Beneath Loves's Veil

10. The Perfect Lehenga

It had been a fortnight since Khalid's departure. While many would be enjoying a lazy Saturday morning, my family and I found ourselves at Opulent Couture, meticulously scrutinizing wedding lehengas.

The festivities were planned for three days: the mehendi function would kickstart the celebration at home, followed by the Nikah ceremony the next day after Asr prayer. On the third day, Khalid would graciously host a waleema dinner for our nearest and dearest at the Hilton Colombo.

Today's agenda revolved around selecting the perfect bridal lehenga for the waleema.

As per tradition, Khalid insisted on covering the expenses, assuring me, through my father the night before to choose without constraints. He was the one to suggested Opulent Couture saying they carried the latest fashion. My mother had been against the idea of Khalid and I communicating before the wedding so I didn't take his number from my brother.

Instead, Khalid had taken to calling my father twice a day to ask my about how I was and if I needed anything. Everytime he called my mother would roll her eyes, my sister's face would light up in delight, and my father, who cherished Khalid like his own son, would answer with a smile.

Opulent Couture was a feast for the eyes. Lehengas in every colour imaginable adorned the racks, each one a masterpiece of intricate embroidery, shimmering stones, or captivating mirror cut work. The array of choices left me feeling utterly overwhelmed. The owner's son, who introduced himself as Zubayr, took charge, directing his salesman to unveil the latest collection of lehengas. Before they could even begin, I mentioned my fondness for maroon lehengas. His smile widened as he assured me of some stunning pieces he had recently acquired.

My sister was practically on the edge of her seat, eager to dive into a sea of lehengas. However, the moment the first one was presented to me, both my mother and I gasped in unison. My sister let out a groan, realizing that I had instantly fallen head over heels for that specific lehenga, signaling an end to any further browsing.

The lehenga was undeniably stunning, with its maroon and beige skirt made of plush velvet. The skirt was adorned with intricate details in dark green, accented by a fusion of green, red, and gold embroidery, along with delicate copper thread work and shimmering stones. Tiny embroidered flowers added a charming touch to the ensemble. The accompanying dupatta, crafted from net material, featured a richly worked border in dark copper, perfectly complementing the maroon base.

My sister insisted on exploring other options before I made up my mind. I agreed, though deep down, I knew my heart was set on this one. As the salesmen unveiled more choices – pastel hues, rich dark tones, ornately decorated pieces, and elegantly minimal designs – my eyes couldn't help but stray back to the maroon lehenga that had captured my heart from the start, even though it had been set aside for the moment.

It seemed that Zubayr had caught on, as he remarked, "Well, the heart knows what it wants, and I think you're drawn to the first dress."

My father intervened at that moment, requesting to see the maroon lehenga again. With a gracious nod, Zubayr unveiled it once more, allowing us to bask in its beauty. To my surprise, it seemed even more exquisite than when I first laid eyes on it. My mother ran her fingers over the fabric, nodding in approval, causing a tiny leap of joy in my heart—I knew her endorsement meant everything.

Turning to Zubayr, my father inquired, "Well, son, how much for the lehenga?"

"Uncle, this particular lehenga is one of the latest arrivals designed by the famous Sabyasachi," Zubayr explained, glancing at the label attached to it. With a confident gaze, he met our eyes and stated, "It costs 820."

My sister burst into laughter. "Don't tease," she chided. "How could a lehenga like this cost 820 rupees?"

Zubayr smiled kindly, assuring her he wasn't joking. "Not 820 rupees, ma'am," he clarified. "820,000 rupees."