Tides of Distant Shores

४ || The Inanimate Bride

The waves crashed into the shore in a vicious cycle of longing and retreat. The foot of the rock was flush with seawater every other moment, drowning his feet and drenching the hem of his dhoti but Mohan couldn't care less. After the tumultuous day he had, the sounds of the roaring sea calmed his nerves and soothed his soul. Sitting at the edge of a gigantic boulder facing the vast Arabian Sea, it was easy to pretend that he was the arbitrar of his own destiny.

Gopalrao's words weighed down on his conscience since morning. His initial reaction was one of shock and denial – he couldn't contemplate the idea of marriage even his wildest dreams, but he also knew that Gopalrao's words were final. He was the arbitrar of Mohan's destiny, and his words were law.

The cool breeze swept his neck, causing the hair to stand. He couldn't get past the idea that in a few days, he would steal a young woman's save haven – snatch her away from the comfort and love of the only family she had ever known and thrust her in a household of strangers. He – who would be expected to share her bed – would be a stranger too. She would lose the love of her parents and siblings, and also the little corners of her world that she would've had guarded zealously for the better part of her life. In a marriage, a man loses his bachelor status, but a woman loses everything, including her name. And as an ardent sympathizer of women, Mohan couldn't bring himself to do it. Marriage was a just a societal tradition that threw a bunch of strangers together, which had the potential to create havoc of epic proportions. And he was being coerced to conform to it. Helplessness swept through his veins, causing a deep hatred to brew inside him – Gopalrao Holkar was a monster and a brutal murderer of dreams.

Only this morning, Shambhurao had said that marriage wasn't as bad as he took it to be. Was his sister happy with him? He certainly thought so. Though he detested the idea of his sister being intimate with a man – nonetheless her husband – he couldn't shake off the look of pure joy when Shambhurao had declared their upcoming parenthood. If he married the woman his father has chosen, would he be as happy as his sister and brother – in – law? Could that happiness ever replace the pain he had to cause his young wife? Was marriage really worth it?

Mohan shook his head – he wouldn't waste the serendipity of the atmosphere on fruitless thoughts. Instead, he extracted a worn out copy of Lord Byron's works from his battered sack of books and turned the pages aimlessly. He always enjoyed the musings of this slightly eccentric poet, and the serene ambience of the sea projected a perfect setting for perusing some his brilliant works.

His eyes caught an illustration – he had doodled it himself during his leisure. It featured a young woman, a pretty lady in Victorian attire, walking through the page while shielding her head with a delicate umbrella. Above the art was the famous poem – She Walks in Beauty.

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

An ode to the beauty of his beloved! A whirlwind of emotions almost chocked his mind as he swept his eyes over the beautiful verse. Oh, how ardent a lover one had to be to compose this! Here he was, a fervent admirer of Byron, swooning over the extraordinary romance of the poem, yet unable to reconcile himself to the idea of marriage. On hindsight, he regretted reading the poem altogether. Marriage doesn't guarantee love – he knew enough couples to know that, but hope was always audacious. In his heart, which had been so stubborn just minutes ago, an inkling of hope crept in....what if......