Description
As I gaze at myself, I see a bride, a symbol of tradition and expectation. But beneath the surface, I'm a girl who's lost her voice, her choices, her freedom. The mirror reflects a stranger, a version of myself I've never known. I think about the man I'll soon marry, a stranger I'll live with. Will he accept me? Or he was forced too? Will he console me? Will he give me the love I've craved till now? Will he accept my profession?. The thought feels like a distant reality, one I'm powerless to change. My eyes, once bright with dreams, now seem dull, resigned to the fate that's been chosen for me. I take a deep breath, the scent of rose petals and perfume filling my senses. I'm ready to play the role expected of me, to wear the mask of a happy bride. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I stand before the mirror, adjusting my sherwani, the weight of my mother's expectations heavy on my shoulders. I've always been clear: marriage wasn't for me. But life has a way of steamrolling over desires, and here I am, about to tie the knot with a girl whom I've only meet twice. My mind wanders to the woman who's been chosen for me. What is she like? Does she share my passions, my values? Or will this be a union of convenience, a sacrifice to family honor? I think about the conversations we'll have, the silences we'll endure, the compromises we'll make. As I look at my reflection, I see a man trapped in a situation he never wanted. My eyes seem tired, my smile forced. I wonder if I'll ever find happiness in this arranged union or if it'll be a lifelong compromise.
Author's note
