WILD WEST OF THE HEART

F I F T E E N

There was always something poetic about freedom.

It was what teenagers wanted the most, that they grow up and finally get to live. Get to be free. But what exactly did they want to be free from?

Freedom means many things to many people.

Being independent, without constraints. It's being your own person in such a world, a final breath of fresh air. Freedom is the oxygen of the soul. And it's beyond just a state of mind. We look at freedom and we see a lifestyle. We see happiness.

There was something poetic about it. Freedom.

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Aaliyah Faruq sucked air into her lungs in a way that created allowance in her corset. She believed it was too tight but her mother convinced her it was just about the right size.

Besides, it wasn't meant to free on top of the lavender gown she wore. If there was anything she hated besides getting married today, it was this gown that was seemingly passed down the Faruq women train, from her great grandmother to her grandmother, to Khadijat, her mother.

And now, eighteen and a half years old, it was her own turn to wear the feeble dress. It had just come in from the tailor yesterday but she could only do so little. It was an elaborate lavender dress with pearls along it's neck and sides. The dress dropped far below her ankles to the ground.

But above her waist, it wasn't that much of an eyesore, you could see the effects of the corset, plumping her sides into definite shape.

She exhaled after a while, turning around. She'd been standing in front of mirror for close to an hour, she couldn't tell though because there was always something in her mind.

And each time, she just couldn't fathom the fact that today was that one day in her life that she would yes to a man for a lifetime.

She couldn't grasp the concept of it all.

Having to solemnly vow to love someone for the rest of your life. It was an absurd thought to her, but luckily she didn't have to grasp anything.

Her parents did all the work.

You see when Aal was thirteen, she already knew who her husband was to be. This rich family next to them, and a friend to her father had a son that was just entering law school at that time. He was approaching his twenties when she was thirteen.

And now, after five years the whole process was complete. The Pennukaanal and Nischayam were only rounded up a few days. She'd met the man, Ravi, who grew up to be a respectable lawyer.

She knew that, because of how highly everyone spoke of him. But the problem really wasn't him.

It was the fact that she was in love with another person, Jamie, who had gone to her secondary school. And though they still talked, she grieved for the future they wouldn't get to have. For not knowing the possibilities of what could have been.

Here she was, about to swear to love a man who knew nothing about her, except what her parents told him. They didn't know her, they didn't know who she was now. They didn't see past that thirteen year old that was frizzled at the thought of a fancy marriage to a fancy man. A fancy life.

But now she had evolved.

And she knew life was far more than that. It was why she wanted to go to university, maybe have some time to make decisions. To make plans with Jamie. But it wasn't possible, because of Khadijat.

Actually, it was because of tradition. The infamous islamic marital practice that haunted every girl.

Afraid to ruin her make up with her tears, she pushed a lump down her throat. Her neck was bare because her mother hated necklaces. But she had a ring around her nose, and around her ears.