The decorations were breathtakingly done. The work done by the decorators was impeccable. Everything was colour-coordinated and most of it was pink and white. Those are the favourite colours of the bride, after all! It was the typical Indian wedding, with teenagers having vanilla ice creams, kids running around and their parents trying to stop them, and old ladies showing off their new jewels; basically, it was a big fat desi wedding.
The atmosphere was filled with the smell of happiness and food! The groom was a handsome guy and his to-be wife, Inaya, was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. Her face was glowing with excitement and her eyes showed a tinge of nervousness. The single dimple on her left cheek was enough to make the groom fall. The rituals began and the smoke from the holy fire loomed over near the ceiling, much similar to the clouds of gloom looming over me.
I slowly made my way to Inaya and the minute she saw me, her eyes twinkled and she pinched my cheeks. “Awww, thank you so much for coming! Did you meet Vihaan yet? You didn’t? Come, I will get you guys introduced.” She was rambling on as she always does and all I could think of was how lucky Vihaan was. I was snapped out of my reverie when I heard her say “I love you too Vihaan.” They were so cute together and she seemed to be on cloud nine! I stood there grinning at them when they turned to me. I pretended to ward off the evil eye off them and we laughed at that.
There are some things that cannot be compared to anything else because if compared, it loses its beauty and divinity. Happiness is one such. She was so happy and after the seven rounds round the holy fire, when they were married, I realized that along with happiness, sorrow is also one such. No metaphor can measure the depth of sorrow and no writer can capture the essence of it. For the sorrow that I was feeling now…it constricted my heart and I felt a stabbing pain.
Teenagers were having ice creams, but the flavour was now chocolate. Kids were still running around, though exhausted. Parents were trying to stop them but not with as much energy as before. Ladies were still gossiping, though not about their jewels. It was still the same: a perfect desi wedding and yet, something had changed. Things have changed and yet are the same. Inaya is now someone’s wife and yet my love for her is the same. Yes, I am in love with Inaya.