Sitting before the mirror on her wedding day, adorned with the red bridal attire, Zoya, Delhi's one of the most renowned Gynecologist couldn't feign the absurd heaviness in her chest, as if something awful was going to happen. And the little hopeful...
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I am still staring at her, as she is praying. Joining her hands and closing her eyes while the veil of her saree rests on her forehead. I wonder what she is praying for so sincerely.
My dear Zoya prepared every of my special food today. She made my favorite mango custard, especially for me. I don't have to pray for anything else when I have her, the best thing that has happened to me. Oh goodness, how beautiful she looks in the red saree. She looks like I've just seen heaven, as if I have realized what poetry is.
She was divine.
I wait another five minutes before Zoya opens her eyes and completes her praying. She takes the prasadfrom pandit ji and hails down before the idols of Shiva and Shakti. I've never seen her pray for something so sincerely. She doesn't even realize that I'm standing here, waiting for her. I had made the promise to be with her in every moment of her life, together.
Zoya startles when she turns around and finds me standing outside the temple. "What are you doing here?" she frowns holding the prasad in her hands. I didn't even know what she was saying, and I am busy admiring how her face is glowing in the sunlight. I am smiling at her blankly without even blinking. She doesn't ask why I am smiling. She must be thinking I'm a fool, and keeps staring at me.
"Give me your hand." she says looking at me. I frowned at her, but then noticed the kalawa in her hand. I looked at her and parted my lips to speak but she fills my mouth with the prasad. I stare at her without blinking while she ties the kalawa around my wrist. "Everyone left then why were you still here?" I couldn't reply because my mouth was stuffed with the giant laddu. I kept staring at her and she tightened the knot so the kalawa could not untie easily.
When she was done, she smiles at me, and I swear I feel my stomach twist as butterflies danced across my body. "You were waiting for me?" she looks at me while smiling and pulls the laddu from my mouth. I inhaled a proper breathe as soon as the giant laddu was pulled out. She laughs softly and break it into small parts. "Zoya you—
I turn around but she stuffs my mouth with the laddu again, but this time I could chew. She touches the prasad to her forehead and then eats it, "Prasad baant ke khaya jaata hai, patidev." she smiles at me. As if I was the one who stuffed a whole giant laddu in my mouth.
I look at the kalawa tied in my wrist and smiled. "What did you pray for?" I ask as we started walking down the stairs of the temple. Three thousand steps, I want to scoop her in my arms and do the same ritual again, I don't really care if she is wiping my sweat with her saree and smiling at me, as if she is in love with me. I don't care if that brings me close to her. If that proves my love for her, I'd carry her in my arms for my life and I don't really care.
Zoya smiles admiring the view. "We didn't take any picture here, Nischay." The weird thing was that Zoya was not so photogenic. She always tried to avoid whenever we'd take pictures. I could guess she was trying to avoid the question. We've just climbed fifty steps. She was walking too fast. It's adorable when she puts efforts for me. I feel blessed. But when she tries to avoid me, it feels like—I don't want to feel that way.
