Arranged Love

27. Two Bodies, One Soul

Disclaimer: All the characters written below are imaginary and a work of pure fiction. There is no resemblance to any incident or situation and is written as a work of fiction.

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Please do vote & comment your honest views on this chapter. It would motivate me a lot! <3

A/n: I have attempted to capture the essence of North Indian weddings to the best of my abilities. However, please note that this is my first time in describing such cultural events, and I am not a professional in this field. Unintentional mistakes might have occurred, and if any offense has been caused, it is sincerely unintended. Also would love to hear insights about marriage traditions from your own culture. 😊

Vivek's POV -

As I stepped into the Mandap, I was taken by surprise when my little sister Amrita suddenly bent down to touch my feet. Perplexed, I asked, "What are you doing, Amrita?"

In hushed whispers, she replied, "I don't want the bride's team to steal your shoes, bhai. I'm keeping them safe with me."

Smirking, I teased, "Ah, so the day has arrived when you acknowledge my importance in your life, little sister. Touching my feet, are we?"

Amrita, clearly irritated, retorted, "Don't flatter yourself unnecessarily, bhai. I'm doing this so we don't lose to our so-called enemies, the bride's side." She snorted, clearly unimpressed.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter at her candidness, watching her run away with my shoes, ensuring they stayed out of mischief. Settling into the Mandap for the upcoming rituals, I couldn't help but wonder what next is in store for me.

The priest continued chanting verses, setting a sacred ambiance in the air, as we waited for Smriti's arrival. In those moments of anticipation, my mischievous cousins couldn't resist teasing me.

My cousin, Adarsh, with a sly grin, nudged me, whispering, "Vivek, your bride must be stealing a moment to make sure she's not marrying a total goofball like you, you know."

His comment earned him a playful punch from my another cousin, Shivali, who chimed in, "Oh, please, Rohit! I think she's probably nervous, wondering if she can handle all this handsomeness!"

Before I could retort, Panditji spoke, "Kanya ko mandap mein bulaya jaye." 

The room fell silent, and there she was — Smriti, escorted by her sisters. Dressed in a breathtaking yellow and red saree, adorned with intricate gold jewelry, she looked ethereal. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness, making her even more enchanting.

As she was seated beside me, her parents, came forward to perform the sacred ritual of Kanyadaan. The priest's voice resonated with solemnity as he spoke the traditional words.

"Kanyadaan is not merely the giving away of a daughter," he intoned, "but a sacred trust, a commitment that you, Vivek, will hold her heart, honor her dreams, and cherish her being. It signifies the eternal bond between two families, a promise of love and support. The bride is considered to be a form of the Goddess Lakshmi, while the groom is a form of Lord Vishnu. The parents of the bride shall now initiate the union of two Gods through this ceremony."

In the soft glow of the sacred fire, the Kanyadaan ceremony commenced with a ritual washing of our feet. Smriti's parents, their eyes surprisingly shimmering with emotions, carefully cleansed our feet. The water caressed our skin, carrying the weight of traditions and the promise of a new beginning.