Priya sat still as her family members finished adorning her in bridal wear.  She opted for a deep maroon lehenga influenced by the Mughal style.  It had long, transparent sleeves, and the blouse was long and asymmetric.  Priya preferred the more conservative design over the traditional midriff bearing blouse.  The skirt was so long it touched the floor.  Every part of her outfit was heavily embroidered in intricate and elaborate designs.  Her lehenga was slightly more glamorous than she intended, but Priya knew that anything less would be unacceptable at her high profile wedding. 

            Priya watched as her sister and her cousins giggled while gossiping about some of the guests that were expected.  She glanced at herself in the mirror.  Heavily made up, wearing expensive and extravagant jewelry, dressed in an elaborate outfit, Priya did not feel like herself.  She preferred simplicity, but simplicity just didn’t seem like a part of Aman’s world.  His life seemed exotic in a way.  He lived in hustling and bustling New York City in America.  Priya was sure he’s seen his fair share of excitement in his life and enjoyed an extravagant lifestyle complete with all the bells and whistles.  Such a life was foreign to her. 

            There was a light knock on the door.  The amiable giggling suddenly ceased as all the girls’ heads turned towards the door.  Payal stood up and answered it.  Priya’s mother emerged draped in a dark blue sari.  A wide smile was spread across her face, but her eyes were sad. 

            “Priya! My daughter! You are so beautiful.” She said as she made her way across the room to Priya.  She grabbed both her henna covered hands and squeezed them affectionately. 

            “Ma…I,” Priya hesitated.  She eyed the girls standing behind her mother.  They were secretly listening in. 

            “Girls I need to speak with Priya before she gets married.  Alone.” Priya’s mother announced.  Payal ushered the girls out of the room before closing the doors, giving Priya and their mother some much needed privacy. 

            “Ma,” Priya started again. 

            “Priya, I know you are worried.” Her mother interrupted.  “It’s a natural feeling, to be happy and sad at the same time.  Happy you are starting a new life, but sad that you must leave your old life behind.  Every bride feels this way.” Her mother comforted her. 

            “I don’t know how I feel.” Admitted Priya quietly.

            “Do not worry, Priya.” Her mother soothed her. 

            “Ma, what is it like to be married? Is it that much different from life before marriage?” asked Priya. 

            “Being married is a different type of feeling.  You have a new sense of duty towards your husband.  You have so many more responsibilities.  The real change occurs once you fall in love.” Her mother replied.  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

            “Love? Ma, we don’t love each other. We don’t even know each other.” Priya said.  She looked down, saddened at the thought of a loveless marriage. 

            “Priya, you may not love each other now, but you will one day.  You will learn to love each other…one day.” Her mother replied.  With this, she stood up and walked towards the door.  She quietly exited, leaving Priya to dwell in her thoughts. 

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            Aman adjusted his turban, his fingers fumbling as he struggled to pull himself together.  He was completely out of it.  Participating in last night’s festivities had inhibited his ability to obtain a full night’s rest.  He felt tired and slight hung over.  He looked in the mirror, looking over himself one last time before heading off to his wedding venue.  He wore a cream colored sherwani with intricate designs splashed down the chest and slightly simpler designs found throughout.  He wore a maroon ascot that matched the hue of the designs even though the rest of his outfit was closer to blood red.  He smirked at his appearance.  He didn’t look half bad.  He smiled once more at his reflection before sauntering out of his room. 

            He met his father halfway down the hallway.  His father stopped him and turned to face him.  He gently placed his hand on Aman’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. 

            “Aman, today you will make be proud.  By agreeing to this union, you are proving that you truly are my son.” Aman’s father beamed as his patted Aman’s back.

            Aman stayed quiet.  His father began walking down the hall, moving his arm around Aman’s shoulder.  They walked in silence until they reach the stairs.  Aman’s father stopped and turned to face Aman once again. 

            “My son, I must tell you.  Married life…is different.  It is something you will love at times and something you will loathe.  You must improve yourself for the sake of your wife.  Control your wayward behavior,” he paused, “Or at least do a damn good job of hiding it.”

            Aman chuckled.  His father was one to give him advice on being faithful to his wife.  He continued to walk down the stairs, choosing not to reply to his father’s advice. 

            Soon everyone reached the wedding hall.  Aman gaped in awe at the lavishness of the wedding.  There were bright and colorful decorations throughout.  Strings of marigold hung off the wide columns that supported the structure.  Luxurious fountains were installed in the front lawn.  Lights were strewn just about any place they could fit.  Aman felt proud that this was his wedding.

            He and the rest of his baraat (wedding party) walked inside.  Before setting foot inside, they all were greeted by Priya’s parents and family members.  Aman looked at the smiling faces of his future family members.  He took a deep breath as he stepped forward. 

There was no going back now. 

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            Aman and Priya’s wedding had been the talk of the town.  All of Mumbai’s elite had been in attendance.  For everyone else, their wedding was an extravagant event, a never ending party filled with fun and excitement.  For Aman and Priya, their wedding was the beginning of a lifelong burden that they would be forced to carry for the rest of their lives.  Even if they somehow lived in harmony, they would always remember that their relationship was nothing but a business deal. 

            Everything went by quickly.  Aman and Priya obliged to every ceremony that was expected of them.  Aman cringed as he watched Priya tearfully bid goodbye to her family.  He felt that he was to blame for Priya’s tears.  After all, he was the one who was taking her thousands of miles away to New York. 

            Immediately after the wedding, Aman and Priya boarded an airplane heading for New York City.  Priya waved at her mother, father, and Payal, who had come with them to the airport.  Priya hadn’t said a word to her father.  She wished to properly say goodbye to him, but couldn’t muster enough courage to even approach him.  Aman had shared a short goodbye with his father, who chose not to see the couple off at the airport, at the wedding hall. 

            Priya sat down in the window seat next to Aman.  She turned herself away from him and focused on the scenery outside the window.  She fixed her gaze at view outside.  She was leaving her beloved country, a country she had loved all her life.  She would miss India.  She would miss her family.  She would miss her old life.  The plane began to move.  Priya continued to stare out the window until the landscape of India became too distant to see anymore.  Once Priya’s vision was filled with white, fluffy clouds floating about, she pushed the shade down obstructing the view of the clouds.  She sat back in her seat and sighed. 

            Aman watched her the entire time.  His heart sank as she pushed the shade down over the window.  She was leaving the country she knew and love forever because of him.  She was forced to leave everything and everyone behind because of him. 

Yay! They’re married!! I was going to add a scene with them actually in New York, arriving at Aman’s house, but I got really tired.  Check out Priya’s wedding outfit! That is my dream wedding dress! ;)

About all this negativity surrounding my story because it’s similar to another story, I just want to say that this story is going to take such a turn that you will be shocked. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  You will hate Aman, just sayin’.  Just because the situation is similar in both stories doesn’t mean my story should be criticized! I respect the other author and would never rip off her work!  

COMMENT and tell me how what you thought of the chapter.  VOTE as well!!