Threads of Tradition: Tales Of Indian Arranged Marriages

2.

The golden hues of the desert sun washed over our haveli, turning the sandstone walls into a vibrant display of warm tones. Today was my wedding day, and the air was filled with a blend of excitement and nostalgia. Family members bustled about, decorating the courtyards with marigold garlands and twinkling fairy lights. The rhythmic beats of traditional Rajasthani dhols reverberated through the streets, and the scent of jasmine and incense hung in the air.

I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, dressed in a deep red lehenga with intricate gold zari work. The heavy bridal dupatta draped elegantly over my head, and the family heirloom jewelry glistened under the soft lighting. My reflection stared back at me—a vision of beauty and tradition. But my heart raced with a mix of emotions that had been building up since my parents first told me about the arranged marriage with Devansh.

Leaving my home, my city, and everything familiar weighed heavily on me. I had always imagined my wedding day to be a celebration of love—a deep, personal connection with someone who had walked into my life and swept me off my feet. Instead, here I was, preparing to marry a man I had met only twice before. Devansh had been kind and respectful in our conversations, but could those brief moments form the foundation of a lifetime together?

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. My mother, Meenakshi, entered the room, her eyes welling with emotion as she looked at me.

“Paridhi, you look beautiful,” she whispered, her voice thick with pride and sorrow. She approached me, adjusting the dupatta on my head and holding my shoulders gently.

I met her gaze in the mirror, feeling a lump rise in my throat. “Ma... am I doing the right thing?”

Meenakshi smiled softly, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I know this is difficult, beta. But sometimes, the path we don’t expect leads us to the most beautiful destinations. I have faith that you and Devansh will find your way together.”

I nodded, though my doubts still lingered. I had to trust my family’s judgment. After all, they had raised me with love, and their wishes had always been for my happiness. I just hoped that this decision wouldn’t take me further away from who I truly was.

A sudden burst of music from outside indicated the arrival of the baraat—Devansh’s family, accompanied by musicians and dancers, had arrived. The sounds of celebration filled the air, and my heart beat faster.

“It’s time,” Meenakshi said, squeezing my hand reassuringly before leading me out of the room.

As we descended the grand staircase to the courtyard, I saw the gathering of guests—family, friends, and well-wishers—all decked out in colorful traditional attire. The venue sparkled under the evening lights, and the scent of rose petals filled the air as they were showered on me by the welcoming crowd.

Devansh, dressed in an ivory sherwani with a deep maroon safa, stood near the mandap, his face partially obscured by a sehra. He looked regal, every bit the groom I had expected. As our eyes met, he smiled softly, his expression warm and comforting. I took a deep breath and walked toward him, my steps slow and deliberate, each one bringing me closer to the life I was about to start.

The rituals began, each one steeped in centuries of tradition. The priest chanted sacred mantras as we circled the holy fire, and I felt the weight of the vows we exchanged. With each step around the flames, I found myself contemplating what these promises meant—not just in the context of marriage, but in the context of the life I would build in a foreign country, away from everything I had known.

As Devansh tied the mangal sutra around my neck and applied sindoor to my forehead, my heart swelled with the significance of the moment. I was now his wife. My future had changed in a matter of hours.

After the rituals concluded, we were showered with blessings from family members. Devansh’s parents, Rajiv and Alka Mehta, embraced me warmly. They had been kind and welcoming throughout the wedding preparations, reassuring me that I would be part of a loving family in London.

“Welcome to the family, beta,” Alka said with a soft smile. “We’re so happy to have you with us.”

I smiled back, my heart fluttering with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. I appreciated their warmth, but the reality of leaving my own family behind was starting to hit me hard.

Later that night, as the wedding festivities continued with dancing, music, and laughter, I found myself standing at the edge of the courtyard, watching the celebrations from a distance. Devansh approached me, his expression thoughtful.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “How are you feeling?”

I looked up at him, unsure how to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “It’s a lot to take in,” I admitted. “I’m leaving everything behind, Devansh. My family, my home...”

Devansh nodded, his expression understanding. “I know. It’s not easy, and I don’t expect you to adjust overnight. But I want you to know that I’ll be there with you, every step of the way. I’ll support you, no matter what.”

I appreciated his words, but the uncertainty still lingered. Could I really trust a man I had only met twice to be my partner in this journey? Marriage was a lifetime commitment, and while I respected Devansh, I wasn’t sure yet if that respect could grow into love.

“I’m scared,” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper.

Devansh’s gaze softened. “I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through, but I promise that we’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face this alone.”

His words, though simple, offered me some comfort. Maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to make this work.

As the night drew on and the celebrations began to wind down, Devansh and I were led to a quiet room where we could sit together for the first time as husband and wife. The room was dimly lit, the atmosphere serene after the chaos of the wedding.

For a few moments, we sat in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I glanced at Devansh, who seemed deep in thought himself.

“This is the beginning of a new chapter for both of us,” Devansh finally said, breaking the silence. “It won’t be easy, but I believe we’ll make it work. And who knows? Maybe in time, this marriage will become something more than just an arrangement.”

I nodded, unsure of what the future held, but for now, I allowed myself to take solace in the fact that we were in this together.

Tomorrow, I will leave for London. A new city, a new life, and a new identity awaited me. As I lay down that night, my mind wandered to the unknown path ahead, hoping that in this new world, I would find my place, my passion, and maybe even the love I had always dreamed of.