A loud applaud greeted her in the picture. Every head in attendance at the venue turned towards her, and it didn’t look like any one of them would turn back any sooner. Yes, she was(is) that beautiful. Mesmerized by her own splendor, she was smiling exquisitely, and as it always had been, I fell in love with her. Many years had passed by, but to me, she was still the most beautiful woman on this planet. She was an angel. She was my Angel. For a moment, I ignored the people around us, and I merely looked at her. She was indeed the most beautiful woman in this entire world. Her eyes veiled amid the puffy eyelids of hers had something enticing in them that could make me keep looking into her eyes forever. When she smiled, her eyes concealed themselves from the world outside, possibly hiding the shimmer they contained. I, all the time, used to tell her that her eyes were the best feature on her face, and she used to wink at me in response. Beauty was how she always felt inside, which resonated in her eyes. That night her eyes spoke a billion words. Her eyes were beautiful. “Damn, her eyes!” I said to myself.
“Brother, I am happy for you! Finally, you are marrying the girl you have been in love with for years.” my best friend said, patting subtly on my back. Perhaps I was the happiest man alive at that moment. She was walking down the aisle, and the pace of my heartbeat was harmonized with her slow steps. She walked so gracefully that even Eos (goddess of the dawn) would have been envious of her. She wore an enviable dress, and her outfit complimented her. She looked beautiful. Her hair lay open and covered one side of her shoulders, letting her face a good view from the other side. My eyes went further down to her unquestionably flawless waist. I remember when she was concerned about her waist and complained to me that it was oversized, and I would always tell her that it was just impeccable. I told her the truth. I was always tempted to hold her by her waist while we kissed, and if I would forget doing that, she was the one to drag my hands up to her waist. I loved holding her waist, and she loved me back for that. And today, a part of her smile was for what she used to desire.
The entire banquet was romanced along with the tunes of the songs being played. It was possibly one of the finest collections of romantic songs. Every piece was somehow linked to our story and fanned the flames of our moments. Beautiful moments.
My father was standing next to me. He was looking at me with a smile on his face. I could sense that he had been observing me looking at her for quite a while now. I smiled back at him. “Your eyes look happy tonight.” He said to me. He raised his hands and rested them on my shoulder. In soft words, he said something beautiful, “Your bride looks beautiful today, and I can see that in your eyes. I have never talked to you about the feeling of love in particular, and today I think I don’t even need to. The way you look at her tells me a lot about what you apprehend of love. What you have for her contained in your eyes is a love of a different kind that can only be imagined in fairy tales. I just want to tell you that I am happy for you, son.” I could see the reflection of happiness in his wet eyes. My lips further widened into a more giant smile.
She had the face of her mother and the eyes of her father. In both of them, I could always see a part of her. Her mother clutched her hands tight, and as she climbed up on the rostrum, her hair swayed from one direction to another, which obliged her to adjust them to avoid landing them on her face. And to be honest, a girl maneuvering her hair at any hour of the day can make you feel weak in the knees. Especially if the girl is the one you are already in love with. There she was, standing right in front of me in the bridal dress, looking more beautiful than ever. She was about three feet away from me, and I could still scent the fragrance of her, which was as intoxicating as it always had been. With every breath I took, I could feel her fragrance sweep into me and remind me of the moments she had held herself close to me. I could see glimpses of all of those splendiferous moments in my head when we used to hold each other as if the next moment would be the moment of our separation. It was no less than magic. Her hair rested beautifully on her shoulders and covered her bosom further down. The black of her hair went well with the red of her blouse. Her face glowed, and a light touch of makeup complimented her. She never used to put up even the basic makeup, yet she always had me speechless just because she was herself. She was a simple girl on the outside, but she was a blend of surprises on the inside.
She looked at me with a smile, and my heart skipped a beat. I looked back at her right into the eye. They were beautiful. She looked at me for a few couples of seconds and then lowered her eyelids. For those few seconds, I felt as if we were not amidst everyone else but somewhere alone in a land of magic and love. She did this to me every time she looked at me. Flashes from the cameras were blinding me. I looked around. Everyone was busy. Her father was busy looking at her, probably figuring out when her little girl turned into a beautiful woman eligible to marry a man she loved. I could see a fatherly love and care in his eyes for her baby girl. Her mother was busy adjusting her daughter’s hair and dress at a gap of certain intervals. She held her daughter’s hand in hers. She probably wanted her daughter to be the most beautiful bride ever, and if she was to ask me, I would have told her that her daughter was indeed the most beautiful bride ever. I wish I could. Her younger sister was busy cracking mildly funny jokes and calling her weird names. She pinched her elder sister and told her to look at me. I knew she had noticed me constantly gaping at my bride.
