Where Fear Met Kindness
The scent of marigold flowers and burning incense filled the mandap, wrapping the air in a sacred warmth. And there I stood, draped in a red bridal saree… waiting for a man I didn’t even know... not even his name. How cruel, isn’t it?My mind was a storm of questions I had no answers to. Could I really trust him? Would he see me as a person… or just another object, like so many women are treated? Or perhaps, would he be gentle? Kind? I didn’t know anything about the man I was about to spend my life with.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could even realize it. Around me, my dadi and her best friend ;who is his grandmother i guess beamed with joy, their laughter echoing softly… as if my silence, my fear, my pain didn’t exist at all. Suddenly, I felt someone sit beside me… it was him. I didn’t dare to look at his face. I kept my head lowered, my hands resting quietly in my lap.
Soon, the priest began chanting the mantras. The sound filled the air, but my mind felt far away. I could only notice the crowd around me… their whispers, their smiles… and those mantras that kept going on and on.The rituals began, one after another… even though I barely understood them.
First, we stood up for the saat pheras. The priest asked us to walk around the sacred fire seven times. Each round, he said, was a promise… promises of trust, care, and staying together for life. But as I walked, my steps felt heavy. How could I promise a lifetime to someone I had just met?
After that, he gently filled the parting of my hair with sindoor. The red color felt warm against my skin… a mark that I now belonged to someone. My heart felt strange, like something had changed forever.
Then he tied the mangalsutra around my neck. The black beads rested against my chest, simple yet powerful. Everyone around us smiled, some even clapped softly. To them, it was a happy moment… but inside me, there was only silence.I was about to step down after the ritual… when suddenly, I felt his fingers wrap gently around my wrist, stopping me midway.
Before I could even understand what was happening, he stepped forward… and then, to everyone’s shock, he knelt down in front of me.The entire mandap fell silent.He lowered his head, touching my feet with respect… and then softly pressed his lips against them. My heart stopped. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.Gasps spread through the crowd, but he didn’t look at anyone else… only at me.
In a low, steady voice, he whispered,"I will respect you for the rest of my life… I will never treat you as less than me."
"You are not coming into my house as someone to be controlled… but as someone to be honored. I will make sure my house feels like a temple for you… not a cage."
For the first time that day… I slowly lifted my eyes to look at him eye to eye .No one dared to say a word… there was only silence all around ....a disappointed silence .
He slowly stood up and looked into my eyes. For a moment, I saw a faint shine of tears in them.Then, very gently, he cupped my face… as if I was something to be cared for.
Without saying anything more, he turned and stepped down from the mandap.And I… followed him silently..I sat inside his car… something I had only ever admired from a distance. And today, I was actually sitting in it.
He started the engine without saying a word.Before the car moved, my dadi came close and gently cupped my face. Her touch felt warm… but her words didn’t.
"Don’t forget your duties," she whispered. It felt like a slap across my face.I could see it in her eyes… she was disappointed. Not in him..but in me. As if what happened at the mandap was somehow my fault… even though I hadn’t done anything. I nod slowly my words dried inside my mouth . She smiled softly , before stepping back letting the car began to move.
The road was silent… and so was my mind.
After almost two hours of silence, the car finally stopped in front of a small house. It looked so different from our kaccha house… simple, yet strong.
He turned off the engine.For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then, in a soft voice, he spoke,
"Rudransh…"
"I know you don’t know my name… and I don’t know yours either," he said gently.
"May I know your name?" My voice felt almost dead.
I slowly cleared my throat before whispering,
"Vredika…"
For the first time… he heard my voice. He nodded gently, as if he didn’t want to scare me with too many words.
"Let’s go inside,..Vredi.." he said softly.
He didn’t call me Vredika… but Vredi. Something about it felt strange… yet warm. Before I could think much, he spoke again, his voice calm but a little heavy,
"Uh..Just like you, Vredi… I lost my parents at a very young age."
I looked at him quietly.
"I live alone in this house," he continued.
"So please… don’t hesitate to do anything. Change anything you want… this house is yours too now." I nod slowly before getting off from Car.The house was decorated… just the way a new bride’s home is supposed to be.
Soft lights, small details… everything felt warm. He leaned a little closer but kept a safe distance and whispered,
"My dadi arranged all this… she told me you have to… kick this kalash before entering."
For a second, I almost smiled. Kick? It wasn’t a football.
I quietly nodded and gently pushed the kalash with my foot.The grains spilled softly across the floor as we stepped inside together.The house felt cozy… simple, yet beautiful.It didn’t feel unfamiliar… just new.But something felt strange.There was no one there to welcome us… no voices, no smiles, no rituals. The house felt quiet… almost unfamiliar.
Just then, he spoke softly,"I don’t like crowds… so there’s no one here, Vredi."He paused for a moment, then added gently,
"Are you… sad? I...I.... I’m sorry."
His voice was so soft… it didn’t feel frightening at all.For the first time, I felt something change inside me.
Was I wrong about him?
