Sunday, September 13, 2009

Till death do us apart

"Perfect" the maid of honour remarks, as I sway the embellished white bridal gown. She adjusts the coronet adorned with a wreath of Rosemarys and covers my face with a netted veil. She hands over a bouquet of red roses to complement my attire.

I ask the make-up artist to overdo the mascara of my eyes. I have to conceal my tears behind the shades of heavy make-up and a pretentious visage. As I breathe in the fragrance of the bunch of crimson flowers I check their colour which stands a striking contrast against the purity of my white frock.

Perfect on the outside. But I feel shattered inside. I am supposed to look high in spirits.

But I won't cry. Not today.

His words with a velvet touch flow into my memory. I shake my head to brush his thoughts aside. He is my past. I remind myself. A closed chapter.

With a sigh, I walk towards the centre aisle of the church from the dressing room.The page boy carries the train of my flowing gown escorted with the bridesmaids. At the entrance of the church I am greeted by the best man with a wedding bouquet and a kiss. The prelude of melodious music flows in. I walk towards the altar as the flower-girl spreads rose petals on the floor.

"All rise for the bride"

Every step resounds in my ears. The guests greet me, but I walk on by like a cold expressionless stone. My father smiles at me and walks arm in arm with me.

As the bridal procession towards the altar continues the minister performs the call to worship.
" We are gathered here in the sight of God and these witnesses to unite Rachel Adams and Eben Scott in holy matrimony. As followers of Jesus Christ, let us reverently remember that God has established and sanctified marriage, for the welfare and happiness of mankind.In Christ's holy name. Amen. "

I look down the the path and count the marble tiles. Anything to keep me distracted from breaking down and weeping in front of the 150 odd guests who gathered. I want to yell at the crest of my voice that I belonged to someone else. The path seemed to take forever.

But I won't cry. Not today.

As I near the stage, I do a double-take, unable to believe my eyes. A man at the farthest end among the guests attracts my attention. Praying Jesus that it shouldn't be him, I walk dilly-dallying.

My heart thumps loudly. It's him!

Who informed him about the wedding anyway? I wanted it to happen hush-hush and brisk before he would come to know of it and become heart-broken.

Why did he have to come here now?

What did he mean by gate-crashing at the event?

Didn't he know it was difficult for me already to marry a man I didn't love? It isn't easy! But I had to. I killed my heart and the love it contained for agreeing to this wedding.

He looks very pale. His eyes are not looking at me. They are penetrating through me and I feel the sharpness of his piercing glance boring through me. He seems to ask the question that I haven't dared to ask or answer myself.

The congregation is asked to seat. The ushers light the candles. The groom enters escorted by groomsmen.

" Who gives this woman to be married to this man? " Asks the priest.

" We do". Answer my parents.

Though I avert his gaze, he keeps staring at me. I pull down the veil to shield my face from his questioning glance. I feel my heart pulsating unrythmically and reverberating audibly to the priest. His look of despair haunted me throughout the wedding proceeding.

That feeling of distraught.

That feeling of helplessness.

Heartbroken. Crestfallen.

That feeling of being jilted and betrayed in love.

I search for him among the guests and take a mere glance at him just for a split second, and look down immediately, but not before catching the 1000 expressions that crossed his face all at once.

I feel a dizzy spell. My extremities feel so numb. Bucketful of emotions are consuming me and whirling me mercilessly.

This would have happened quickly and painlessly if he didn't turn up here uninvited.

Why is he making it difficult for both of us?

His eyes convey to me every word with sparkling clarity.

Come back to me this very moment. Even now it's not too late. For whose sake are you doing it anyway?

I feel like running into his arms and calling off the wedding. But I shouldn't be distracted by sheer display of emotion. I feel my world closing on me.

But I won't cry. Not today.

The priest before the statue of The holy Jesus chants the wedding vows on the The Bible.

"Eben, do you take Rachel to be your wedded wife and in the presence of these witnesses do you vow that you will do everything in your power to make your love for her a growing part of your life? Will you stand by her in sickness or in health, in poverty or in wealth, and will you shun all others and keep yourself to her alone as long as you both shall live? "

Eben looks straight into my eyes and says confidently "In the name of Jesus, I Eben Scott take you, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live. This is my solemn vow"

I don't feel myself. I don't hear a thing of the proceedings. I am so withdrawn into myself.

The priest looks at me and asks " Do you take Eben Scott as your husband?" The stern look on his face jolts me back to reality. Wondering for how long I've been a statue, I try to spill out those two words but they don't seem to come. Everyone wonders seeing my hesitation. Time and dimension freeze. After what seems like an eternity I manage to say I do, which sounds nothing more than a squeak and shows clear signs of stoical suffering though I intend it to sound confident.

Hymns are begun to be sung by the choir. The priest hands over the rings to us.

The Minister says "Father, bless these rings which the couple have set apart to be visible signs of the inward and spiritual bond which unites their hearts."

Eben says "Receive and wear this ring as a symbol of my trust, my respect and my love for you." Eben slides the ring over my trembling fingers.Everyone in the hall wait for me as I fumble for words. I finally stammer "Likewise". I look at him past the groom. He stands expressionless.

The priest says " Now that you both have given themselves to each other by the promises, I pronounce you to be husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen "

The guests clap acoustically.

I expected him to intervene. But he stood there heart broken. It's all over now. I belong to somebody else now. I can feel him exploding inside. I mangle my fingers and dig into the flesh with my nails. Despite that I can't feel the physical pain of it. But my heart weighed down with excruciating pain.

But no, I won't cry. Not today.

"You may now kiss the bride."

