The Man I Hardly Knew.

Chapter one.

Today is my wedding.

"Hurry up Rose." Mum shouts while closing the door behind her. The slam of the door accompanied by its cracks gets me on my nerves. A crude and raw chord circulates in my belly in a mutiny condition. In a nervous state, i bite my nails, calculating. 

I do not reply. Eye balls secured on the reflection in the mirror, I do not move. I stay intact. I stare at myself instead. I let my eyes stroll themselves over this reflection.

I have been adorned in one of the most gorgeous wedding lehenga made of pure silk with ivy buds of pure gold. My earrings hanging on shine bright and arrogantly in the light, giving valour to their golden color. My hands have been heavily filled with weighty sets of indian bracelets. Our ancestors call them customary bracelets. It is a tradition in our family that each bride should wear those same ornaments preserved from generations to generations on their D-Day. And today, it is my turn.

My hair has been carefully plaited, intertwining my tresses into a serpentile tail with shiny beads adorning their shades. My eyes have been sharpened with Lakme eyeliner, ready to yawl at anyone who catches their gaze. My lips have been curiously painted prim red with even darker shade of lip gloss giving it a shiny effect. The sparkling golden head chain embellishes my empty forehead into royalty making me a complete indian bride. My designer heels tops the look acting pricey to the outfit. Anyone who comes in my room and sees me only stays stunned and says: "Oh doll. As beautiful as a doll."

My wedding has been fixed with one of the richest man here, in Delhi. My marriage will be conducted in the most costly wedding spot today. Famous personalities have been invited. Famous designers and make up artists have dressed me up on my grand day. This wedding is costing Billions of dollars and will soon feature as the cover of multiple magazines on the upcoming future days. Reporters have accumulated at the gate, struggling for a chance to get inside and capture at least a glimpse of the marriage ceremonies for viral live captures.

Perfect. Isn't it? Looks like the dream of every girl?

But... I ain't happy...

Something looks amiss. Something seems incomplete. And this heavy red veil pinned to my hair seems to claw my head. They aren't just heavy. They are asphyxiating me. All sorts of thoughts are invading me. They talk to me. They seem to rebuke me. Or even Scare me.

Is this the right choice? Is he really the one for me? Will he be able to keep me as happy as my dad did ever since i came into this world? Is this the right time to get married? Will marriage make me even happier? Will i be able to shoulder the responsibility of being a married woman? Will i be able to be the indian woman they are looking for?

What is wrong with me? Today is my wedding. How can i even have such thoughts?
But things sped up so fast that i didn't even have the time to understand what was going on. How can you blame me for having such thoughts? My name is Rose Mathilda and I do not have the slightest idea about what's going on in this wedding. All the customs and traditions are foreign and apprehensive to me. Just a few moments ago, my mum came and explained to me about how an indian wedding goes on. After all, you cannot expect someone who has lived her entire life in the Europe with a British dad to be familiar with all these. 

But this woman, who i call mum is actually my step mum. After mum's death when i was eight, dad decided to get married again. Living life alone and on his own with a daughter to cater for seemed difficult to him. And in those days, dad met mum Anita. An indian woman- Mum Anita: Someone who cares and is strict about her customs and traditions; Someone who provided us with a community to whom we find ourselves related to now. Before she walked into our life, dad and I didn't really belong to a specific religion. We just didn't feel the need to. Partying used to be my daily night episode and probably the most awaited part when the sun sneaks out of its concealed veils in the morning. My friends? They weren't just friends. They were my entire family. There were days when i wouldn't even come back home during our girls' night out and it was no inconvenience to my dad. It has always been his philosophy that life should be lived to the fullest, to crisp and eat all the fruits of life.. something which in his words are: Carpe Diem.