Not My Little Sister

Chapter 32 - Flames

Vinaya retreated to her bedroom, her mind spinning with the events of the day. Where was that profound happiness she was supposed to feel?

Instead, she was consumed by fear—fear of being married to Nithin, fear of a future she hadn't chosen for herself. The thought that she couldn't be married without her consent offered a sliver of reassurance, but the weight of her parents' expectations loomed heavy on her shoulders. They seemed so eager to be rid of her, oblivious to her thoughts and feelings about this.

Vinaya's mother pleaded with her in the privacy of their home, after everyone else had left. "Vinaya, people are talking," she began, her voice tinged with desperation. "We know Nithin's family, and he can provide for you. You'll have a secure future. You want to be in the US, and you keep complaining about your visa. Nithin is a citizen. You marry him, and you will get a green card."

Vinaya struggled to block out her mother's voice as she listed all the pragmatic reasons why she should marry Nithin, none of them involving love. Her words rang in Vinaya's ears like the annoying buzz of mosquitoes so rampant in her hometown.

"What is the point of even talking to her? It's like talking to a wall. I don't know what I did to deserve such an ungrateful child," her mother's exasperated words cut through Vinaya's defenses.

There was that word again. Ungrateful. Vinaya couldn't deny that she was grateful—for the opportunities life had afforded her, for the roof over her head, for the financial security that shielded her from want. She had never gone hungry, never had to worry about where her next meal would come from.

Yet, despite her gratitude for these material comforts, she couldn't shake the feeling of being misunderstood, like she just didn't fit in. She had always felt like an outsider, a stranger in her own home.

It was only in a foreign land, in the arms of the man they were now forcing her to marry, that she had felt a semblance of peace.

The next day, Vinaya was roused from her sleep by a loud knock on her door. For a moment, she struggled to remember where she was, her surroundings blurred in the haze of drowsiness.

Then her eyes fell on the curtains, behind which she had once hidden for hours as a child while playing hide and seek—a ploy used by her neighborhood friends to exclude her, the lisping girl, the 'retard.'

Shielding her eyes from the sunlight filtering in through the window beyond the curtain, Vinaya braced herself for whatever awaited her on the other side of the door.

"Are you still sleeping?" her mother's voice bellowed through the closed door, forcing Vinaya's sleep to vanish.

Vinaya reluctantly got up and unlocked the door, bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation. "Wear this!" her mother commanded, thrusting a traditional kanjeevaram saree into her hands. With brisk efficiency, her mother proceeded to lay out traditional gold jewelry on her dresser.

"The astrologer will be here soon, and I don't want to hear any objections from you. We have called some relatives, and some are already here, so hurry up," her mother continued, her tone brooking no argument.

Vinaya sighed, rolling her eyes at her mother's unwavering determination to orchestrate her life.

"And wash your face."

Adorned in the resplendent Kanjeevaram silk saree and intricate gold jewelry, Vinaya made her way downstairs. Despite her outward appearance of elegance, she couldn't shake the feeling of suffocation. She longed for the comfort of the life she had made for herself in Houston, counting down the days until her departure.

As she entered the living room, she observed the scene before her—a mat laid out on the floor, the furniture pushed back to make space.

Her relatives occupied the seats, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.