Naina looked absolutely stunning in her traditional Maharashtrian attire. She wore a beautiful magenta saree that was adorned with a soft lime green color, creating a subtle yet striking contrast. Her makeup was simple yet elegant, with a touch of luscious lotus pink lipstick accentuating her plump lips and a sleek layer of Kohl enhancing the natural beauty of her mesmeric eyes. A small diamond nose ring added a touch of sparkle to her face, making her look radiant.
To complete her look, Naina wore a heavy gold neckpiece that was gifted by her husband during the previous year's Diwali celebrations. The neckpiece shimmered as it caught the light, adding a touch of glamour to her attire. Delicate glass green bangles adorned her wrists, creating a soft melody with their gentle clinking. Her palms were adorned with intricate henna designs, and her tender feet were decorated with pristine jingling anklets. Even her small toes were painted with a lovely blossom red color, adding a touch of elegance to her overall look.
She looked ethereal.
With that beguiling smile crowning her round gleaming face.
And Sameer was rendered speechless by his wife's peerless elegance, pure grace carrying her persona wherever she was going, and her amber eyes scintillating under the aligned white and golden lights.
She stood exquisitely outside the embellished door of their new home, waiting for the priest to guide her further as she was clueless about the rituals and pooja's.
"Garmi lag rahi hai?" Watching her blowing constant air on her sweltering body through her mouth. Sameer asked her meekly, gently rolling the brand-new gold bracelet on his right wrist -- his wife gifted him this birthday and politely requested him to wear it on their big day.
"Bahut, bilkul comfortable nahi lagta saree me itne logo ke saamne," Naina's face fell as she confessed, knowing all too well the innumerable complications that come with wearing an Indian saree. The intricacies of draping the six-yard wonder were not lost on her, and with a swarm of Desi aunties buzzing around her, she felt like she was walking on eggshells. Their never-ending critique was a constant reminder of the unattainable standards set for her as a woman. From not holding her pallu correctly to wearing a low-waist saree, every little detail was scrutinized, and she felt like she could never get it right. The pressure to carry the pallu overhead and present herself as a Sanskari, Subservient, Religious, and Ethnic girl was too much to bear, and even the slightest mistake was enough to draw their ire.
"Thodi der ruk jao, andar airconditioner chalu kar dege," Sameer said in a low voice, feeling bad for his delicate wife who didn't seem happy.
"Hmm, only if they allow us to do." She mentioned, shaking her head while staring at the bald priest performing a Pooja and chanting mantras.
"Matlab?" He asked curiously.
"Naye ghar ki Puja haina, toh kya pata airconditioner allowed hai ya nahi," Naina said with a clueless expression while repeatedly blinking her eyes at the front door.
"Waise saree me bahut hot lag rahi ho." Sameer tilted down his head to compliment his wife in a gruff voice, though standing an inch away from her.
She widened her eyes out of terror, instantly slapping his left wrist for passing such a naughty comment at her in the presence of fifty people. He giggled without any care, saying with a dramatic smile while playing with his fleecy raven black gelled hair - "Jo hai wahi keh raha hoon, woh kya haina madam humein jhoot bolna nahi aata hai."
"Haa toh sach bhi mat bolo itna sabke samne." Naina feebly chided her mischievous husband, twisting the fabric of her saree, and controlling her blooming pink smile.
