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| Picture Credit: Internet |
The room
was in total silence as Deepa carried a tray of specially brewed filter coffee
for the guests who were waiting eagerly to devour the hot beverage as well as Deepa
herself.
With
trembling hands she delivered the coffee to every guest seated on their freshly
prepared sofa (keeping the event in mind).
Clad
in a crisp peacock green Kanjeevaram saree with braided hair and jasmine
flowers to adorn them, Deepa marched into the room like a goddess. Only that
she didn’t feel like a goddess and was nervous to the hilt.
After
providing the performance of the day she was made to sit next to the woman who
seemed to be the family matriarch.
Deepa
was strictly instructed by the elders in the family to be seated with heads
bowed down and not to look up or in the eyes of anybody who might ask her
questions.
Until
now she was nervously installed in her bedroom as the guests chattered about
the ‘boy’, about how well-mannered and well cultured he is, his education, his
job, his income and on and on.
Deepa
hanged on with baited breath for the house to call upon her and the moment
arrived too quickly with Deepa handling the tray of coffee and her aunt
carrying the evening snacks.
Now
sandwiched between the mother and the sister of the prospective bridegroom she
awaited the impending storm.
Amma
was waiting in the room nearby, with her ears completely focused on the
happenings in the living room. She was advised by the same ‘elders’ to stay put
at the adjoining room and to not come out of the room. What else do you expect
a widow to be doing on such an auspicious occasion!
Deepa’s
uncles and grandparents, who had taken charge of her future on account of her Appa’s
absence, occupied a minuscule area of the room, with most space occupied by the
boys’ side, who had come out on a rally.
Deepa
was yet to look at the boy who was sitting opposite her and who she felt was
equally nervous, what with the sound of his feet thumping the marble floor
continuously.
There
were other activities happening in the room. The women were discussing the saree
design and color and the amount of gold the girl had on her, the men were
ogling at her perfect figure and beautiful structure, the elders were trying to
munch on the snack with difficulty without their dentures and the kids were
running around the room.
Everybody
seemed to be lost in their own musings, when suddenly an elderly voice awoke
them abruptly and brought them back to the room.
“…
So child, you completed your graduation and currently working with an accounts
firm?”
Deepa
nodded to approve their knowledge, with her head still bowed down.
“What
will be your height beti?” chirped in another voice who was awaiting a chance
to talk.
“Hmm,
5.2”, no I think 5.3”” said Deepa meekly.
“Oh,
you don’t know your height” chuckled the voice finding a reason to laugh and be
heard of.
“Why
don’t you stand, so we can have a better look at you?” volunteered an uncle,
anticipating a better view of her sculpted body.
Deepa
went red in the face, but that was not to be seen, since she was bowed down and
in any case they didn’t care about it.
She
stood up tensely, clutching the hem of her saree. All eyes were fixed on her
and roved nonchalantly, as if examining an item on sale.
“Just
walk around the room in your beautiful saree like a model, won’t you beti?” pat
came a voice urging the girl to walk around the room so they are confirmed of
her ‘way of walking’ and to scrutinize if there was any problem with her gait.
Deepa
did as she was ordered. She came back and stood next to her allotted place in
the room, between the mother and sister. She waited to be told to sit down. But
the moving eyes had not yet stopped.
Seeing
the situation, one of her uncle came to rescue and asked her to sit down in a
polite way, not wanting to affect their sentiments.
As
soon as she was seated, a string of questions followed soon, some answered by
Deepa, some by her relatives. The guests tried to access information about the
quantity of gold to be given, wedding preparation expense, property details in
name of Deepa, and many other materialistic topics.
In
all these chaos, nobody gave a thought to Deepa and her opinion, whether she
wants to marry Sudhir, whether she is happy with the alliance etc.
And
as if as an answer to all these questions, Sudhir cleared his throat loud
enough for people in the room to shut-up and listen. He stood up, walked across
the room, came in front of Deepa, went on his knees, took her shivering hands
in his own, lifted her chin up, made her look at him and whispered softly – “I’d
like to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”
The
room had gone dead silent.
Sudhir’s
mother opened her mouth to protest, but he simply silenced her with a wave of
his hand, without taking off his eyes from Deepa.
Deepa
forgot her anxiety and worry when she looked into Sudhir’s eyes. Is this what
they call as ‘love at first sight’?
After
15 rejections in the last 2 years, here is someone who not only approved her
but also wanted to be approved by her. Nobody in her family ever cared to ask
her if she liked a particular boy. It was always the boy’s preference which was
considered.
But
these were not the only reasons for her decision. The warmth of his touch, the
serenity that engulfed her in his presence and the love that she saw in his
eyes played a major part in this saga.
Deepa
lowered her eyes, this time blushing and not as her elders had commanded, and moaned
a soft ‘yes’ to Sudhir, who savored the moment before breaking into a blissful
smile.
Love
Happens! And his eyes said it all!
And yes, They Lived Happily Ever After!
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| Picture Credit: Internet |
