Indian Wedding Tales

J A N K I : part II

I wasn't sure it was me or the Aloo Paratha, but it just didn't go down my throat. The mint chutney, ketchup and even the chai didn't help. In the end I gave up, I brought the untouched breakfast back to the kitchen once I was sure Mr. Singh was no longer in the house.

"Are you not feeling well?" The maid, a thirty year old round lady asked me.

"Just a bit under the weather," I answered as I walked out the kitchen. I took some time as I observed the house that I lived in. It had been more than six months yet it was as foreign to me as the night I had arrived here.

I picked up the toy that laid by the foot of the chair Sana had been sitting on. The stuffed elephant was not even a month old, its outer fabric was bright and his button eyes made it adorable to play with. I decided to carry it back into Sana's room.

As I trailed my fingers along the wall while I climbed up the stairs, my fingers met with the photos hanging on it. Numerous times had my gaze fell on them but I'd never really looked at them. They all seemed rather personal.

The pictures were of young Sana, Mr. Singh sporting an effortless smile that I had never seen and Sana's mother.

All I knew was that she succumbed to breast cancer two years ago, leaving a very small daughter behind. A daughter that needed the nurture of a mother's love.

My eyes grazed through her picture and took in her details. Her high cheek bones gave an ageless look. The banarasi saree she wore was stunning and her eyes were thickly lined with kohl. She looked... like a royal princess.

She could wear authority as an ornament and power as her crown.

I stood mesmerized as her portrait captured my attention. Questions started springing in my mind as I kept looking in into her eyes.

How was their marriage? How was she as a wife? How was Mr. Singh as a husband? How was she as a mother?

Would I ever be able to take her place in Sana's life?

The questions bombarded my conscience and I forced myself to walk back to my room. I needed to focus and let go of my past before I dug into someone else's.

I heaved a sigh as I flopped down on the bench near the window of my room. The morning sun felt nice on my skin, the neighbors were planning yet another party as I spotted their maid fixing lights in the garden.

I closed my eyes but it seemed like a mistake because in the next moment a chill spread over my scalp. It felt like cold fingers caressing my head, playing with my hair.

My angel...

Gasping, I snapped my eyes open and jumped from my seat. The feeling lingered and it was so suffocating that I couldn't even scream. My throat was logged and my heart felt like it was over working.

I caught my face in the mirror and realized that I looked scared. The fear clearly evident in my eyes was ever present. The dullness of my face didn't hide the fact that I barely looked alive.

After all who would've want to be alive?

A part of me was gone forever. Now, all I felt was a big gaping hole in my life and heart. The void was so hard to fill, I tried, I tried so hard.

I tried taking my own life, I tried joining Vansh in the after-life. But I never succeded. His absence was eating me alive.

I guess my parents were happy. Their daughter, who ran away with a man she loved, lost her husband within a week of her marriage. They probably think I deserved it.

And so when they tried to marry me off, I didn't mind. I was done running and fighting. I just needed peace in any way I could get. I had lost Vansh forever; what could be worse than that?