Chapter 6: The Sacred Union

                                    

                                          
Saanvi sat before the vanity, her reflection staring back at her. Her dark green saree shimmered in the soft light, the golden peacock and floral embroidery catching her gaze as if reminding her of the dream she had carried since her teenage years. This saree, this moment-she had once imagined it as the culmination of happiness, but now, the weight of reality bore down on her.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the necklace first. It was heavy, ornate, and intricate, with a centerpiece that seemed to glow in the dim room. She placed it around her neck, the cool metal kissing her skin and settling with an almost oppressive weight. She fumbled with the clasp, her breathing uneven, and had to pause to steady herself. Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath before trying again, this time fastening it securely.
She picked up the earrings next, their golden filigree dangling delicately in her hands. Sliding them into place, she felt their gentle pull, a reminder of the layers of tradition she was about to embrace. Then came the bangles-rows of them, glinting pink and gold. She slipped them on slowly, one by one, each clink reverberating in the quiet room. Her wrists felt full, weighed down, the sound of the glass and gold almost taunting her.
Her hands paused as she reached for the final piece of jewelry: a pair of anklets. Her heart clenched at the thought of what they symbolized-a bride's first steps into her new life. Sliding them over her feet, she stared at the soft glint of the metal against her skin. The final touch. She lifted her gaze to the mirror, taking in the transformation.
The woman staring back looked like a bride-adorned in gold and green, but she didn't feel like herself. She reached out, touching the mirror's surface as if to bridge the gap between her reflection and her reality.
"This is what I wanted, this..." she thought. 
"A dark green saree for my wedding... marrying the love of my life. In my favourite color saree. But not like this. Not with these eyes watching me." Her throat tightened, her breath catching. 
Yet, despite the complicated emotions in her heart, there was something about the moment that still felt sacred, like a dream wrapped in layers of reality she wasn't ready to unravel. she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her lips curved into a bittersweet smile, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Her cousin entered, sensing her hesitation. 
"Saanvi, let me help with your hair," she said gently. 
She gathered Saanvi's hair into a low bun, securing it with delicate pins. Fresh pink and white flowers were tucked in neatly, adding a touch of softness to the otherwise heavy look. Her cousin adjusted the maang tika on her forehead, stepping back to admire her. "You're perfect," she said.
Saanvi's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Perfect," she repeated, the word tasting strange in her mouth.
Before she could gather her thoughts, her brother appeared at the door, his voice steady yet kind. 
"Di, it's time to go."
Saanvi stood, her hands clenching the folds of her saree as she walked out of the room. 
As Saanvi descended the stairs, each step deliberate, every rustle of her saree amplified in the stillness. The moment her golden anklets chimed against the marble floor, all eyes turned toward her. 
Each step felt heavier than the last. She descended the stairs, the judgmental eyes of guests piercing through her like daggers. The disappointment etched on her father's face and the anger simmering in her mother's eyes clutched her heart tightly.Their disapproval was almost palpable, pulling at her resolve. The weight of their judgment pressed down on her like a second layer of jewelry.