came up with boxes of golden jewelry of antique designs and the best quality.

The anklets were the final touch. After wearing all these stuff, I guessed I must weigh at least 10 kilograms heavier than before. The hairstylist entered the room shortly after. She was a young and petite girl and styled my black hair into a gorgeous gun and secured it with a lot of clips. Well, I know how to make a simple bun but this one was more complex than integration equations. She informed that it was called a juda.

The makeup artist had already arrived with two of her assistants when the hairstylist was midway through her work. So she spent the time giving the ladies in the household, makeovers of their choices.

Finally when the hairstylist finished her task, she asked me, "Behenji, dekh lijiye. Aap comfy to hai na? Kya juda jyada loose hai? Agar hai toh main kuch clips aur laga dungi." (Sister, check it out. Are you comfy? Is the bun too loose? If it is, I will secure it with some more clips.) Seeing her anxiety to make the bun perfect, I smiled and said, "It's perfect. Thanks a lot." She nodded, "Thik hai behenji, toh ab main chalti hun." (Ok, sister. Then I will take my leave now.)

The makeup artist introduced herself first. "Hi, I am Malvika. Ok, I will be giving you the makeover now but before that let me ask you. Did you use any beauty or skincare product today or do you have any product that you use?" I replied, "No, today I just washed my face using the Clean & Clear Foaming Face Wash before starting to get ready. Normally I use the Nivea Soft Light Moisturiser when my skin feels dry and apply Boroline Ultra Smooth on my lips before going to bed every night." "Ok that's perfect. You can continue using them as you do and as I can see, you have perfect skin. Well, let's start with the makeover."

After the makeup was over, I was just awestruck. She had complemented my natural look and not changed my face to some perfect one. Anyone could recognize me but still be amazed as this makeover made me a better version of myself. Finally my mother led me to the place that was set up for the bride to sit till the groom arrived and the marriage ceremony was started. Time passed swiftly and the guests started coming. The marriage was a lavish one. The decoration of the Hall was in the Mughal style. Most of he guests gave me their presents and wished me a happy married life. I couldn't help but wonder if my future husband would like me. Well, who am I to question? He will surely hate me after I reveal that I am boy. This guilt is eating me up. I just can't believe I am fooling so many people just for the sake of my father's company. I can't really bear this guilt. It's too much and it's growing every second as people are commenting about how lucky my husband is to get me for his wife.