First time when her scent veiled his nose buds, he had no choice but to look around. There she was. Cladded in a red satin drape, pleated neatly she looked no lesser than a fairy itself. Those pearl beaded jhumka and a long golden necklace over the deep neckline enhanced her womanhood. She was smiling, a cute one, he defined. The closer she walked, more divine she looked. The sound of her bangles, felt called out his name. That moment, without a second thought he knew she was the one. His soul mate. He closed his eyes and visualized her again from different angles, in different outfits and she looked pretty without any doubt. Finally, when she let out an infectious laughter he was infected, lethally. He had become hers, forever.
But before the love story began, there was a question about her identity. It was his distant relative's engagement. So she belonged to his family tree, from some branch. He was certain. Being the same caste, his future marriage would move in a smooth fashion without any oppositions from his family. But he had no idea who she was. He had to ask her. Walking towards her, braiding the next sixty years of his life with her, he let out a meek smile.
She was surrounded by a bunch of women, all chattering and giggling and glittering. He didn't know how to break the 'chakravyuh' to reach her. But he managed, power of love. When he stood right in front of her, looking in to her brown eyes he was speechless like he had a stroke and paralyzed for life. Not amid the crowd, he thought. He silently made his way towards the corner and kept gazing at her. Waiting for her to be alone, waiting to open his heart, waiting to love and be loved. That evening, the only thing that mattered him the most was her approval.
He was scared like a child entering school the first time. He was aware of the fact, he wasn't handsome. The probability of her "no" "get lost" "are you mad?" were flying to reach the sky. Scared. Hopeful. Hopeless. Nervous. He stood there all alone, waiting for her. The engagement, the family gathering, the joy of being together didn't grab his attention that day. He wanted to talk but fear of rejection kept pummeling him making him lose his confidence. He followed her wherever she went and stood at a corner. Life was only about her. At least on that day. Today, after twenty three years, when he looks at his wedding album, he only thinks "May be these pictures would have looked even more beautiful".
But before the love story began, there was a question about her identity. It was his distant relative's engagement. So she belonged to his family tree, from some branch. He was certain. Being the same caste, his future marriage would move in a smooth fashion without any oppositions from his family. But he had no idea who she was. He had to ask her. Walking towards her, braiding the next sixty years of his life with her, he let out a meek smile.
She was surrounded by a bunch of women, all chattering and giggling and glittering. He didn't know how to break the 'chakravyuh' to reach her. But he managed, power of love. When he stood right in front of her, looking in to her brown eyes he was speechless like he had a stroke and paralyzed for life. Not amid the crowd, he thought. He silently made his way towards the corner and kept gazing at her. Waiting for her to be alone, waiting to open his heart, waiting to love and be loved. That evening, the only thing that mattered him the most was her approval.
He was scared like a child entering school the first time. He was aware of the fact, he wasn't handsome. The probability of her "no" "get lost" "are you mad?" were flying to reach the sky. Scared. Hopeful. Hopeless. Nervous. He stood there all alone, waiting for her. The engagement, the family gathering, the joy of being together didn't grab his attention that day. He wanted to talk but fear of rejection kept pummeling him making him lose his confidence. He followed her wherever she went and stood at a corner. Life was only about her. At least on that day. Today, after twenty three years, when he looks at his wedding album, he only thinks "May be these pictures would have looked even more beautiful".
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