Rasm-e-Mohabbat

A soft sob left her lips that were painted in the most beautiful shade of red, her eyes decorated with different eye-shadows, eye liner and khol, that roamed all over her reflection in the mirror, she felt numb, she wanted to cry yet there were no tears in her eyes. The heavy ghunghat (veil), adorned with various small stones and jewels, with delicate hand crafted zardozi, was placed on her head, shoulder and wrappUued around her frame completing her as a bride. There she stood, the maids adding her last touch ups, before she walked down the path that'll change her life completely, a path she didn't know yet she knew it all. she was so familiarly unknown to. She felt dai Amma, handing the bouquet in her hands, she crossed her cheek softly and said something but her words were muffled. Her inner thoughts ate her alive, killed her, yet here she was standing, looking stunning and gorgeous, just like the bride of Nawab Zeeshan Meer Ali Khan should look. "Ya Allah...Hume himmat dijiyega." The prayer came out in a mere broken whisper.

"Sehrish Khanum-binte-Jawed Khanum..kya aapko ye nikah qubool hai?" The question ragged through her being, the words numbing her senses. "Kya aapko Nawab Zeeshan Meer Ali Khan-binte- Nawab Farooq Meer Ali Khan ke saath ye nikah qubool hai?" There came that question again. She felt someone patting her back, comforting her, yet she felt devoid of every sense, her body felt like it was made of wax and it's slowly melting down, like her heart will fall out of her chest, like she's been stabbed over and over again. Her hands shook, just like her soul. "Qubool hai..." Came the answer, even when she thought that her throat was clogged up with words.