Unveiled vow

Chapter 2

I thought he was a devil. He is so, so, so irritating. And why on earth, can I not talk to him the way I boldly throw tantrums at the rest of the world? And is it always necessary for him to add that sarcastic crap to everything? My gaze fell upon my mother who was looking at me in amazement. I was lucky enough that my side of the conversation had been too quiet to be heard by anyone else, and as soon as our eyes met I smiled at her, hiding all my emotions. I trusted my mother and I know she tried her best for me with this, but at that moment, I had no faith at that moment, I had no faith that her choice had been the right one.

“Mumma, you can't do this to me,” I complained and she gave me a confused look. “Why is he so mean?”

She laughed, “No, sweetie, he's not. Why do you say that?”

“Because he irritates me. From the very first time I spoke to him, he just ridicules me for everything I say.”

“You mean like how Apoorv does? Always teasing you for something?”

I wasn't satisfied with that.

"Mumma, Apoorv is different. He’s my friend, my school friend precisely. We’ve known each other for years. He can do that."

"And Arnav’s going to be your husband, how do you want him to talk to you? Should he be all serious and scare you even more? At least he’s trying to make you relax."

I raised my eyebrows and my eyebrows and was blown apart with the amount of justification my own mother was producing for her future son-in-law, as if she were his mother and not mine. I knew at that point that it was futile to complain to her.

"Kriti, see, he’s the best groom and—"

"Kriti, see, he’s the best groom and has the best family we’ve found for you in the last two years. This family is far better than any of the other proposals. We’ve researched them all, and I’m sure that you’ll be treated like a real princess in that house. They have everything, and Arnav...he’s a gem who’ll complement my golden daughter perfectly. Just trust me and try to brush off these doubts of yours."

I nodded looking into her eyes as I shook off the memories. We were married today in a traditional ceremony and here I was busy with a trail of thoughts. My eyes fell upon a cute, yellow flower pot on the nightstand and it pulled me back to the present. There was a large cupboard on the left side of the room. Beside the cupboard were my three suitcases. They had everything I owned in them.

Everything I was allowed to take into my new life. On the front wall, to the right, there was a door. Probably the washroom. I wasn’t sure and I couldn’t dig up enough enthusiasm to care. I was already scared by what my cousin who got married last year in the same arranged way, had told me about her first night. Although, she knew her husband a little bit and had been going on dates with him since the day her marriage was fixed. I felt strange. My family had given me plenty of lessons on how I should behave on the first night, but all that did nothing to quell my nerves.

Actually, I always panic about small things, however, this was something way too big for me to process and I decided I was allowed to panic at this moment. I’m still confused about whether marrying him was the right decision or not. It's not like it was actually my decision though. It was my mother's decision. I just did things according to my parent’s wishes. They asked me for formal consent in the beginning, but I wasn’t in a position to reject Arnav when my parents seemed to like when my parents seemed to like him and his family so much. I don't know if I wanted to marry him or not. I think a mother’s decision, though, cannot be wrong for her daughter.

Not only can I barely even speak to my husband, but he doesn’t seem to like me all that much either. A knock at the door shoved me back into this new room. This new house. This new life I still wanted nothing to do with.

“Aa jaaiye,” I called out to whoever was knocking to give them permission to come in.

I stood up from the bed as the door was unlatched and my husband walked in

As Arnav advanced into the room, he looked at me for a second with a deeply concerned expression.

“You’re still awake. You haven't slept yet? Aren't you feeling comfortable? Do you need something?” His gaze kept wandering around the whole room but he seemed genuinely concerned about me.

“No. I'm okay,” I tugged nervously at the hem of my dupatta. “I was waiting for you.” An awkwardness had grown between us. I looked around the room, searching for something to insert into the uncomfortable silence.

“Actually...um...this room is quite nice.”

He managed a gentle little smile and took out his phone from his pocket. “I'm tired. I'm feeling sleepy.” He pointed to the door I hadn’t explored yet. “That's the washroom. You can get ready for bed.”

I stood frozen with fear. Was he asking me to change? Did he expect me to do all that a wife does for her husband? My blood went cold as ice and my breath seemed to stop. My eyes felt heavy and at the age of twenty-five I was dreading his touch as if I was fifteen and he was a molester. It couldn't happen this way. I couldn't just make out with someone I didn't know. I don't care if I am married to the man I didn't know anything about him

No, I needed more time. I know this is what people do on their first night together as husband and wife. I have seen the movies and stuff. But I can't. We don't have to do it like everyone else. We could make it a regular night. A normal one. We should just share the room and leave some privacy for each other. We can just get to know each other a little.

