In life there are some moments that really will define the rest of your lives. Be it finding love or following your dream or even deciding to live .....really live your life. Your way.And may be a one in a million Sally does meet a Harry when she cant wait for the rest of their life to start or may be he can't, most of us dont recognize that moment when we are living it.
From planning unseemly adventures that included running away from home carrying our little cousin's toy gun dressed in camouflage to being in the salon getting ready for her wedding to ....well her wedding, we had come a long way. Honestly not really though. We had not come a long way. We were still the same. So was our bond. And although we had this gut feeling that we chose to ignore, life had suited up to fuck up our lives for good.
We reached the salon after the last gerhi (us Indians of small town fame don't get bachelorrete night outs ) . The moment we stepped in we saw her. The bitch. Oh no you don't steal the bride's salon. But we chose to ignore her too. And then began the, usually fun but not when you are under such duress of getting married, process. It was good fun. And as the best friend I was diligent in my duty to be on the look out for bad make up choices that the crazy hair make up artist would talk you into. We selected the perfect shade of lipstick. And after the last cumbersome task of pinning in the 20 kg or so dupatta in her pretty hair she was ready. Atleast sartorially speaking. She looked stunning . And as per the movie that goes on in my head I should've been moist eyed with a single drop of tear trickling down on my cheek gracefully without smudging my mascara. But in truth I was just tense to put it mildly. I believe in the power of thought. And I was trying my best to radiate positive vibes right in that moment despite the fact that i knew for a fact that she was marrying an emotionally abusive jerk whom i had seen making her miserable for the past 4 years and abandoning her in her lowest moment. Its supposed to follow...the happiness that is. So that's exactly what I did. And I rationalized that since everything is pre destined it must be a good thing. He loves her in his own way. May be this is what love is. And she did agree to marry him of her own accord. We step out of the wooden chamber where she was getting dressed. The bill was more than the money we had. So we pooled in all the chillar that we had. Laughing. For a moment we were back in her home bunking tuitions (her parents were both working making her home a safe haven for our bunks). Smiling we stepped out . Her dress was so heavy she could barely walk. So she lifted up her lehenga upto her knees and crossed the sidewalk. Only she could look so cool, for lack of a better word, while wearing the most traditional clothes and 5 " heels.
The driver opened the door for her. It was an SUV so climbing up into it in all her taam- jhaam was a challenge in itself. She was about to get into the car when she turned. Looked at me with awfully calm eyes. And said
"Yaar main bhaag jaun kya !"
From planning unseemly adventures that included running away from home carrying our little cousin's toy gun dressed in camouflage to being in the salon getting ready for her wedding to ....well her wedding, we had come a long way. Honestly not really though. We had not come a long way. We were still the same. So was our bond. And although we had this gut feeling that we chose to ignore, life had suited up to fuck up our lives for good.
We reached the salon after the last gerhi (us Indians of small town fame don't get bachelorrete night outs ) . The moment we stepped in we saw her. The bitch. Oh no you don't steal the bride's salon. But we chose to ignore her too. And then began the, usually fun but not when you are under such duress of getting married, process. It was good fun. And as the best friend I was diligent in my duty to be on the look out for bad make up choices that the crazy hair make up artist would talk you into. We selected the perfect shade of lipstick. And after the last cumbersome task of pinning in the 20 kg or so dupatta in her pretty hair she was ready. Atleast sartorially speaking. She looked stunning . And as per the movie that goes on in my head I should've been moist eyed with a single drop of tear trickling down on my cheek gracefully without smudging my mascara. But in truth I was just tense to put it mildly. I believe in the power of thought. And I was trying my best to radiate positive vibes right in that moment despite the fact that i knew for a fact that she was marrying an emotionally abusive jerk whom i had seen making her miserable for the past 4 years and abandoning her in her lowest moment. Its supposed to follow...the happiness that is. So that's exactly what I did. And I rationalized that since everything is pre destined it must be a good thing. He loves her in his own way. May be this is what love is. And she did agree to marry him of her own accord. We step out of the wooden chamber where she was getting dressed. The bill was more than the money we had. So we pooled in all the chillar that we had. Laughing. For a moment we were back in her home bunking tuitions (her parents were both working making her home a safe haven for our bunks). Smiling we stepped out . Her dress was so heavy she could barely walk. So she lifted up her lehenga upto her knees and crossed the sidewalk. Only she could look so cool, for lack of a better word, while wearing the most traditional clothes and 5 " heels.
The driver opened the door for her. It was an SUV so climbing up into it in all her taam- jhaam was a challenge in itself. She was about to get into the car when she turned. Looked at me with awfully calm eyes. And said
"Yaar main bhaag jaun kya !"
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