Finding the Lost Souls (Watty 2018)

3. THE NUPTIAL VOWS

Marriage doesn't guarantee togetherness-it takes faith to make it complete.

From childhood, Ishita had witnessed the blooming love between her Amma and Appa. Their togetherness, trust, and unwavering support for each other made her feel safe as a 10-year-old. Watching her parents, she grew to understand the sacred bond of marriage. But life had been cruel. The day she lost her Amma, everything changed.

Now, as a bride, her mother's words echoed in her mind-love, trust, care, friendship. But those words felt foreign. The man she was about to marry was a stranger, his name the only thing she knew. The thought of this unknown, unwanted bond terrified her. But what choice did she have? Tears were her only solace.

Every girl dreams of a prince charming. So did Ishita. But for her, this man was merely a pawn-a means to fulfill her parents' ambitions. And what did that make her? The reason behind a business deal, or a soul condemned to bear the weight of a marriage devoid of love?

As evening approached, Ishita's tears fell relentlessly. She sat in front of the full-length mirror, clad in a pink bathrobe, her wet hair clinging to her back. Her eyes lingered on the dark maroon henna adorning her hands and the blood-red chooda on her wrists-symbols of a fate she couldn't escape.

The once cluttered room was now tidy, with her belongings packed and ready to be sent to her new home. She glanced at the red madisar saree draped across her lap, a poignant reminder of her Amma. Beneath the saree lay a golden-framed photo of her mother, hidden but not forgotten. Her heart ached with a loss that nothing could ever heal.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the door. Mihika entered, her presence lighting up the room as she adjusted the golden ceiling lights. Without a word, she picked up a towel and began drying Ishita's wet hair, a comforting gesture that brought a faint smile to Ishita's lips.

"You'll catch a cold if you keep sitting like this," Mihika said, adjusting the AC temperature. Sensing Ishita's silence, she knelt in front of her and took her clammy hands. "Missing aunty?" Mihika's gaze fell on the old photo frame, understanding the turmoil her friend was enduring.

"If Amma were alive, none of this would be happening," Ishita whispered, her voice fragile. The rest of her pain spilled through silent tears.

Mihika pulled her into a comforting embrace, rubbing her back gently. Before she could say more, they heard heavy footsteps approaching. Shanaya Iyer, Ishita's stepmother, entered the room, exuding elegance in an ivory Banarasi saree paired with red kundan jewelry.

"Ishita, why aren't you dressed yet?" Shanaya's voice was sharp.

"Sorry, Mom. I was just about to..." Ishita hesitated. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"Speak, baby."

"Can I... Can I wear Amma's kanjivaram today?" Ishita's voice was barely audible as she lowered her head, bracing for her stepmother's reaction.

Shanaya's face twisted in anger. She snatched the old madisar from Ishita's hands and flung it across the room.

"You want to wear this cheap, old saree on your wedding? We chose a bridal dress worth lakhs to match this lavish wedding! Don't test my patience. Your father's reputation is at stake. Mihika, make her ready. The muhurtam starts in an hour."

Tears welled up in Ishita's eyes as Shanaya stormed out. Her gaze returned to the mirror, where her reflection would soon be transformed into something she no longer recognized.

---

Meanwhile, Raman arrived at the grand wedding venue, the sleek black Audi coming to a halt. He stepped out, his heart heavy, as he took in the sight of the bungalow adorned with shimmering lights and extravagant floral decorations. Everything was orchestrated to perfection-everything for his parents. His wishes, even his attire, were secondary.