Rebellious Spouse

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Amirah
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The most anticipated celebration of my life had finally arrived after what felt like centuries.

Although, I was aware, my in-laws were extremely conservative to support my dream of becoming a journalist. But I had genuine expectations from my husband that he would convince his family to allow me to make a name for myself.

I was aware of the danger my dream carried along with itself, because I didn't just want to be a puppet of high influenced personalities, rather, I aim for uncovering all the corruption that act as an agency of sufferings of the general population.

It was, no doubt, a high risk, but I was determined, regardless. Ever since I understood the meaning of the word corruption, and witnessed how injustice had been made an common act, my only motive was to bring a difference in the country.

I had shared my motive with my family, they were skeptical, terrified even, for my safety but my dedication convinced them. Not like they had any choice other than giving in, anyway.

But it wasn't really a problem because my family itself was high  influential and my father could even destroy powerful politicians with just a snap of his finger hence, I was protected.

It might sound like nepotism, nonetheless, my last name was enough for me to accomplish my dream of achiving what I was aiming for. None of the companies had the audacity to reject me or put me through the unreasonable training just to give me a irrelevant post. In simple words, I wouldn't need to endure unnecessary stuff being a fresher.

The real challenge was whether Faizan's parents would agree and that was yet to be seen. But one thing was certain, I was Amirah Ali, the most stubborn woman alive. When I set my mind on something, I wouldn't back down, no matter the odds. Their approval might not come easily, but if anyone could convince them, it was me and Faizan.

As I sat in front of the vanity, wearing a silk robe, lost in the flurry of thoughts, the stylists were busy doing their job of enhancing my beauty with their talent. Needless to say, the particular stylist was sent by my in-laws and when I tried to comment on my look, just to be politely informed that they were already instructed regarding everything.

The wedding attire and jewelry had already arrived which was delivered by Faizan's brother-in-law. But I didn't make any effort to even peak at it, I was still bitter that I didn't have any opinion on it.

A soft knock on the door pulled me back from the reverie as I watch my mother and sister-in-law walking inside, ready in their own attire. Mom looked gorgeous in her ivory kanchipuram saree where as Bhabi was wearing a designer lehanga, in the color of the sky, emblished with matching embroidery.

They offered a smile which I couldn't reciprocate for obvious reasons. I wasn't forced or anything rather the opposite, it was just the fear of unknown future was terrifying and all these nerverecking rules were making me furious.

Never in my life I was told to do anything, it was always my own choice. But here was I, accepting every demand thrown at me by the in-laws and I suppressed my ego just for the sake of my husband.

For, he was worth it. They said, opposite attract ain't for nothing.

Both of them proceeded to take the dress and jewelry out of their fancy transparent gift boxes. Show off.

"It's pretty, Amirah", Mom's enthusiastic voice grabbed my attention. I turned my gaze at the outfit just to scrunch up my nose with a roll of my eyes.

"It's done.. Do you like it?", the stylist asked smiling professionally, while admiring my face through the mirror.
"Lets do the drapping then we will move on with the head scarf and jewelry", she suggested, a soft smile adoring her face.