Nandini
Pacing back and forth in my new room, where my mother-in-law brought me a few minutes back, I think about this new relationship I have gotten into.
I got married to Vikrant Sisodiya today, and I don't know how to feel about it.
Holding the edge of my lehenga's shawl in my hand, I twirl it around my finger, untwirling it and twirling it again, feeling anxious about facing my husband, whom I neither met nor had even one conversation with before getting married.
As I catch my reflection in the mirror right in front of me, I feel a wave of pain pass through me. Wedding day is supposed to be one of the happiest days in any girl's life, but here I am, anything but happy. My makeup has perfectly covered the dullness of my face. The kohl in my eyes has hidden my puffy eyelids. And the fake smile I had plastered on my face during the wedding proceeding gave false assurance to everyone that I was happy with this marriage.
But I'm not happy. Not at all.
The abrupt way my parents got me married has left me baffled and nervous. That, too, just a few weeks after my brother's death, who I'm still mourning for.
My elder brother, Vivek Iyer, died about a month back.
Not died. He was—
I stop thinking about it, not wanting to plunge myself into the depths of anguish I feel whenever I dwell on how he had died.
My parents were devastated by their only son's death. I tried to console them and support them, but they shunned me from doing so.
After all, I'm a daughter they never wanted.
A clench in my heart follows that painful thought. It's been almost eleven years since I found out this bitter truth. Yet, it still holds the power to hurt me.
I was ten when I eavesdropped on my mother talking with her friend and understood why she and Papa never loved me like they loved Vivek.
"Subhash and I never wanted a daughter. We were happy with Vivek and would have been overjoyed if another child had also been a son. We were disappointed after knowing it was a daughter," she had said to her friend.
Her words had slashed my heart. The anguish from them made jolts of pain pass through my entire being. And if that wasn't enough, she had added, "We wanted to go for the abortion immediately, but my doctor said that due to some medical complications, it wasn't possible. That's why I had to give birth to Nandini, even though I didn't want to."
I was devastated hearing that. The pain I felt after knowing that my mother never wanted to bring me to this world was something I can't describe even now. To this day, I shudder when I hear her bitter words ringing in my ears.
That was the day I finally found out why my parents had been behaving indifferently with me ever since I could remember.
I became Iyer by birth in that family and by my name, but I could never be a part of the family. My parents never accepted me and never loved me as their child.
It isn't that they tortured me. They took care of my basic needs. They sheltered me in their home, gave me food and clothes, and provided me with education.
They never misbehaved with me, shouted at me, or talked rudely with me.
But they never cared for me, too. They never showed me love and affection. They never got concerned for me.
They behaved with me as if I was non-existent to them.
And I, too, meekly accepted my position. I was grateful that although they didn't accept me, they didn't abandon me too.
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Unwanted [COMPLETED]
Romans"I have married you, but I'll never accept you as my wife." He glares at her for a few seconds before walking away. "Unwanted forever," she whispers, closing her eyes to let the tears fall. ***** Bound to the man who made her his wife only to take r...