Description
Each step, each round of the holy fire, led Meera and Shreyansh into a life they never expected, never planned, and never even imagined. Once strangers with separate paths, their lives were now intricately tangled, bound by fate's unpredictable design. "Now, fill the partition with vermillion on the bride's head," the priest announced. Shreyansh pinched some vermillion between his fingers. As an elderly lady unveiled Meera, Shreyansh's gaze fell upon her tear-streaked face. Her eyes remained tightly shut, as if shielding herself from the harsh reality unfolding around her. With a heavy heart, Shreyansh filled her partition with the sacred red powder, some of it falling onto the bridge of her nose. "Aaj se aap dono pati patni hai, vivaah sampurn hua," the priest proclaimed, declaring them husband and wife. A wedding is supposed to be a joyous celebration, a sacred union filled with love and affection, the beginning of two lives intertwined in harmony. Yet, their wedding felt like a solemn ceremony devoid of joy. No music, no laughter, no celebration. Shreyansh stood up from the mandap and walked away, leaving Meera sitting there, still covered by her veil. Her fingers fidgeted with a pendant, the name "Vikram" etched into it. A fresh wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks as she caressed the initial of Vikram's name. Unable to hold back her anguish, she whispered his name, "Vikram," before her body gave in to the overwhelming emotions and she fell unconscious.
â– Dedicationâ–
