Love Amidst The Chaos

18| Mehendi Ki Raat

•Esha•

This morning was a rush. I barely got time to eat my breakfast before I was dragged out of my suite on the arrival of our designers. The dress for tonight's function is a gift from Vidyut's grandfather for both of us, from a famous designer based in Mumbai. The other two dresses for tomorrow are from a sophisticated designer, Ayraah Nastaar. A designer based in Himachal Pradesh who's best known for her masterpiece bridal designs she creates collaborating with the local craftsmen in each state. Getting in touch with her was kind of an uphill task, but finally she'd accommodated us, given to some business ties both my future husband and father has with her family business.

Throughout these days we've managed to customize the bridal wear on calls and video chats, she's just a brilliant mind with fusion and ideas. Today the piece was finally ready and she had flown over here with it. I had tired out both the dresses and it fit me like a second skin, both beautiful and dreamy, just like I've wished for it to be. Vidyut's was no less, even though I didn't get to see it on him, I knew that was going to look too good on him.

Talking about whom, I've seen him literally once throughout the whole day and that was during our dance rehearsal.

Yes, we are having a choreographed couple dance. It's not just us who danced, because it seems like Mahajan household brims with art and especially dancers and artists. Vidyut is trained in salsa, I had no doubt about that after having already danced with him. But knowing Aditya is a trained classical dancer and the other two are into instruments came as a surprise to me. Having two classical dancers among us, Aditya and Nayantara, they've themselves joined hands for a pair performance tonight. Both of them seem to have pretty much in common which is kind of interesting.

But it wasn't going to work, I know.

Later in the evening before I came back to my room to get ready when the make-up artist arrived, I encountered Vidyut once again out in the corridors. He'd smiled at me in assurance, mostly sensing my nervousness and gently clutched my fingers without sharing a word. But that small gesture filled in a lot of courage and calmness in me.

The get ready with me session, unlike usual, lasted for three straight hours after which I was robbed by the photographers and my best friend for solo pictures.

Finally after hours of hard work, running errands and patience, I, adorned in beautifully crafted, maroon and mustard, multicolored velvet lehenga, embroidered with bird motifs, accentuated with zardosi and beads everywhere possible- making it heavy as hell to even breath- sit gleefully on the cushioned antique couch that's reserved for the bride, that's basically me.

Yeah.

Both my hands and feet are forwarded towards the woman sitting at my sides, applying mehndi on them. We've gone for Rajasthani designs, which will possibly reach till my elbows on hands and three inches up my heels for foot. A little extreme, I know. But come on! You'd don't get to complain or even comment on that. I'm getting married!

And it's my first time, and I hope it's the last too. One, I don't want to have a repeat telecast of all this, I'm already done wearing the heavy lehengas. Two, I fucking as hell want things to go well between us. I don't think I can bear any other outcomes with him, I'm a little too deep in there.

Even though I love most of the things, silent and private in my life, my marriage is not one of them and the live example is in front of me.

Watching my brother-in-laws, my dad, daddu and Nayatara dance lazily in God knows what form all I feel is sheer joy. I've loved people, especially when they are happy because of me. And when it's my people happy because of me, just with a function, I'm literally over the moon.