She looked very pretty today in bright red saree, stone jewelries and her long hair decorated with fresh jasmine. It was her wedding day. But the brightness her attire had, was not seen on her face. She looked sleep deprived and tired. She looked at the man who was going to be her husband in a few minutes, for the first time. According to their tradition, girls don’t have voice to opinion about their marriage nor the privilege to see the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with.
She couldn't feel any sort of emotions nor mere companionship towards him. Thou not yet ready for marriage, she expected a man who was near to her age, but seeing the person next to her, made her stop breathing for a moment. He was old enough to be her father!
How could she marry him? How could she spend rest of the days and nights with this old man?
She wanted to run off from there. Wanted to flee away from that crowd who showed no mercy on her.
But even before she regained her breathe back, a mangalsutra was hanging down her neck. With her permission? With her smile?