Threads of Tradition: Tales Of Indian Arranged Marriages

2.

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotions and preparations. My mother’s announcement about the potential marriage to Rohan Kulkarni hangs over me like a persistent cloud, casting a shadow on everything I do. I try to focus on work, but my mind is constantly drifting to thoughts of this stranger who is supposed to become a part of my life.

I’m sitting in the living room, flipping through a stack of paperwork, when the doorbell rings. It’s early afternoon, and the sound feels jarring against the stillness of the house. I glance at the clock—my parents must be expecting someone. Reluctantly, I set aside the papers and headed to the door.

To my surprise, when I open it, I find Rohan Kulkarni standing there, dressed in a sharp business suit that accentuates his imposing yet refined presence. He’s a tall man with a commanding posture and a well-groomed appearance. His eyes, dark and thoughtful, meet mine with a mixture of curiosity and something else I can’t quite place.

“Good afternoon, Aaravi,” he says, his voice smooth and confident. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, not at all,” I reply, stepping aside to let him in. “Please, come in.”

He enters the house with a polite nod and follows me into the living room. My parents are already there, waiting with hopeful expressions. I can feel the tension in the room, and I wonder if Rohan can sense it too.

“Rohan, please have a seat,” my mother says, gesturing to the sofa. “Aaravi, could you bring some tea for our guest?”

I nod and head to the kitchen, my mind racing. The idea of meeting Rohan in such an intimate setting is daunting. As I prepare the tea, I can hear snippets of conversation between Rohan and my parents. They speak of business successes, mutual acquaintances, and other pleasantries, but I’m too distracted to focus on their words.

When I return with the tea, Rohan is engaged in a lively conversation with my father about a recent business deal. His demeanor is charismatic, and he seems at ease, despite the underlying tension in the room. I hand him a cup of tea and sit down across from him, forcing a polite smile.

“Thank you, Aaravi,” Rohan says, accepting the tea with a warm smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

I nod, trying to mask my discomfort. “Likewise. My mother has told me a bit about you.”

“I hope it was all good,” he says with a chuckle, though his eyes remain serious.

I smile faintly, though I’m not entirely sure what to say next. “So, what do you do, Rohan?”

He begins to explain his role in his family’s business, detailing his achievements and the challenges he’s faced. His narrative is impressive, and I find myself caught up in his stories. There’s a charm to him that’s hard to ignore, and for a moment, I forget the reason for our meeting.

As the conversation continues, Rohan’s demeanor shifts. He becomes more introspective, speaking candidly about his past—the end of his previous marriage and the lessons he’s learned. There’s a vulnerability in his words that catches me off guard.

“I understand this must be a lot to take in,” Rohan says, his tone softer. “I’m sure you have your reservations, and I wouldn’t blame you for that.”

I meet his gaze, searching for honesty behind his polished exterior. “I do have reservations. It’s not easy to think about starting over, especially after everything that’s happened.”

“I can imagine,” he replies, nodding thoughtfully. “I’ve been where you are. I understand the fear and uncertainty. But I believe we both deserve a chance at happiness, even if it comes in unexpected ways.”

His words resonate with me, and for a brief moment, I see a glimpse of the man beneath the façade. Yet, the reality of our situation remains stark. The idea of marrying someone I barely know is daunting, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being pushed into a role that doesn’t fit me.

The conversation continues, and we discuss various topics, from our interests to our future aspirations. Rohan’s ability to connect on a personal level is evident, and I find myself feeling more comfortable around him. But comfort isn’t enough to erase the doubts that linger in my mind.

As the meeting draws to a close, Rohan stands up, ready to leave. He offers me a reassuring smile. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, Aaravi. I understand this is a lot to consider, and I want you to know that I’m here if you have any questions or need to talk.”

“Thank you, Rohan,” I say, trying to sound sincere. “I appreciate your understanding.”

He nods and heads toward the door. My parents follow him out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sit quietly, processing the whirlwind of emotions from our meeting. Rohan Kulkarni is undoubtedly a remarkable man, but is he the right choice for me?

The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the room, and I feel the weight of my decision pressing down on me. It’s clear that my parents’ intentions are rooted in care and concern, but their well-meaning efforts only add to my confusion. The prospect of a new beginning with Rohan seems both tantalizing and terrifying.

As I sit in the silence of the house, I know that I have a difficult decision ahead of me. It’s not just about marrying Rohan—it’s about finding a way to reconcile my past with the future that lies before me.