Could Love Find Its Way Through a Scripted Story?
Jaanvi was willing to find out.
Jaanvi Arora was a hopeless romantic born in an elite class indian family.
She was soon to be married to the son of multi-billionare, whom she has never met.
That's t...
"How about this one?" Bina was asking, as she waltzed out of the changing room in our private suite.
"Nah, that makes you look fat" Priya drawled from the opposite corner of the suite, browsing through another collection of ball gowns.
Bina gasped, turning to look at herself in the mirror and grimaced "oh my god! I do look fat!!" She squeaked before rushing back into the changing room again.....to try another new outfit.
Priya and Bina are currently bridesmaid shopping while me and mom lounged in our suite, waiting for them to finish. Aasha ma was also supposed to join us today but she had caught a throat infection at the last minute and had to bail out. So mom had helped select my bridal saree and other nuptial wears and we had finished my shopping around midday while Priya and Bina had rummaged through the entire store and still whined about not finding the perfect dress.
So 10 stores, 32 floors and a whole midday afternoon later, here we were, currently in our 11th store while Priya and Bina were trying out their dresses.
Priya was heaping piles and piles of gowns into her arms and dumped them onto the hands of the shop attendent who followed her around like a puppy, too happy to indulge her in any way possible. Bina strutted out of the room in another new gown, trying out outfit number 55? 58? By this time, I had already lost count. I fear these both are going to raid the entire store.
Another shop attendent entered the room with a collection of new dresses hanging across her arms. Priya and Bina gasped when their eyes fell on the new arrivals and they both dived at poor lady who was clutching the dressess in her hands. Bina was about to reach for a beautiful looking red gown when Priya snatched it in her first and darted into the ensuite closet before she could catch her. Bina pouted and sighed in defeat before moving on to other outfits. Mom, who was seated beside me, witnessing all the hoopla sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose
"I swear, these girls are children trapped inside a grown woman's body" she muttered, leaning back on the couch and crossing her arms. I just lifted my shoulder in a shrug. What can I say? She's got a point.
I was starting out of the window of our two story high private suite. The window offered a beautiful view. The afternoon sky was a warm shade of morning blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds that drifted lazily in the gentle breeze. Tall skyscrapers pierced through the explosion of clouds, as the midday sun bathed the buildings in it's blazing light. The sophisticated urban streets were flanked by elegant retro homes and storefronts that reflected the afternoon light like the charming dollhouses in a display case.
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(The view)
But in my mind, I was taken back in time where I had stood clutching a book to my chest, staring out of a different window, a different view, a different world. Now it all feels like a dream now, memories of my childhood home slowly dissolves into the air like smoke while I sat there, tarrying in the luxurious store.
