JURIAN
"Don't you guys need to say 'I do'?" Jurian whispered to Alizeh over the droning sound of the priest chanting mantras. The flames in the fire pit in front of them, crackled to life as the priest threw some powders in it. They had used some artificial wood to light a fire.
"Oh no!" Alizeh grabbed his hand with force. Her eyes grew wild and unfocused. Jurian could see a wild panic behind those carefully done up lashes.
"The fire," he breathed. Alizeh hadn't coped well with seeing fire ever since she had been almost burnt alive at the basement.
"I'm sorry. You don't have to do it," his hands moved deliberately to the side of her face as he gently turned her face towards him.
The big tasselled earrings jingled from the impact. She raised her hands at the same time to cause the bells attached to her bangles to jingle too. He took her little dimpled hands, tracing the outline of the henna patterns on her almond skin. Thin brown scars ran crisscross over the mehndi designs.
He gently rubbed her cold palms to warm them. They had wanted to celebrate their marriage in a traditional Indian style and so all the décor was in keeping with the Indian culture. After all that what happened and almost losing her, Jurian would've agreed to get married anywhere— even the moon. She was the focus around which his world seemed to revolve.
"I can do it. I can't run away from the past forever," she closed her eyes with a pained look.
Alizeh was one brave lady. She had fought through multiple plastic surgeries, grafts, and the pain from burns, scars and surgery corrections. The past year had been a hectic to and fro through the clouds for the best medical attention. Jurian had never seen her so fragile or vulnerable. But she had survived through it all and he wanted to lose no chance to make her exclusively his.
Thus on one such opportune day, at a vintage bookstore, he had hidden a ring in the pages of some dusty book. The books had been taken out of the secret dingy lockers after the new amendment in the law. Her eyes had shone when she had found her entire world in that little niche. The books had smelled like freedom to Jurian too. It was fun with her shifting through old books and finding that little jewel. He had proposed to ger then and kissed away the unbidden tears.
His hands travelled along the gossamer red veil, embroidered with gold borders, his fingers curling around some stray locks. Her breath hitched as she seemed to be overwhelmed by the touch.
"You're stronger than you think," he whispered. She nodded.
"I'm ready," she turned back to the flames again. The priest had almost finished the ceremony as they had drowned out the world in their little personal moment.
The garlands were exchanged. The jewellery jingled with each step as she swished behind him, taking their vows, which she had called 'pheras'. Her long lehenga trailed out behind her like a shimmering cascade of soft red velvet.
"Why seven?" he mumbled into her ears.
"The seven circles around the eternal flame are supposed to bind us for seven lives together," she murmured. There was an undertone of fatigue. The operations and the visits to the doctor had taken a toll on her. She got tired easily.
"Seven thousand lives aren't enough to ravish you, lady," he lifted her up on his arms. She almost fell from his lap in surprise. The crowd of friends and family, from all clouds, cheered as she clung onto to him for four more rounds.
The people had come to their wedding from all around. Alizeh had become the hero of Cloud Nine and people treated her like a celebrity.
And amidst the sound of bells and the chatter of lots of guests, they bound themselves in the promises of a lifetime.
As the evening rolled into a peaceful night, the sky decorated itself with chains of twinkling stars. As per tradition, he carried her in his super strong arms, over the threshold, closed the doors and deposited her in front of the mirror.
"Help me open these up," she whispered. Desire and longing flashed through her bottomless brown eyes. Jurian noticed for the first time that her eyes weren't just brown. They had layers of golden and black all adding highlights to the chocolaty sea.
He deftly worked through the million little hairpins and freed her hair from the knot and the veil. The short locks cascaded down as he gently ran a finger down her neck, sliding apart the curtain of hair and planted a kiss. Goosebumps rose on the exposed skin. He chuckled and proceeded to unclasp her necklace which fell on her dress with a slight clink.
His hands moved to the ties holding her blouse together.
"Don't," her eyes had become panicky again.
"Why?" he asked, concerned. Did he hurt her?
"I look ugly. The scars. They..." big fat tears ran down her cheek as the rest of her words were lost into the silence.
He turned her face towards him and gently lifted her chin, searching her eyes, "I've seen and nursed those scars for a whole year. Maybe I love you more with those perfect imperfections of yours."
Gratitude shone in those eyes as fresh tears sprang up. She sniffed and wiped them away, her face red with the rush of emotions. He gave a tug at the one string holding her blouse together and eased the sleeves down from her arms. The hair on his own skin now rose up in anticipation.
"Red lace underwear," he guffawed.
"You horny man," she teased.
In response, he just unhooked her bra. She screamed and launched herself at him, throwing off his traditional turban and worked her way through the buttons of his 'sherwani'.
"Damn these buttons," she murmured as he laughed and took it off himself. His vest joined the pile of their clothes. She untied her heavy skirt and let it pool around her ankles as she stepped out of her wedding dress.
"What the fuck," he tugged at the knot on his pyjama but it was stuck. She bit her lips and laughed at the sight of her naked, and him struggling to open his pyjama. She dropped to the ground before him, with a meaningful look and proceeded to deftly untie the entangled threads. He could feel her hands deliberately roam around his parts as she pretended to open them.
With a low growl, he snatched her up from the ground and deposited her on the bed. The soft pink and white petals flew in all directions at the impact.
"Beast!" she teased him, licking her lips invitingly, and he didn't bother to open his pants any more as he ripped off the last bits of his bottom wear with his immense strength.
"Don't break our wedding bed," she rolled her eyes as he jumped in.
"Let's see who breaks the bed today, shall we?" he smirked, as he dived in on her soft skin, kissing every inch of space available. If the scars brushed against him, rough and hard, he didn't seem to mind. Her once gorgeous and flawless skin was now a crisscross of her marks of courage. He kissed her along the scars. She tipped back her head and lost herself as she clung to his neck.
The world had a strange ways of uniting people and also taking them away. Somewhere in some other world, Arya was gazing at the stars and crying for her sister and for Mr Gear, who had been more than just a colleague for her. Nina and Ash were groaning in sleep, still wrapped around each other as Miyoko snuggled closer to Aileana somewhere in the sea of bliss.
Somewhere out there, Jace was getting drunk with Cynthia as they talked about life. Derek was perched daintily on the railings of his balcony, dreaming with open eyes, the camera aimed at the sky. Nothing would stop for the ones lost in the race against time.
People would move, lives would change and generations would stride forward with each tick of the clock. Fates would change as destinies rewrite themselves. The circle of existence will go on and on and lose itself in the oblivion.
The clouds would float over the warm earth, moving towards a future that would still be uncertain for humanity and the life on earth itself. We might not have discovered what lies beyond death or what existed before life and yet life would go on without caring for the ones that survive or the ones that end.