Scarred

Chapter 10

Adorned in scarlet;

With erratic heart beat

And sweaty palms

She awaits the prince

A daze in her pupils

He will lift the satin veil

And carry her to Elysium

The veil is ripped off;

Suffocating the gleam in her eyes

Agony resting in its wake

And she stares at the loathsome visage

Of Lucifer himslef.

-Mahrukh Ameen

"Daniyah Shah, Daughter of Mohuiddin Shah, do you accept Emaad Kirmani, son of Faisal Kirmani as your husband with the decided amount of mehr?" The question echoed in her ears, she clenched her hands into a fist, which was placed on her laps, so tightly that she felt her nails digging in her palms, she remembered all her therapy sessions she had been attending, despite the ways her therapist suggested to get out of what she was calling a mess, Daniyah was sitting in a hotel room surrounded by her family and imam ready to seal her fate.

"Daniyah?" she felt her mother hiss beside her and she closed her eyes as she nodded ignoring the continuous battle of her heart and her mind. The question was repeated twice and every single time she didn't utter a word just with a slight movement of her neck she gave her consent.

He is the man you love.

She heard her heart silently whispering.

Is he the man you thought?

She heard her brain questioning.

We are misunderstanding him.

The naïve heart argued again.

But what about the probabilities we have been getting?

Her brain sighed and she closed her eyes. There was no point of mourning, it was decided long ago that she is ready to give him a chance for the sake of the people she love, she is ready to make her mother proud by connecting her family with him, but this silly heart had always been stubborn.

The clash of her heart and her brain was halted by her mother who wrapped her arms around her and Daniyah sniffed the signature fragrance of her mother, a tear finally escaped her eyes as she felt her father placing his hand on her head and then kissing the top of it.

Sitting numbly in the centre of the bed Daniyah listened the joyful conversations around her; she would momentarily smile and sometimes even softly giggle until she was called to the ballroom of the hotel where the function was taking place. With the help of her sister and cousin Daniyah got out of bed.

"Masha Allah," they all gasped for the hundredth time that day. Daniyah smiled as she held her blood red dupatta which was covering her head from one hand and similar color lehnga with golden embroidery, from other. Today she was epitome of perfection; her glory was making everything dull around her.

The night also descended with the same awe as everyone present around her and the hour of her departure neared, under the shadow of Quran she was sent off to another place, another world.