I looked down at the embroidery of my lehenga and then at the floor, anywhere that I didn’t have to see his face. Arnav read the tension in me, the sweat beading on my face.

“Should I turn up the air conditioning? I think you’re feeling too warm,” he said, concerned.

What did he want? Picking up all the courage I could, hoping to judge his intentions, I stared directly into his eyes and what I saw there was unexpected. Arnav, this confident, aggravating man, was just as unnerved as I was. He, too, had droplets of sweat shimmering over the skin of his face. He refused to hold my gaze for more than a few seconds. As soon as our eyes met, he darted away. I was surprised. I couldn't imagine someone like him, someone so infuriating, could be so shy. I could guess how awkward he must be feeling just now. Sharing his room with someone he'd basically never met before. And more than the room, he was going to share the rest of his life with that person. He took a few steps back when I denied with a shake of my head.

I moved toward the suitcases and, while unzipping the largest one, changed the topic. "Arnav ji, could you please arrange another cupboard here? I do have to keep all my things somewhere.” I kept digging for the nightgowns I had bought during all the wedding shopping. I was only allowed to bring gowns with robes with me though Mumma thought my shorts and skirts would be inappropriate after I got married. I was supposed to confine my outfits to the traditional style. “My stuff can’t stay in these suitcases.” I opened the second one and dug out my red, satin nightgown.

“Kriti ji, that cupboard is half-cleared out for you! Have a look,” he said as he tore his gaze from his phone. “How many clothes do you have?” He seemed amazed as he looked at my stuff.

When I unlatched the cabinet, more than half was empty. Sure, it had enough space to keep my clothes in there, but a girl’s got shoes to think about.

“But the sandals! Where will the sandals go?” my inner fashion-freak panicked.

He threw his hands in the air. “How would I know?”

“You should know,” my tone deadpanned. “If you don’t, then who would? It’s your room na.”

“Yes...but...” he shook his head, “okay...just give me a list tomorrow and I’ll get you whatever you need.” He stared at me for a moment as if I was incomprehensible. “Now go change. Aren’t you uncomfortable with all that jewelry? Or do you plan on sleeping in that dress?”

“What? No…” I declared. Immediately irritated at being teased.

He interrupted me before I could come up with anything else. “Then go. Please.”

At least I was angrier than scared now. But I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering to what he thought would be happening that night. We had hardly spent any night. We had hardly spent any time together. How could he expect me to get naked in front of him? I was getting goosebumps at the mere thought of him getting close to me. Things like these take time, we hadn’t even talked at all.

I know, culturally, things are meant to be like that but I hoped Arnav wouldn’t be a staunch follower of the culture. I wondered how other women must feel on the first night of an arranged marriage. Many women are just like me, they don’t know the man they’re marrying. Are all men like this? Just pouncing upon the body of a woman once they get the notion that they own it? Shouldn’t we have a voice and opinion on the matter? Don’t they know we’re not objects designed to please them? My face paled as the fear returned. I grabbed my phone and all but ran to the washroom. I locked the door and sat on one end of the bathtub. The washroom was huge with white tiles on the floor, a nice washbasin, and a big bathtub.

I started pacing, trying to think of what to do now. I furiously tapped out a message to my best friend.

Kriti: Akansha, I'm terrified. I don't know what to do. OMG help!

Akansha: What happened? Calm down? What are you scared of?

What do you think is happening, woman? My heart was beating fast, and I was sure my husband would knock on the door any second.

Kriti: My husband!!! What does he want?! He has repeatedly asked me to change! Why? Why is he so concerned?! About everything! What is he expecting? I can’t get physically intimate with him like this. CAN’T!

I waited for that little green bubble to pop up as my life depended on it.

Akansha: Are you crazy? Calm down, Kriti. Nothing is going to happen. He’s not gonna do anything.

Kriti: But what does he want?! How do you know nothing will happen!?

I added some screaming emojis for dramatic effect.

Akansha: Kriti, you are an actual mental patient.

Kriti: Shut up and help me!

When she replied, it was clear Akansha was a waste of my time and a terrible friend.