Twisting Roses

35: Confessions and Choices (part 1)

There was a subtle wind blowing in the air...soft poetry being played on the speakers. 
Inhaling the sizzling smell of chicken and beef being roasted on iron rods, I slowly took one sip from my pineapple juice.

The Barbecue function was taking place in the grand gardens of the hotel, around a huge swimming pool. While the men were supposed to stand near the barbecue stand and eat, which were placed in one far corner of the gardens, the women were ushered to square white tables.

With the beautiful poetry teasing my emotions, the cooling fans seldom blowing wind in my direction, I cupped my face, placed my elbow on the table and felt my gaze unconsciously searching the crowds roaming around. My heart still searched for him...still felt the presence. It was just a force of habit.

In front of me was Asmara sitting randomly grabbing tomato slices from the salad bowl and eating it. We both were feeling super hungry bored and couldn't really relax because Samiya Begum, Meeran, Sonia and Aliya were sitting a few tables away from me...them being directly in my line of sight.

"We will arrange barbecue for your wedding, too," Asmara announced, seemingly thoroughly impressed by the whole grand bar.b.q setup. The twinkling fairy lights hanging from the ceiling had her in a dreamy mood.

"I love simple things," I smiled.

"Oh, tell that to my brother. He is a huge fan of horse weddings." she joked. She was right. All the village men adored loud and happening functions. They celebrated joys in the loudest ways, but I really didn't want that.

Her words triggered an emotion...memories...that were best kept suppressed and forgotten. I remember the second day of my wedding. It was grand and luxurious. All the feelings were new. I was a shy and nervous bride. Since only a few relatives had been invited to my wedding, there was an air of unfamiliarity and intimidation lingering around me. Dressed up as a bride, ignoring my in-laws who were openly sulking and staying away from the stage, I sat vulnerably. Madam Geena had tried her best to feign a picture of fantasy in front of my parents.

The clock seemed to tick away that night. There were whispers and worries surrounding me. I remember feeling the shame because the main man of my wedding-Demir had decided to be absent for almost half of the wedding. Madam Geena had tried calling him...my parents asked questions, but he just didn't care.

I was made to go back to the bride's room because of the pitiful whispers surrounding me. The worry of Demir not showing up...him forever humiliating me had me feeling so dreadful. I had to constant dab my eyes to avoid having my makeup ruined. They say the water-proof makeup doesn't look good on the skin, but then, who did I want to look pretty for?

Soon, after, perhaps, the passage of hours, I was finally called outside. Apparently, Demir had finally decided to show up. Madam Geena said that he was waiting for me on the stage. I remember the eager emotions...the happiness of not being abandoned on this day. Yet, my emotions just showed how weak I had been.

Not even bothering about my heavy dress, I had turned into a coy bride and excitedly headed out of the room. All eyes were on me. Slowly, with a heart beating loudly, I had my parents and Madam Geena guide towards the stage.

Brides in my town kept their heads lowered and gaze towards the floor, but I took a peek. The thumping of my heart...seeing my brooding husband sitting on the stage, with his hair not brushed, messy...a stubble, it melted away all the complains and questions I wanted to say. I had planned to be angry...show attitude, but just the sight of him wiped away that pain.

I was awestruck.

I could feel my cousins being envious of my luck. Despite the loud poetry playing in the air, everything seemed to have blurred around me. All I saw was him. He had insulted me, shown up so late, not even bother tidying up, but at this moment; all that I cared about was the man who had stolen my heart the very day, Madam Geena decided to tell me about him. It was a strange feeling to care about someone without seeing them...hearing them. Just hearing about him had been a start for my heart.