The Bond | The Scribbled Writings

It was not an ordinary morning for her. It was special, that resounded with a timid dimple on her right cheek. Call it a life-changing day for her. She wasn’t eager, but just like every other girl, that day was significant of all. After all, she was officially meeting a man of her dreams – the man whom her parents handpicked for an arranged marriage with her consent. From a thousand proposals, considering her likes, her qualifications, they agreed on a date for that meeting.

The day of the meet was not less than a marriage ceremony. Everyone woke up before the rooster’s early morning crow. She was awake, she looked sleepy-eyed, possibly the thoughts of him didn’t allow her to have a good sleep. However, lethargy was just for a temporary visitor. Her callused feet were filled with excitement and joy, timidity ran through her veins, her eyes gleamed whenever they met with her family members, giving her sudden jerks of enthusiasm. She quickly got herself refreshed. The virgin rays of the sun fell on her wet wheatish skin making them glitter like gold. She strolled carefully, her wet feet kissing the floor, leaving her foot marks towards her room. With baby steps, she reached her room and stared at herself in the gigantic mirror from the top to the bottom. Slowly drifting the fingers over her shoulders, she wiped the tiny droplets of water. The water droplets held her skin as if they were yearning to stay there. The shapeless dewdrops from her wet tresses tickled her shoulders, as they slid down her nape.

“He would fall for you, the moment he has his eyes on you!” she said winking at herself. Gently settling her hair over the shoulder, she dusted herself with the fragrance of Gokul Sandalwood powder. (If you are from the 1990s then you know that every South Indian Tamilian had this powder with them). It was a traditional powder that every mother used to hand over to her daughter. Lips tightly pressed, she made sure that it was uniformly spread. A dab of Kohl was comely applied on her huge curly eyelashes. They dazzled making her eyes alluring. After her make-up, she flickered her eyes on the mirror displaying the beauty of her eyes.

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Now it was the saree that took the centre stage. She draped herself with the beautiful Kanchipuram Pattu Podava (Kanchipuram bordered saree) that her father gifted. Taking her time draping and making the plates for her saree, keeping it equidistant from the first bend, she wasn’t as dexterous as her mother wearing a saree. After her fruitful efforts, she gently pinned it up near her waist. After watching herself in front of the mirror, she was so lost in the beauty of herself that even her mother’s call couldn’t break her away from the thoughts.

By the time she dressed up, there was a knock on the door. The bridegroom arrived with his family. A white veshti draped around his waist, ran all the way down to his ankle, the golden bordered shined brightly more than the sun’s rays. With a sky blue colored shirt and a vibuti (sacred ash), a sign of holiness on his temple, made him look gentle and warm. After a brief chat of the families, it was her time to show up. She felt nervous. Her throat dried and she hardly could move her feet. Her mother with her strong yet reliable arms escorted her to the hall and introduced her daughter to the other family. She served the freshly brewed filter kaapi (filter coffee) to both the families.

To him, her fragrance was surpassing the aroma of the coffee. As she neared the bridegroom, she held the tray strong enough not to wobble. While serving the coffee, she stole a sight of his pretty face. He was so lost in her alluring eyes that he touched her tiny fingers as he held the coffee tumbler. She hitched at his contact, a jolt of a shivering cold ran across her body, and quickly quivered with a smile on her face. Her long plated hair wiggled as she walked back. Taking cover behind one of the round circular pillars of her house, she was eavesdropping the conversation between both the parties. However, the eyes were still playing peekaboo between both the souls. 

The bridegroom was really happy meeting her. He shook his head in agreement with a grim and delight on the corner of his lips for the marriage. The plates full of fruits were exchanged that marked the bond of relationship between both the families. Each other gave a warm hug on the token of an embryonic relationship. Congratulating each other, the bridegroom caught sight of the bride. Their eyes met each other, he winked at her. She blushed and they spoke a thousand words in that fraction of a second. This is just a start. An onset of a new bond that will last for ages unbroken, nurtured till the last breath.

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10 Comments Add yours

  1. You have got excellent flare for writing to be honest I read that post upto sandal wood powder but impressed . Wrote really well.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sonya Kassam says:

    Oh how beautiful a story 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow.. that was a spellbinding tale… love the details in the story! You have a way with words.. keeps one gripped…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Aww…. Thanks a ton again…. your words are my inspiration.

      Like

  4. I’m officially your fan now! How delicately you have described the tiny little details so beautifully. Being a south indian myself this piece made me laugh and smile 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ohh.. I’m glad you liked it…. Yeahhh…

      Liked by 1 person

    2. We have that South Indian bond that brings that laughter and smile

      Liked by 1 person

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