Never marry the one you can live with, marry the one you can't live without.

ANANYA

Kavya Bhabhi looked nothing short of breathtaking in her maroon and gold lehenga, the intricate embroidery shimmering under the lights. Her jewelry, heavy and ornate, complemented her delicate features perfectly, and her makeup was flawless. It wasn't just her attire that made her glow; it was the way Shravan Bhai gazed at her with such intensity and affection. He, too, cut a striking figure in his richly embroidered sherwani, every inch the dashing groom. Their eyes met, and Kavya Bhabhi blushed deeply, her cheeks turning the color of rose petals. Watching them, I couldn't help but smile—they were the epitome of a perfect couple, their chemistry evident in the way they looked at each other, completely lost in their own world.

As she approached the stage, Shravan Bhai extended his hand to help her ascend. The crowd erupted in applause as they exchanged garlands, the photographer busily capturing every precious moment. The air was thick with celebration, guests rushing forward to congratulate the newlyweds, their faces alight with joy.

Despite the festivity around me, I found myself growing restless. I nudged my brother, asking him to take some pictures of me and Georgia. It seemed like a simple enough task, but I had clearly overestimated his photography skills. His angles were all wrong—shots that were supposed to be flattering ended up awkward, with heads cut off or weird lighting making us look like ghosts. After what felt like thirty minutes of painstaking explanation, he finally managed to capture a few decent photos. I scrolled through them, satisfied for the moment.

As I was reviewing the photos, I suddenly felt a tingle run down my spine, the unmistakable sensation of being watched. I looked up, and my heart skipped a beat—Aakash was staring at me, his gaze intense and unwavering. Dressed in a green and white sherwani, he looked unbelievably handsome, almost too perfect to be real. My breath caught when I realized we were matching, both of us in shades of green. A small, shy smile crept onto my face, and I noticed that he smiled back, just the slightest curve of his lips, but enough to make my pulse race.

Before I could dwell too long on Aakash’s piercing gaze, Georgia grabbed my hand and practically dragged me away. "Ananya, come on! Let's try some Indian dishes," she exclaimed, her excitement contagious. I followed her, grateful for the distraction. Georgia was like a kid in a candy store, her eyes wide with delight as she sampled dish after dish. Her enthusiasm was endearing, and I couldn’t help but laugh when the spice of a particularly fiery curry made her eyes water. But even that didn’t slow her down—she was determined to taste everything.

Just as I was getting comfortable and enjoying myself, Mom called me over to help with something. Duty calls, I thought, as I followed her to arrange the pooja thali. The wedding was about to begin, and there were still a few last-minute preparations to be done. I was carefully arranging the items on the thali when I sensed someone sit down beside me. I turned my head, and there he was—Aakash, his mesmerizing blue eyes locking onto mine.

"Need any help?" he asked, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down my spine.

For a moment, I was too stunned to respond. I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to keep my composure. "No, I’m almost done," I managed to say, though my voice sounded far more breathless than I intended.

"You look beautiful in this lehenga, by the way," Aakash added, his tone warm and sincere, making my cheeks flush a deep crimson.

"...Thanks," I replied softly, my heart thudding in my chest. I met his gaze again, and my breath hitched. The intensity in his eyes, the way he looked at me—it was like he could see right through me, past all the walls I had built, straight into my soul.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but at that precise moment, Mom called for me. I jumped to my feet, almost too quickly, and mumbled an excuse before hurrying away. My heart was still racing, and I silently thanked the universe for the interruption—who knows how much more I would have embarrassed myself if we had kept talking.

The wedding ceremony started shortly after, and I quickly found myself bored out of my mind. The priest chanted mantras in a rhythmic drone, words I didn't understand, and I had to stifle a yawn every few minutes. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, Bhai appeared beside me, a small cup of coffee in his hand. He offered it with a grin, and I accepted it gratefully.

Thank goodness Bhai brought that coffee, or I would have drifted off right there in the middle of the ceremony. He handed me the cup with a knowing smile. "Ananya, finish your coffee quickly. We need to head home. Mom wants us back to help with the preparations for some post-wedding ceremonies," he reminded me.

He was right. There was still so much to do, and sitting around wasn’t going to get anything done. I nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave the monotonous mantras behind. The thought of being productive and helping with the preparations was far more appealing than staying seated here, fighting off sleep.

