The Wedding Day
The entire house of Subhadra Devi, senior collector in one of the district in Andhra Pradesh, India and aunt of Arjun, was buzzing with excitement. Decorated with mango leaf festoons and colorful floral mandaps, it looked like a palace echoing with joy, relatives, and rituals.
Inside, the family priest rushed in, slightly anxious. Approaching Subhadra, who was busy directing helpers:
> “Madam, it’s time. Is the bride ready yet?”
With a smile, Subhadra replied calmly,
> “I’ll check. Please have some coffee, Panditji. Raju, bring him a cup.”
She ascended the stairs briskly and opened the door to Priya’s room—only to find her daughter still curled up in bed under a blanket. Irritated, she stormed in and pulled open the window curtains.
> “Priya! It’s time to make you a bride. Wake up!”
No response.
Annoyed, she walked over and yanked the blanket.
> “It’s getting late! How can you sleep like this on your wedding day?”
Priya groaned,
> “I’ll get up, mom… just let me rest for a bit…”
Subhadra, half-angry and half-nervous, said firmly,
> “We’re already running late. Get ready quickly.”
Sitting up lazily, still drowsy, Priya muttered,
> “I’ll get ready, sure. But first, confirm—is the groom even coming? Your dear nephew?”
Subhadra gave her a sharp look.
Priya gave a crooked smile,
> “Seriously… When I’m hurt, you stay silent. But the moment someone says a word against him, you react like fire!”
Subhadra sighed, sat beside her daughter, and gently caressed her cheek.
> “You chose to marry him because you love him. I’ll be honest—I don’t support this marriage. If things go wrong between you both after marriage… the one who’ll be hurt the most is me. Because to me, you both are the same.”
Hearing that, Priya curled up beside her mother, resting her head on her lap.
> “We'll be fine, right? Mom."
Subhadra continued stroking her hair gently.
> “I can’t predict your future. But if you love someone unconditionally, he will eventually love you back. That much, I believe.”
She didn’t want to confuse Priya any further, so she stood up.
> “Now stop thinking too much. It’s time. Get ready.”
> “Alright, I’ll get ready and come,” Priya said softly.
Subhadra kissed her daughter’s forehead with a smile and walked out. Priya got up slowly, pulled out a saree and towel from the cupboard, and walked into the washroom, shutting the door behind her.
---
Same Mandap, Different Fate
The same grand Indra Bhavan wedding hall, where Arjun’s wedding had collapsed two years ago, was once again lit up in splendor—this time, for what seemed like a destined reunion.
The hall buzzed with relatives, rituals, and luxury. Expensive lights sparkled on every corner. Arjun sat on the wedding dais in elegant white traditional attire, performing rituals with a serious expression. Beside him stood Kausalya, watching him with pride.
The sounds of Sannai Melam (traditional shehnai music) filled the venue, drowning every whisper in divine melodies.
Outside, Anand Rao walked swiftly, whispering something in Ashok’s ear while subtly pointing toward a direction. Though the music overpowered their words, Ashok nodded and rushed off.
Inside, Anand Rao was welcoming guests with graceful smiles. Subhadra stood near the dais, beaming with joy as she looked at Arjun.
> “Please bring the bride,” Panditji announced.
Subhadra, excited, hurried upstairs to fetch Priya.
Moments later, Priya appeared like a celestial goddess, walking gracefully in her dazzling bridal saree and glowing jewelry, reflecting the soft lights.
She sat beside Arjun. The two began performing the rituals.
And yet—neither joy nor excitement was visible on their faces. No sign of new beginnings. Just silence.
As Panditji chanted mantras and handed the mangalsutra to Arjun, he hesitated. He bent down, held it near Priya’s neck—and froze.
Priya closed her eyes tightly, nervous and emotional.
The guests watched, breath held.
A few seconds of complete stillness.
And then…
Arjun tied the knot.
The crowd sighed in relief, showering blessings and flower petals. A sense of closure—or a new beginning?
Under a rain of turmeric rice and flower petals, Priya and Arjun bowed to the elders, their expressions unreadable.
What lies ahead in their marriage?
Will love truly bloom… or does the silence hide deeper truths?
We’ll find out in the coming episodes…
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With love,
Surya Bandaru...
