[3] THE UNWANTED WEDDING

98 4 2
                                    

Prity's Narration

It was 9 am in the morning in Delhi, Sacred Heart Cathedral Church. The wedding hall was beautifully decorated with shades of white and other pastel colours. The sunlight came through the glasses of the windows inside the hall and made the red carpet look more vibrant.

The scent of the white Ranunculus, Hydrangeas, Orchids and many other flowers made the atmosphere more enticing and sophisticated. The birds which played outside the church hall were chirping their own sublime jingle.

But in contrast to such a winsome day, the star of the event, the bride herself was downhearted. Her flawless face was inferior to her makeup, her eyes which were beautifully painted with soothing hues of eyeshadow.

The black strokes of her eyeliner were lubricated with tears looking down at the marble floor, her lips which were painted with a rosy red lipstick looked feeble. She wore a white wedding gown while holding a bouquet of white fresh flowers in her little palms.

Maybe some special events in one's life are not always as great as we think. Sometimes they are as undesirable as accidents for them.

Laxmi Mathur, a vivacious and kind-hearted young woman of twenty-seven, radiated warmth and joy wherever she went. As a dedicated school teacher at St. James Girls' H.S. School in Delhi, her infectious laughter and passion for education endeared her to both colleagues and students alike.

Yet, on what should have been the happiest day of her life, Laxmi found herself sitting with her head bowed, a stark contrast to her usual cheerful demeanour. Instead of the customary glow of happiness adorning her face, it was overshadowed by furrowed brows and glistening tears.

Laxmi

As tears cascaded down my cheeks, I hastily wiped them away, fearing the judgement of those around me. The weight of unhappiness bore down on me, threatening to suffocate the joy that should accompany my wedding day.

"Why am I crying? No, I shouldn't. What if anyone comes?" I whispered to myself, my voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of my emotions.

I couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing the cracks in my facade, the cracks that revealed the deep-seated unease I harboured about this union.

Despite my best efforts to bury them, memories of a past love invaded my thoughts, their presence an unwelcome reminder of what could have been.

"Why does it feel like this? It's my wedding today, and I agreed to this marriage. Then why do her thoughts continue to torment me?" I mused, the ache in my heart threatening to overwhelm me.

With a heavy sigh, I chastised myself for indulging in such thoughts on what should be a day of celebration.

"No, no... I should stop all these," I admonished myself, though the words felt hollow against the backdrop of my inner turmoil.

As the minutes ticked by, each second a painful reminder of the impending change awaiting me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension. In just 10 minutes, my life would be forever altered, and I stood on the precipice of a future fraught with uncertainty.

'Laxmi, I won't force you to do anything. For me, love is scarification. Having you in my life, loving you was the best thing I ever had in my life and I would die for this,' a cruel tear made its way from my eyes out over my cheeks.

'I didn't love you to get you. I love you without any reason as love doesn't need one or has either. I want you to be happy and healthy, I want to take care of you forever, nothing more. And yes, I love you Laxmi Mathur. I love you!', her words were running across my mind.

It's Called PRIDE!Where stories live. Discover now