Shreya Chaudhary
An eighteen year girl who believes in love but do not want to feel betrayed by it. She is having everything from money to loving parents. Her life is nearly perfect with almost no close friends left with her. But she never cared abo...
My mother entered in my room with some of my relatives. Only ladies. My chachi, taiji and some of my cousins were there.
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Pretend that the dupatta is tucked on head.
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My mother came towards me and adjusted the dupatta of lehenga and lastly put it on my head and put a Bindi between my two eyebrows. And corrected my hairstyle a bit.
She made me wear the beautiful bangles, Maang tikka, heavy earrings with matching necklace, a ring bracelet embellished with pearls. It was beautiful. Finally I was ready when the makeup artists did the last touch up.
All the ladies were teasing me. Like seriously. They always acted so boring before but now see. They are really excited for my wedding I see.
After some time they all left me alone. I would stay in my room till the time Rehan's family will reach here.
I was sitting in front of the mirror looking at my reflection when my mother came behind me and started pinning the veil on my head with pins so that it remains as it is when I move around.
After doing so she came infront of me and kissed my forehead.
"you would not repent this decision ", she said lovingly.
"I hope so",I said while looking downwards. She made me look in her eyes and the thing I found was determination. She was determined with the fact that I will stay happy. This fact unknowingly filled tears in my eyes.
"wouldn't you and Papa miss me", I asked with a heavy voice trying my best to control my emotions.
"we will but we have each other. We will try to keep us busy. ", she said and with that a lone tear escaped from her left eye.
This was enough for me to start crying. I was constantly crying which was accompanied with my hiccups.
She hugged me tightly to her chest and I remembered the day when I fall down while learning to ride a bicycle. She hugged me the same way.
