Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
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– October 2019 –
"There we are," said Neeti, one of the most highly sought out make-up artists in Delhi.
It was a chilly October morning in the capitol, and she had just finished getting the bride, the daughter of a very affluent business tycoon, ready for what was being called wedding of the decade.
To Khushi, however, it felt more like a funeral than a wedding. Dressed in luxurious silks and adorning the Gupta family's finest jewels, she couldn't help but feel like a lamb being fed before a sacrifice. Life as she knew it was coming to an end.
"What's wrong?" Neeti asked. The make-up artist had been watching her closely that entire morning, too closely in fact.
Khushi shook her head, her eyes not budging from her mehendi clad hands. It had turned a deep maroon shade, something all her relatives were quick to deem as a very good omen. Not that she believed it of course.
Khushi was a woman of science, not superstition.
"Do you not like the look?" Neeti pressed. "I can still change things if you don't, we have time."
"No, it's good."
"But you didn't even look."
"I trust you Neeti."
Neeti was not convinced. Grabbing an enormous handheld mirror, the makeup artist walked around and gently slipped it in Khushi's hands. "Tell me seriously... I want you to be happy today."
Happiness was no longer an option. Khushi was being tied down a man she didn't know and a family that wasn't hers. So, what did it matter if she looked "good" or "happy" during it. Either way, it would be her loss to bear. Hers and only hers.
Neeti waited patiently for a few minutes before lowering her voice and asking, "Do you not like the guy?"
Khushi blinked, refusing to acknowledge the truth.
"I can help you run," Neeti continued in earnest.
Khushi smiled without humor. "Don't let my father catch you saying that; he will end your career."
Neeti understood the message loud and clear. Giving Khushi's hand a reassuring squeeze, she stood up and began packing up her things.
"I think you are worrying unnecessarily," she said light-heartedly. "Who wouldn't fall in love with you?You're beautiful, smart, wealthy..."
Khushi knew Neeti was trying to be sweet, but she really was in no mood to appreciate the gesture. The minutes to her cremation were literally in the single digits now.
"... besides, God has a way with these things you know, I'm sure–"
"I'm sure He left a long time ago," Khushi finished without emotion. "He definitely has better things to do than deal with our petty problems."
