A broken boy and a sunshine girl who wants to repair every broken heart
VEDANSH ROY was a sunshine boy but time played it's worst card on him. Born in India, studied from Germany. An incident that changed him. His life took a 360° turn. He committe...
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"Teri shirt da mai toh button soniye Baalon ka tere mai haye clip ho gya"
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After the priest announced me as "Shrushti Vedansh Roy," the weight of those words settled over me like a blanket. I was now his wife, bound to him in every sense. But as I looked around, trying to absorb everything, my eyes landed on my parents. My heart sank.
I saw my mother wiping away tears, her eyes full of a mixture of pride and sadness. But it was when I saw my father that everything inside me crumbled. He was crying, something I had rarely seen. The sight of his tears, the way his shoulders trembled as he tried to hold himself together, shattered me.
Seeing him like that, crying for me, made my heart break in a way I hadn’t expected. I realized that this wasn’t just a happy occasion—it was also a moment of deep loss for my parents, who were letting go of their daughter. The weight of that realization hit me hard, filling my chest with a mix of emotions that were almost too much to bear.
As the priest instructed us to seek blessings from everyone as husband and wife, Vedansh and I stood up together, our hearts heavy with the significance of the moment. We walked towards Dadaji and Dadiji, the senior members of the family who had always been a pillar of wisdom and support.
We bent down and touched their feet, a traditional gesture of respect and reverence. Dadaji and Dadiji offered their blessings with a warm and heartfelt smile, their eyes glistening with emotion. It was a moment of profound respect and connection, and their words of blessing felt like a comforting embrace.
Next, we approached Vedansh’s parents, we followed the same tradition, touching their feet and receiving their blessings. Their emotional response was evident, their eyes wet with tears as they looked at us with a mixture of pride and love. After that we did the same to other relatives from his family.
Finally, we moved to my parents. The sight of them, crying openly, made my heart ache even more. They were trying to mask their sadness with brave smiles, but their tears spoke volumes. My mother clutched my hand tightly, and my father’s eyes were filled with a deep, poignant sorrow.
