Then, it happened…I was to be married. The life that you had shown me was suddenly nonexistent; as if the moon had been unstitched from the very night of hope. Awakening that morning surrounded by a floral breeze and white porcelain teacups, I could see myself admitting to the cultural hesitation that I once was so good at avoiding.
Being a middle-class family member, I encouraged my personality to shine in Ammi’s reception lehenga (bridal skirt and top) because I knew I wanted to keep her close. The words myself, I, me and being suddenly all reflected a woman I had never thought envisioning. Everyone around me was here to criticize, a glimpse of struggle or discomfort, a constant inquire about why I chose to marry this late. All I can think of is my happiness, underlined with threads of resham with Ammi's smile. Thank you Ammi for letting me love myself first.
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