Sweet 'n' Sour | ✔

eighteen

18. shaadi mubarak (congrats on the wedding.)

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Over the course of the next few days, things happened so fast that I hardly got to stop and catch the moment. I never thought anything apart from the office could exhaust me to the point I'll fall asleep the moment my body touches the bed. Every function, and ritual, as it was performed with utmost attention and importance, occupied every waking moment of my schedule. I've no idea how Priya is handling all of this. It's been over four days, and I haven't talked to her properly yet. Yesterday, it was our Sangeet and during most of the function, both of us were too occupied with our families and their wild dances to spare even a moment for each other. The news of marriage came as a shock. While I knew we'll be getting married by the end of this month, I was not prepared for it to be the next week immediately. The date of the wedding was set to be on the 25th of December in the morning. I hate day weddings. It was my dream to have a night wedding but one glare from mom and I shut up. Presumably, an auspicious time matters more than my dream wedding.

Currently, I was in my room, trying the outfit I have to wear for Haldi. I finally have a day off for myself. The Haldi is set to be tomorrow evening and the next morning, I'll have to sit on a fucking horse and ride it until the wedding venue. Alright, I know this is all a part of a wedding and blah blah, but can you blame me? Riding a horse was not a part of my plan when I decided to get married. I tried to convince mom to let me drive in the car but she rejected the idea completely, stating it was her dream to see me climb a horse in my wedding outfit.

Excuse me, Mom!? My humiliation is your dream!? Thank you, I finally know I'm not your favorite son. But you didn't have to rub it like that!

I'm not giving up though. I'll try convincing dad. He is a man, he should know how humiliating it is to ride a horse in your Baraat. It all looks fancy and stuff on television, but try being that Dulha who has to sit legs spread on a six feet animal while people dance like maniacs to the sound of loud drums and trumpets around them. Imagine if the horse loses her shit and throws me off? Priya will be a widow before even becoming a wife! No, I can't take the risk. I have to make mom see the big picture. Her dream is not more important than my life.

Once I had tried on the outfit, I turned to the mirror to check if it looks good. It was a yellow kurta with white dhoti pants. The sleeves ended up until the elbow and I was glad Mom kept my preference in mind. I can't do with full sleeves. The kurta had artfully done mirror work all over it and the pants were plain. The outfit fit me perfectly.

I removed it and wore my previous clothes back before folding the outfit neatly to stash it in the cupboard. Plopping down on the bed, I picked up my phone from the nightstand and shot mom a text that the outfit needs no alterations. My fingers automatically gravitated towards the phone book, scrolling through the contacts until it landed on Priya's name. I decided to call her. It's been so long since I heard her voice that's not muffled by screams and music.

"Aditya,"

I smiled. I love how she never says hello or hi, just, Aditya.

"Priya," I mumbled, folding my arm beneath my head as I stared at the ceiling with a smile.

"Kuch kaam tha? (Something important?)" She queried.

"No. I just wanted to hear your voice." I confessed. Imagine, old Aditya saying this. He could never.

Her breath audibly hitched.

"Khana khaya? (Did you have lunch?)" I asked her softly.

"Not yet. You?"

"I just had my lunch. You should eat something." I said, frowning at the unfamiliar buzz of voices coming from the background. "Where are you? In the office?"