Apart from her younger sister, one more person noticed me look at my future wife. She was standing a foot away from me yet so close to my heart. It was my younger sister. She had known her and me as us for a long time. She always admired me as a partner to a girl, and today she was busy smiling to see me marrying the lady I have been in love with for almost a decade. She winked at me. I smiled. My mother was busy adjusting her hand into the gap near my elbow joint. She was proud, and I could feel that by her touch. I looked at the lady who had given me birth and loved me the most. She was smiling. My father was busy wiping off the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. I don’t know what was going on inside his head, but he must have been thrilled seeing all of it happen. I felt an emotional choke in my throat, and everything I looked at; blurred. My eyes teared up.
A part of me was delighted to see everything happening around me. Our parents, relatives, and friends were all gathered to celebrate the day of our marriage. Everyone had a smile on their face. The golden light from the chandelier hung above us, lit her face as a dewdrop would shine in the light of dawn. I could hear ladies from the gathering around us talking about how beautiful my angel looked and how lucky I was to have her in my life. Everything happening around me, with or without any reason, was beautiful. The ceremony of Jaimala was about to start, so all our close relatives whose presence was vital to us and who were not anywhere near were being hunted. The worst thing about marriages is the wait the couple has to endure, and it eventually is the best thing as well. The situations you face on your wedding day are for the first and the last time ever. The realization of being a bachelor for the last time, and after that being attached to a person for the rest of your life. The feeling of looking at your lover who would eventually be tying a knot with you. The feeling of having your friends and relatives look at you and her as a couple. The feeling of walking around the fire seven times with the one you love. It all felt good.
I felt a hand slide into my hand very smoothly and then grip my hand firmly. I turned my head to see who it was. It was my future sister-in-law, the younger sister of the lady I would marry in a couple of hours. She was about thirteen years younger and was really sweet. A wide smile on her face was a delight to look at. “She is beautiful. Isn’t she?” she asked me in a voice as soft as the meadows during the morning. I blushed. “Yes, she is!” I replied. “But not more than you, dear.” I appended a sentence to my reply.
“Oh, come on, jiju! She looks absolutely spectacular, and anyone in this world, including me, can’t steal her thunder tonight. And moreover, I know that she is the most beautiful woman in this world for you. I have been observing you looking at her since she has arrived, and all I can see in your eyes is an immeasurable amount of love for didi. I am glad that she has found her soulmate in you.” She said. I looked at her and felt infinitely delighted to hear what she had just said. She rescued her hands from mine and fled away the next moment to stand next to her sister before I could gather my senses and talk back to her. She winked at me, and I could only pass a smile.
Our parents handed over the garlands made out of flowers for the Jaimala ceremony. I felt a positive wave travel down my spine. I looked at her. She was looking at me and smiling. I could see in her eyes that she was euphoric about the night. There was a sparkle in her eyes whenever she was happy. I always wondered how I could possibly fall in love with the same girl over and over again, and the only answer I could fathom was - her. I fell in love with her repeatedly because it was her. I was frozen with the moment, holding the garland in my hands, not realizing what was happening around me, and was looking at her smile - and in her smile, I could see something more beautiful than the stars. “Hey! Where are you lost…?” I heard a voice from behind me.
“Hey! Where are you lost…?” I heard a voice from behind me. “The couple is done with the Jaimala ceremony!” I listened to the same voice. I was looking at a deep red-colored liquid. I was staring at the wine glass I held in my right hand. It was full. Where did the garland go? Where did she go? Before any more questions popped up in my head, I looked towards the ceremonial stage. There she was in the same dress. And beside her was sitting a guy while I was far away from her standing amidst the crowd. Both of them had a garland hanging down their necks. He was her man. She was smiling, and she looked happy. And come on, who wouldn’t be pleased on the day of their marriage. A frown appeared on my face. “Are you okay?” her best friend asked me, who eventually was a friend of mine as well. I looked at her as she adjusted her spectacles and raised her eyebrows, probably demanding a response from me. I did not say a single word. “And by the way, I am glad you could attend the wedding. I know it’s tough for you, but I am happy you could make it.” She said, flashing a big smile.
“Yes, I am okay!” I replied. She looked at me without uttering a word, and I turned around. Tears flooded my eyes, and I could feel a certain kind of excruciating pain in my chest. I felt wretched. She held me by my shoulders, and before I could wipe off my tears, she turned me around. She looked at me and then looked all the way across the guests towards the girl I loved, who was sitting by the side of the man she was marrying. After a few eternities, she looked back at me and asked, “You still love her?”.
And the only reply I could give her was, “…more than anyone can ever imagine!”
