Natyam | A Mahabharata Fiction

9.

"WHAT?"

"Ayy, Maa! I will go deaf, please!" Nihaar groaned, rubbing his ear.

Maa rolled her eyes before looking at me. She grabbed my hands, lurching me forward. "Beta," she spoke silently, "are you absolutely sure?"

I smiled. "Don't w—"

"Marriage is hard," she interrupted me and began pacing, "but you seem to like this fellow, so I suppose it will be all right. Are you sure you even want to get married? A week ago, you were harping over being single for the rest of your life, now what has changed?" She looked away. "Bah, you stupid girl. This whole situation is so confusing."

"He asked me and I said yes! How is that confusing, Maa?"

My mother hushed me. "It is confusing because a prince just doesn't propose to a princess like that! It is supposed to be flowery, romantic and passionate!"

I hid a smile. To me, it had seemed romantic and passionate enough but I didn't say a word. I watched as my mother, very unceremoniously, plopped herself onto a cushion in front of me once more.

She looked at the floor, smiling softly as if she recalling something from her own youth. "When your father asked for my hand, he came on an elephant with an entire pageant of gifts and riches and enough jewellery to last me a lifetime. He had brought the dancers to dance along as he rode into our palace. There was colour and glitter and magic everywhere. Ahh! And then he asked your Nana-Nani for my hand and promised to love me forever. It was so romantic." She sighed dreamily. Nihaar shook his head as our mother continued dreaming. Within seconds, her lips twisted into a frown and the displeasure spread across her face. "And what does your fellow do? Take you for a walk in a field and simply asks you out of the blue! Who does that?"

I scowled as well. "Will you please stop calling Arjun 'fellow'?"

"Why shouldn't she? He will be your fellow after all!" Papa's jubilant voice exclaimed. Maharaj Vrikant rushed to his wife first, enveloping her in a gentle hug before promptly kissing her forehead.

"Papa, please! Some propriety!" Nihaar groaned, shutting his eyes. It was my turn to shake my head. My brother was still a child...

Papa let go of Maa and beamed at me, embracing me. "Oh, child, I am so happy!" He whispered excitedly. "Wonderful choice! I am sure he will keep you very happy." My father's grip tightened around me.

I buried my nose in his shoulder, inhaling the soft aroma of his perfume. It was in that moment that I realised that I was going to get married. Married. I remember my heart accelerating and caving in on itself simultaneously. I was going to live away from my family. The family that I loved so much. So I sank into Papa's embrace, hoping to remember every movement of his, how he smelled and how he smiled. Everything.

When we pulled away, his eyes were slightly red.

"Do not cry, Vrikant. She'll be fine!" Maa exclaimed, rushing to his side.

"But she will not be home anymore. She will not sleep in her rooms anymore. My girl will not greet me first thing in the morning anymore!" He shot back, engulfing Maa in a hug.

A pair of fingers reached out to my own.

Nihaar stood beside me, my pillar of strength and resilience. Together, we watched our parents comfort each other.

A maid interrupted the moment.

"Maharaj, Angaraj Karna wishes for your audience."

"Send him in."