Set against the backdrop of the 1990s, this story unfolds a unique and unconventional tale.
"I see her every day in school, and now I don't look at her the way a teacher should look at his student. The young woman who sits on the fourth bench of the...
"Now both will untie the thread. Bride can use both hands but groom will use single hand"
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I quickly untied that thread from his wrist, followed by him doing same. Then mumma passed a plate of Kansar to me. We are told to feed each other 5 spoonful of it.
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I hate sweets.
Thank God he fed me very little.
We stood and took the blessings from the priest, followed by our parents and relatives.
"Now it's already 12:30 PM, let's go home" his dadi said.
"Ji ma" (yes mother)
"Dharini dear, it's time of vidaai" ma said to me.
Don't cry Dharini
Don't cry Dharini
Don't cry...
Mumma hugged me, followed by my grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins, Drishu...but I didn't cry.
He patiently stood beside me when I hugged everyone and they took their time.
Mishra sir hanged his dupatta on my shoulder because it is knotted with mine.
"Let's go Bhabhi" Vishakha didi said
I nodded but stopped midway...
Papa
I didn't hugged papa
Where is he? I frantically started searching for him until my eyes land on him, who is standing beside horse carriage.
As if he felt eyes on him, he turned to look at me and I realized everything changed today. I'm not his little girl anymore.
I took quick steps towards him and hugged him and there my resolve broke.
I don't know how long I cried hugging him till I heard Mishra Sir's voice behind me.
"Don't be sad papa, I promise I'll keep her happy and Dharini, please don't cry, whenever you want, you can meet your parents"
