𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

• 𝐭 𝐰 𝐞 𝐧 𝐭 𝐲 𝐬 𝐢 𝐱 •

A a r a v

The car door closed with a soft thud behind me, and I stood there for a moment, taking in the sight before me—the Arora family gathered at the entrance, their faces alight with joy and anticipation. Such a stark contrast to the storm raging within me.

I've always prided myself on being the master of my fate, a man with a plan, always several steps ahead.

But now, as I looked at the threshold of the Arora residence, I felt anything but in control.

The decision that loomed over me threatened to derail the life I had meticulously built, and I hadn't even had a say in it, cornered into an arrangement I never consented to, about to tie my life irrevocably to another's.

My gaze fell upon Meher's mother, her hands trembling slightly as she held the thali for the tilak ceremony. The sight tugged at something within me, a kind woman that she was, she remained blissfully unaware of my turmoil. A small, traitorous part acknowledged an attraction to Meher, yet marriage? Living as man and wife for a whole year? It felt unthinkable.

Deep down, a part of me acknowledged a certain pull towards Meher, an attraction that was more than just physical—it felt like a challenge, the spark of her spirit that drew me in. Yet, the thought of marriage, of binding my life to hers, was too overwhelming. To imagine a year, let alone a lifetime, with someone as infuriatingly stubborn and exasperating as her seemed like a master chef's recipe for disaster.

I could feel the weight of expectation as I stepped forward, each step heavier than the last. How had my life come to this? Marriage was supposed to be a choice, a mutual decision. But here I was, cornered by duty and legacy, about to tie my life to a woman who could very well be my undoing.

As I approached the gathering, I braced myself for the ceremony, for the act of surrendering to a path I never chose. And yet, amidst the turmoil, there was a glimmer of curiosity—what would life with Meher be like? Could there be a sliver of harmony amidst the chaos?

Yeah.. only time would tell.

As Mrs. Arora stepped forward with the thali, I steeled my expression into one of calm. Inside, turmoil and resistance raged like a caged beast. But I knew, as they did, that this was an arrangement I could not refuse, for the good of both our families if nothing else.

The Arora family formally welcomed us with warmth, despite the circumstances. Mrs. Arora applied tilak to my forehead - a sign of their acceptance and blessing.

I followed her dutifully into the wedding venue, the priest beginning his rituals. All around was joyful celebration, a stark contrast to my inner turmoil.

As the ceremony ended, Mrs. Arora surprised me with a playful grab of my nose. "You've come to ask for my daughter, so you must keep her happy!" she laughed. Her eyes twinkled with wisdom passed down through generations—that it was I who had come seeking her daughter's hand, and it was my duty to ensure her happiness and comfort. I could have dodged her swiftly, but instead, I allowed it, and her touch coaxed a genuine smile from me.

Laughter rippled through the crowd, a shared joy that momentarily eased the weight on my shoulders.

The clay pot ritual followed—a demonstration of overcoming obstacles as a couple.

I smirked at the irony of it. I was being dragged into this marriage against my will. Still, if duty demanded I play this role, I would perform it to the best of my abilities.

Raising my foot, I stomped down hard, shards scattering loudly across the floor. If struggles did arise with Meher, diplomacy and patience would serve us well, I resolved.