The vivid reds in wedding symbols of celebration , Happiness and Joy . But what will happen if the same red colour change into the colour of blood betrayal and the symphony of despair.
Meera sweet little innocent girl end up being the pawn in the d...
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The mirror reflected a stranger. The girl staring back at me was draped in an elaborate red lehenga, her eyes lined with kohl, lips painted a deep crimson. A bride. But not a happy one.
I tried to steady my trembling hands, taking deep breaths to calm the storm inside me. Today was my wedding day, a day that should have been filled with joy and anticipation. Instead, it felt like a funeral, burying all my hopes and dreams under layers of silk and gold embroidery.
"Meera, why are you sitting like a statue? Hurry up! Everyone is waiting," my step mother's voice cut through my thoughts. She bustled into the room, her face set in a permanent scowl. "You should be grateful that someone agreed to marry you. Do you know how many proposals we had to go through before Raghav agreed? You're lucky. Sasural mein jake sabki baat suniyo. Pati jo bole use maan liyo. Humari naak mat katvaiyo."
(Listen to your in-laws. Accept whatever your husband says. Don't bring disgrace upon us.)
Lucky. The word tasted bitter in my mouth. Raghav had come to see me only once. He'd barely looked at me, his eyes more interested in the dowry my parents promised than in the girl he was about to marry. But in our society, what did that matter? I was a burden to be passed from my parents to my husband.
"Yes, Ma," I murmured, looking down to avoid her piercing gaze.
"Mujhe ma mat bulaiyo tumhare muh se ma sun kar mujhe ghin aati hai. Kahi apni ma ki tarah mujhe bhi maar dalogi"
(Don't call me Maa , I hate hearing Maa from your mouth. who knows you might kill me like your mother)
Words hurt but the words me killing my mumma pierces thousand needles in my heart. The pain lasting till eternity . I missed her so much. She was my rock, my guiding light in the darkest times. After I was born, she was diagnosed with cancer, and the guilt of being blamed for her illness weighed heavily on my heart. My family said it was my birth that brought her sickness, and their words cut deep. I remember how she used to hold me close, whispering that I was her greatest joy, even as she battled the disease. She taught me how to read, how to dream, and how to find strength in the face of adversity. Her death left a void that nothing could fill. The day she passed away, a part of me died too. I still hear her voice in my dreams, comforting me, telling me to be brave. But now, with everyone turning against me, the pain of losing her feels sharper than ever. I long for her embrace, her soothing words, and the unconditional love she always gave me.
"Don't slouch, Meera. And stop looking so glum. No one wants a sulky bride," my bua, my father's sister, chimed in, her voice dripping with disdain. She was the one who had arranged the match, boasting about her connections and how she had found such a 'suitable' groom for me.
I straightened my back, my spine rigid with the weight of their expectations. I was a brilliant student, top of my class, with dreams of studying further. But those dreams were crushed by my parents and the society and coming from a small town of Rajastan we are taught since birth to not dream but see silly me did it only for them to be crushed. Girls just a burden to be passed so my parents decided it was time for me to marry. 'Ladki 14 ki hojajye toh uski padai band kardo aur 18 ki hojaye toh haath pele kardo . Ek bar umar nikal gayi toh koi shadhi nahi karenga' What use were dreams for a girl like me, they said. My place was in the kitchen, in the home, by my husband's side.
(When a girl turns 14, stop her studies and when she turns 18, she get her married. Once she crosses this age, no one will marry her.)
My foot, but I don't have any other option then to follow. Afterall they are my family even though they don't love me I do.
"Meera, are you even listening?" my bua snapped. "Remember, no girl from our family has ever brought shame. You will do as you're told."
I nodded silently, my heart heavy with resignation. There was no point in arguing. I was just a girl, after all, a puppet on strings pulled by my family's whims.
As the time drew near, the cacophony of wedding preparations grew louder. Relatives and neighbors gathered in the courtyard, their voices merging into a chaotic symphony. I could hear the distant beats of the dhol, the celebratory music that seemed to mock my despair.
A knock on the door signaled it was time. My step mother adjusted my dupatta one last time, her eyes being peculiar for a brief moment. "Remember, Meera, a good wife keeps her family together. Make us proud."
I wanted to scream, to tell her I didn't want this life, but I swallowed my words and followed her out of the room. The house was a blur of colors and faces, all merging into a sea of expectations. My feet felt heavy, each step towards the mandap a step away from the life I wanted.
The mandap was adorned with marigolds and lights, a stark contrast to the dread gnawing at my insides. I saw Raghav standing there, resplendent in his sherwani, surrounded by his family. He looked like a prince, but to me, he was a stranger.
As I walked down the aisle, the reality of my situation hit me with full force. This was it. There was no turning back. I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter, my future uncertain and terrifying.
Suddenly, a loud bang shattered the air, freezing everyone in place. It took a moment for my brain to register what had happened. There was a gunshot, and then there was blood. So much blood.
Panic erupted around me as screams filled the air. I stood rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on Raghav. He was lying on the stage, his sherwani soaked in crimson. His eyes were wide open, staring lifelessly at the sky.
My mind went blank. All I could see was the blood, pooling around him, soaking into the flowers and decorations. The world around me seemed to spin out of control, the chaos and noise blurring into an indistinguishable roar.
And then, darkness closed in, swallowing me whole.
