Prologue
To: LocalSalmanKhan (arnav-thechote@gmail.com)
Subject: Witty Wednesdays!
Dear Arnav,
Tomorrow is my marriage and I am all keyed up, more than needed. In a few minutes, I'll be escorted to the living room, whose facade has been revolutionized to something that triggers my stomach to commence its churning process. In the hall, buaji, amma, Amba dadi and all the old ladies are busy rehearsing their dance moves for tonight. I've heard through Payal didu that they will be shaking a leg together, on my Henna (menhendi) night.
Typing Henna, reverts my mind back to remove my rings for the Henna ceremony. Rest assured, the ring gifted by you will always adorn my finger- the only ornament on my hands, now. How will A fit in my palm in a few hours? Yes, a blush is plodding on my cheeks as the thought strikes my mind. However I wonder where Payal didu is? I had danced so much on her marriage, so much that my feet were swollen the next day. She should have been swaying on "Baari Barsi" or "Om Shaanti Om" by now.
Nervousness grips me as I put these words to the screen, how will my life be after tomorrow?
Aman seems to be the most adorable and caring person ever. I can't believe that I will be tying the knot with my first love! He has been here yesterday and has taken care of mom and dad as though they were his own parents. He has even shelled out the money for the sweets, ordered. He would be a dream husband, wouldn't he?
Sidelining him and his talks, what about you my dear Arnav Singh Raizada? No plans to attend the best friend's marriage? You ought to have your feet etched on the Manchester soil, a week prior to now. I expect you to make it here till tomorrow.
I miss you a lot! Sending you loads of kisses.
Your best friend,
Khushi Kumari Gupta- soon to be Khushi Mathur.
The cursor on the screen bounced until it hit the send' button and yet again, the Google Chrome window was closed.
She got up, marched to the mirror, enraptured by the beige sari that she was garbed in and, ultimately jigged on the couch that she had planted in front of the mirror, staring at her ornate look.
She would be sent off to her in-laws tomorrow, and would be no more a Gupta. Not that she was keen on getting married and being bade away- she hated what would happen tomorrow. Yes, she was grieving on this relationship as much as Gloomy was- Gloomy, strikes a chord doesn't it? Gloomy, Khushi's confident, her pet dog.
Lies.
Lies were all what she had written in her mail to Arnav. She was glum, that was okay, but, why make others disheartened too? Her mother had said that everyone had to get married someday, so why not her and that too, on that upcoming Thursday? She would have to get coupled up in that marital knot sooner or later, so why not then?
Aman Mathur.
Aman was handsome, attractive and all what could make a girl fall irrevocably in love but, not apt for Khushi. What did she want from her life? No one had the slightest clue except her. It was just that she didn't feel her heart fluttering whenever he was near her, neither were butterflies twisting and tangling in her stomach, nor did she get drowned in a pool of indecipherable emotions- both nervousness and zeal conjured together when he approached her. It was very... normal which she detested. She loathed standard things- it had to be extraordinary, incomparable or say quixotic when she was around the man, hadn't it?
Moreover she didn't have the opportunity to be attired in the Lehenga, she desired. It was all imposed by her parents- the apparels chosen weren't normal, but they weren't up to the mark, they failed to level up to Khushi Kumari Gupta's mark. Anyway, she had taken the risk and the fall seemed worth it, with Aman acting as though he was the most perfect prospective match for her. It couldn't get worse, could it? She would be an obedient wife- obedient, which held altogether, an unusual meaning from an alternate universe of Khushi- and would emerge out, triumphantly.
"Khushi?" the door knocked and her mother penetrated her face through the now ajar door, beaming at her. "Come, it's time for the mehendi," she smiled, the sides of her eyes crinkling and closed the door.
Khushi was wound up at the prospect of the dark brown substance, which was oddly named "Mehendi" being elegantly wrought about her palm, slotting in a petite shack of bliss, adorning her hand. Amongst all, in the undersized shack concocted on her palm, would reside, a perfectly blemished, A.
Others could slobber that the "A" stood out darker than the other design on her palm and that her marital life with Aman would be blissful, since according to them, A stood for Aman but, she knew something that others didn't need to be apprised of.
A could stand for Arnav Singh Raizada too, couldn't it?
Edited by PlumesOfLexis - 11 years ago
Vanshaj
Love Friendship Dating and Relationships
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