Periods, Pyaar And Patriarchy

Chapter Twenty-eight

The wedding was beautiful.

The four days that Shweta had spent had been an easy, breezy relaxation. And somehow, the pred wedding festivities of somebody else's celebration of love had managed to ease her a little as well. Initially, she had been worried that she would feel worse and much more spiteful if she were surrounded by lovey-dovey couples all day long but that was not the case. She felt much easier, happier to be in her friends' company, and the constant emptiness that Vaibhav had left behind felt as though it were being greatly eased.

The haldi ceremony had taken place at the beautiful resort. The bridal party had taken the ceremony at the rooftop of the hotel, the gorgeous backdrop of the blue Shiwaliks smiling at them. There was no need for a photobooth. And the bride as she dazzled in her comfortable, sunny yellow lehenga; resembled the picture-perfect exemplification of love.

The sheer golden lehenga that Shweta
and Sanskriti had worn, sat comfortably on them; making them shiver when the slightly cold mountain breeze blew past every once and now. But because the ceremony took place from late morning into the early evening, the chill wasn't quite acute. The warmth of the sun was equally easy on that day, and both Shweta and Sanskriti had marveled at how soft it felt.

In comparison to the oppressive Delhi heat- the sun there felt like a warm, golden blanket. The rays that fell around, as the afternoon rolled over had made the affair look even more resplendent. And the bride, coated from head to toe in turmeric paste, basked in the warm glow as her relatives and guests gathered all around her.

The Mehendi ceremony had been an extravagant affair as well. The wedding festivities had been intended to be a lavish affair; the generational wealth of both the families doled out for a week-long affair of only pleasure and indulgence. Shweta and Sanskriti had gotten themselves shararas; Shweta's in bottle green and Sanskriti's in pale green.

That day had been even more fun than they'd imagined; and once they'd gotten their own hands printed with idyllic henna flowers, they'd sneaked off from the rooftop- choosing to spend the afternoon with Sankriti's younger cousins who were gamboling at the gardens below. It had been a wonderful easy afternoon for both the girls, their cell phones tucked away safely in their rooms.

Neither of them had felt the desperate need to check on their phones. Sanskriti in particular hadn't felt the need to take one perfectly proportionate selfie after another and then delete three-quarters of them. The wedding photographer had taken over the arduous task and was seen patiently taking pictures and inane boomerangs of cholis in slow motion.

On the night of the bachelorette, with two drinks in him; he would confess. "If I'm asked to take even one more of those slow-motion videos, I think I'll hurl myself from the roof!"

Aditya had arrived the next day, right in time for the Sangeet ceremony. That particular ceremony had been more boring than they'd hoped it would be. Shweta and Sanskriti had initially prepared and dolled themselves up for a night of dance and music- but the party seemed to be turned more in favor of their aunts and their old-fashioned music choices.

While Aditya seemed to be enjoying, his taste in music extended to a timeline before his birth, the same could not be said for the girls. Shweta and Sanskriti only managed to indulge so far, until they both decided that they were very, very bored. There were only so many times that they could clench their jaws and stifle their yawns.

But every single time they did that, they looked as though they were hurtling through a black hole. The expression, paired with the elaborate eyeliners, seemed even more alarming and when a concerned aunty looked their way more than once, Shweta and Sanskriti decided it was enough. There were only so many of Mithun Chakroborty songs that a girl can take on one day.