This story concerns a highly esteemed royal family residing in Udaipur, Rajasthan. The unwanted marriage of the to-be-crowned king of Rajasthan. The king of Rajasthan was unwillingly betrothed as part of his duty to provide a Queen for his kingdom.
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The atmosphere in the palace was electric, filled with laughter, music, and the fragrant scent of flowers. Today was the day I would marry Meera, and I could feel the anticipation buzzing in the air. As I stood in front of the beautifully adorned mandap, I took a moment to soak in the scene around me—the intricate decorations, the vibrant colours, and the beaming faces of my family and friends.
The rituals began with the Ganesh Puja, an invocation for blessings from Lord Ganesha. Baba sa, performed the puja, meticulously arranging the offerings while Maa sa, stood beside him, guiding the rituals with her steady presence. I glanced over at Meera's family, who were all gathered with an air of excitement. Her father, Dadi, Maa and Chachu, Chachi, were deep in conversation with my family, discussing logistics while exchanging warm smiles.
"Adhyay, are you ready?" Devi, asked, nudging me playfully.
I chuckled, "As ready as I'll ever be."
The next ritual was the Kanya Daan, where Meera's father would give her away. It was a poignant moment, symbolizing the transition of Meera from her family to mine. I watched as her father approached the mandap, Meera beside him, looking ethereal in her Navari. The way her father looked at her—filled with love and pride—was a sight that pulled at my heartstrings. It reminded me of my own family's love and the responsibilities that came with this union.
As the priest recited the mantras, I noticed the tears in Veenita aunty's eyes. She held Meera's hand tightly, whispering words of encouragement as she prepared to let her daughter go. "You'll always be my little girl," I heard her say softly, and my heart swelled with admiration for the bond they shared.
"Whoever gets to marry her is truly lucky," I thought, and then I realized that lucky man was me.
Finally, the moment came. Meera's father placed her hand into mine, and as he did, a wave of emotion swept over me. "Take care of her," he said, his voice steady but filled with deep emotion. I nodded, determined to honour his trust.
The next part of the ceremony was the Saptapadi, where we would take seven vows together. Each step we took symbolized a promise—a commitment to stand by each other through every circumstance, to share joy and sorrow, and to support one another.
As we walked around the sacred fire, the warmth of the flames flickering in front of us, I could feel the weight of the moment. Meera's hand in mine was firm and reassuring. I looked into her eyes, which sparkled with a mix of nervousness and excitement. This was a significant step, and I silently vowed to protect her and be her partner in every sense.
With each vow recited by the priest, I felt a deeper connection forming between us. "Together, we will create a happy and prosperous home," I promised, echoing the words spoken.
After the vows, we participated in the Mangal Sutra ceremony, where I tied the sacred thread around her neck, symbolizing our union. My heart raced as I secured the knot, a tangible representation of our commitment to one another. As I filled her hairline with the sindoor I was completed, I could feel her take a deep breath as a tear escaped from her eye which I immediately wiped off.
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