"Two hearts, one promise"
Siya Agarwal, a 21-year-old with a carefree spirit and a heart full of kindness, isn't always the best at showing love, but she knows how to comfort those who are hurting. Aarav Solanki, a 25-year-old businessman, is seriou...
I woke up a little late to a loud banging on my door, which was obviously Lakshya's doing. This boy would literally get a beating from me if he didn't stop irritating me.
"What happened?" I shouted as I got out of bed and walked toward the door. As soon as I opened it, he made a camera sign with his hands and said, "Aap humari movie ki chudail banne ke liye bilkul perfect ho, bas zara chillakar dikha dijiye," then burst out laughing.
"Not funny at all," I said, crossing my arms as he continued laughing like an idiot.
"'Not funny,'" he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Mumma's calling you for breakfast, and she said we have to go shopping, so get ready fast."
He spoke so quickly that it was hard to understand at first, or maybe it was because I had just woken up. "Hmm, okay, now get lost." I slammed the door behind him, knowing full well I'd get scolded later for this 'kind' gesture toward my brother.
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After getting ready, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the strap of my small brown handbag. I had chosen a casual yet chic outfit for the day—a white short-sleeved blouse with thin black stripes, its collar adding a subtle touch of elegance. The blouse was neatly tucked into high-waisted black trousers that flowed effortlessly to the floor. As I ran my fingers through my straight hair, I couldn't help but smile at my reflection, feeling confident and ready for whatever the day had in store.
I headed downstairs and went straight to the breakfast table, greeting everyone with a good morning and receiving the same in return.
"Good morning, Bhai," I said to my eldest brother, who was busy drinking his juice and reading something on his phone.
"Good morning, pihu" he replied without looking up.
"Hurry up and eat. We have to go shopping, and we need to leave for Udaipur today, so no dawdling," Mumma said hurriedly, tying her hair into a ponytail. She was wearing a sea-green saree and looked beautiful as always.
I finished my breakfast and went to the parking lot with my brothers and Mumma."Look, don't waste much time buying clothes. We need to be back as soon as possible," Mumma warned, sounding like she was in full-on mission mode, going to fight a warm instead of shopping.
"Don't worry about us, we'll buy clothes in time. Just make sure you keep an eye on your daughter," Lakshay quipped, earning a glare from me.
"Shut up, fossil fool," I shot back, sticking my tongue out at him.
We reached the shopping center after an hour, and that hour was painful because I had to listen to Lakshay's constant chattering the entire time.
Once inside the women's clothing store, Mumma started selecting clothes for herself. She settled on a dark red lehenga with green and orange hues, a periwinkle saree, a blue saree, and a few other outfits. After finishing her shopping, she turned her attention to mine. Obviously, I wasn't going to be allowed to wear clothes of my choice because, according to everyone, my dressing sense is terrible.
She began instructing the staff, "Bring something in dark shades, maybe red or blue."
"I don't like dark shades; I would only wear pastel shades," I interjected, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.
"Beta, dark shades suit you. Just listen to me this time, and besides, we don't have the luxury of indulging your nakhre,(tantrums)" Mumma replied casually, clearly tired of my usual drama.
"My tantrums, seriously I just want aesthetic clothes what are tantrums in that exactly?" I muttered under my breath. Mumma glanced at me briefly but went back to selecting the dresses.
She picked out two dresses for the main functions, and I was allowed to choose my own outfits for the haldi and mehendi ceremonies. The first dress she chose was an elegant sage green lehenga adorned with intricate silver and gold embroidery. The second was a stunning dusty rose pink lehenga with gold embroidery. The lehenga had a deep V-neck blouse, richly embroidered, giving it a luxurious and festive look.
We were done after buying all the jewelry—actually, after she bought it. We finally headed home, exhausted but satisfied with our shopping haul.
After a short break, we were back in the car, on our way to Udaipur. I love going there, but I dread the comments people make about me. Still, I resolved to push those thoughts aside and focus on being the mature girl I was expected to be.
"Bhai, you're getting married next to next week. It's going to be fun," Lakshay said excitedly.
"Shaadi inki hai to kya hua we have got to do all the fun." He replied making a yo yo sign with his hands.
I stared out of the window, lost in view but could clearly understand what they were talking about.
"Isn't it wrong that the girl he's getting married to isn't even his choice? Just because she was chosen by Dadaji doesn't mean he has to marry her, right? He can deny this marriage if he isn't interested in her," I said, looking at my brother, who was silently driving the car without dropping any comments on the conversation. I know he isn't fully on board with the idea of getting married , but he wouldn't say anything about it now and not even later.
"Hum apne bacho ke baare mein humesha acha hi sochte h beta. Or phir agar baath jeevan sathi chunne ki ho to hume iska jyada pata hai ki kon insan kiske liye sahi hai." Mumma said, trying to make me understand this shitty domination of family over their children.
No matter what she says, I don't agree with her. It's not right that we don't even get the choice in who we marry. That's just wrong.
"What about Dev Bhai? Did he agree to get married just like that?" I asked Mumma, to which she just nodded.
"Am I the only normal and mindful person in this house?" I said irritated.
"Yes,maybe, because you don't belong to this family. Mumma and papa brought you from the road." Lakshya said turning my statement into a joke.
"Oh,shut up. Beggars don't get a say in family matters." I said crossing my hands on my chest. Meanwhile mumma was looking at both of us as if we were ghost.
After some bickering, we both quietened down,tired by the day's event.
What if they don't like each other after the marriage? What if they're just marrying each other for the sake of family? It wouldn't be a marriage; it would be a prison. Screw traditions.
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