The groom lifts the veil and kisses first my cheeks gently. And then my lips. I can't feel a thing. Eben's kiss isn't anything like the warmth and sparkle of the passionate kiss of his. It is bland and cold. Eben senses my discomfort and lets me go.

The minister says " It is now my privilege to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Eben Scott"
The hall breaks into applause.

My eyes begin to moisten with tears.

But I won't cry. Not today.

I suppress my tears before they start to stream down. I betrayed him and that feeling claimed my conscience. I feel like a treacherous vixen with vile.The groom slides his hand along my waist and excitedly takes me to the Bridal wain decorated with red roses waiting outside. The chauffeur opens the door for me. I get inside the wagon but my eyes search and pine for his sight. Maybe the last chance ever. He meant the world to me. He protected me like a harbour in an unexpected storm when I was like a vacillating wrecked ship. He was my pillar support admist the changing scenes of life. He made me perceive a world of true beauty.

But he is my past now. I can only hold onto those abstract memories.

I roll down the window pane, silently hoping for him to come out and look my way. To my utter dismay the wagon starts off to my supposedly new home. As the chauffeur veers off into another lane, he sends me a mail on my blackberry. Even before reading it, I know what would have been typed in anger.


Why did you betray me? I expected him to curse me bitterly.

But as I read on, to my astonishment, he doesn't seem to hold anything against me.

Look forward to the bright future this man wants to give you. Bury your past below profound depths. Have a beautiful life ahead.

It's hard to let you go. But I'll try. You deserve a better man afterall. Maybe we are not meant to be together. Seems like destiny had better plans for you.

Stay happy. Keep him happy. And just remember that out there in some corner of the world a man will be happy because you are happy.

As I finish reading the letter, my eyes brim up with tears. I can't control or suppress anymore. Now, at this moment, I break down and cry. Just this very day. Eben misunderstands and relegates my tears to a bride's cold feet emotions.

Tears roll down my cheeks and pelter down on the note, wetting the paper. They smudge my pretentious make-up and heavy mascara. I wail and weep with all my heart for the injustice I did to him.

For the injustice I did to us.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Lovelorned feelings

*Purely fictional*

I fiddle with my cellphone every moment, staring bleakly at it, wishing to hear your voice.

What will you be doing now?



Playing cricket?

Are you with some other girl?

Are you thinking about me like the way I do?
I dial the number.


But everytime it starts ringing I'm unsure of it and I cut the call.

I don't know why.

But I won't back off today. It's your birthday today. I've been waiting for this day more than you could have been waiting. This day that you were born is so special to me.

My fingers tremble as I clutch the cellphone in my hand. I don't have your number in my phonebook. I deleted it. Because everytime I see your name in the contacts, I feel pangs of pain. Everytime my phone rings, I silently hope the screen flashes your name. But you always disappoint me, don't you?

I don't need to save your number anyway. I know it by-heart. Every digit of it . I'll remember it after 50 years from now also, even if it goes out of service.

As I press each digit on the number pad, my heart races. Those 9 digits which belong to your phone. Just one press of the green button and I'll be connected to you and can listen to your voice.


With each ring, my uncertainty builds up. Will you receive me well? Will I be disturbing you? I wish that you won't answer the call in the first place and save me from any embarrassment. I will be jilted if you won't bother to speak well.

1st ring...

2nd ring...





As I am about to hang up silently thanking god, I listen to your voice, sending jolts of electric tension all over me.


"Hi, What are you doing?"

"Who is this?"


" Oh yeah, you! I am fine"

"I wanted to wish you a very happy birthday. And..."

"Listen I'm very busy now. Partying and all. I'll catch you later tonight if you're awake."


And I find myself wondering, holding a dead connection.

Trying to pull away from me? That's good for you because I'm trying to get away from you too. Forget about me. I'm just one of those fools you stumble across in life. I've started to forget you. Maybe its good for me too. I really wished to have you as a lover and be with you for the rest of my life. Who cares about that now? My life is doomed anyway.

I wish I could turn back the globe to the day I met you, and undo it like it never happened. Erase that moment from the chronicles of time. If it never happened, then I wouldn't be suffering and pining for your love this way.

Or wish I could wipe you away from my memory. Let my brain become necrotic and I get liberated from your thoughts.

Like you never existed.

Like I never knew you.

Sure I would have missed all the fun in knowing a wonderful being like you. But more is the sorrow that such a wonderful being can't be mine.

I feel very sad. I feel lost. The ' what if ' feeling grips me and stifles me.

What if you could love me back?

What if you had the same feelings for me?

What if we could be together for all our lives ?

Maybe 30 years from now I'll feel silly at having loved you hopelessly though you didn't reciprocate. I might even laugh at myself and tell my grand children snippets of how obsessed I was about you and preserved everything related to you... your photos, the chocolate wrappers you threw, the spent-up pens you once used, the letters I wrote but never intended to post, your finger-prints on the screen of calculator you borrowed from me that I cherished before it got erased forever.

Maybe I would curse myself later in life about loving a man who didn't tad bother to look at my way more than thrice throughout my school life.

May be I'll be with some other man 30 years from now.

But who knows...?... that other man could be yourself.

Yeah, here's the damned romantic facet in me, hoping against hopes, against all odds that I am living to see the light of the day, somewhere in the not too distant future, when we would be together.

Even if we are not together, I'll fantasy about you. You will be the man of my dreams. Atleast you can't claim yourself from my fantasies.

In my dreams, we would be soul-mates and you'll love me more than I could love you back. That much that if I asked you how much you love me, you would stretch your hands wide to cover the unending sky implying that your love for me is infinite, eternal, selfless and unconditional.

I can only hope for that, shouldn't I?

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