Once we got home, I immediately got to work. In Indian culture, the post-wedding rituals are just as important as the wedding itself, and the first of these is the griha pravesh—the bride’s ceremonial entry into her new home. It’s a moment steeped in tradition, where the mother-in-law welcomes the bride and groom with a tilak, a mark of blessing on their foreheads. The bride then gently tips over a kalash (a pot filled to the brim with rice) with her right foot, symbolizing prosperity and the arrival of Goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, into the household.

After this, she steps into a dish filled with alta (a red dye) and leaves behind red footprints as she walks into her new home. These footprints are more than just marks on the floor—they’re symbolic of the bride bringing prosperity and happiness into her new family.

It’s a beautiful ritual, but also a daunting one for the bride. She’s stepping into a new life, surrounded by new faces, with new responsibilities weighing heavily on her shoulders. To ease this transition and to help her feel more comfortable, there are a series of post-wedding games that follow the griha pravesh. These games are meant to break the ice, to inject some fun and laughter into what can otherwise be an overwhelming experience.

Even though times have changed and most couples know each other well before marriage, these traditional games are still practiced. They’ve shifted from being a way to help newlyweds get to know each other better to being a light-hearted, fun tradition that everyone looks forward to after the emotional bidaai (farewell) ceremony.

Each family has its own set of post-wedding games, but one of the most common and beloved ones involves finding a ring hidden in a bowl filled with water, milk, and rose petals. The bride and groom are pitted against each other in a friendly competition to see who can find the ring first. The games are meant to be playful and fun, but they also carry a deeper meaning—traditionally, it’s said that whoever finds the ring first will have the upper hand in the marriage!

As I prepared for these rituals and set up everything for the griha pravesh, I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of all the fun we were about to have. The ceremony might be steeped in centuries of tradition, but the games that followed would bring everyone together, filling the house with laughter and joy as we celebrated this new chapter in my brother’s life.

After a few hours, the bride and groom finally arrived for the griha pravesh ceremony. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as they stepped over the threshold, Kavya bhabhi nudging the rice-filled kalash with her right foot and leaving delicate red footprints behind her. The rituals were performed with heartfelt prayers and smiles all around. Once the griha pravesh was complete, it was time for the traditional games.

Everyone gathered around eagerly as Shravan Bhai and Kavya Bhabhi prepared to play the game of finding the ring in a bowl of milk and rose petals. Laughter echoed through the room as they plunged their hands into the bowl, searching through the cool liquid with playful determination. It didn’t take long before Kavya Bhabhi triumphantly held up the ring, a victorious smile lighting up her face. Everyone cheered, and Bhai shook his head with a good-natured grin, clearly impressed by his new wife’s quick reflexes.

With the ceremony and games wrapped up, it was time for Kavya Bhabhi to be led to her new room—Shravan Bhai’s room, now theirs to share. As the doors closed behind her, all the cousins, including me, gathered outside the room, our anticipation building. This was the moment we’d been waiting for—the time-honored tradition of barring the groom from entering his own room until he offered us some generous gifts.

When we saw Shravan Bhai approaching, I couldn’t help but grin mischievously. "We’re not letting you in until you give us what we want," I declared, my voice full of playful determination.

Bhai stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. "And what if I don’t?" he asked, his tone equally teasing.

I crossed my arms, determined to play my part well. "Then you’ll be sleeping outside your room tonight," I shot back, giggling along with the other cousins as we watched his expression change from teasing to mock horror.

"Alright, alright," he relented, shaking his head with a sigh. "What do you want?"

I pretended to think for a moment before declaring, "Nothing much, just 10 lakhs. Which, for you, shouldn’t be too hard to manage." I smiled sweetly, knowing full well that this was all part of the fun.

Bhai chuckled and reached into his pocket, pulling out his sleek black card. "I don’t have that much cash on me right now, so here’s my black card. Take as much money as you want, but please, let me go inside. I’m exhausted."

We all burst out laughing at his eagerness, and I decided to push my luck a little further. "Oh, so you’re tired?" I said, raising an eyebrow mischievously. "But I doubt you’ll get much sleep tonight," I teased, watching his eyes widen in realization.

Before he could respond, I bolted down the hallway, my laughter echoing behind me as I dashed to the safety of my room. Once inside, I locked the door, still giggling at Bhai’s flustered expression. The night had been full of joy and teasing, and now I was ready to let sleep take over.

I quickly changed out of my lehenga and into something more comfortable. As soon as my head hit the pillow, the day’s events replayed in my mind, and a smile tugged at my lips. But sleep was relentless, and within moments, I was out, my dreams filled with the laughter and love of the day.