Mannat

[2]

It was difficult, but I managed to make Mr. Jindal reveal the name of the groom. He is a billionaire and the upcoming CEO of the Singhania group of companies. I decided to do some digging and gather some information about him before I get married to him.

After one hour of browsing through the internet in search of articles, I could only find one month old articles about Ajay Singhania's announcement of his son taking over the company. There was no other information available. I also texted Zahir, Zara's brother to do some digging because he is good at work like this.

After spending nearly a week doing research on Avyan Singhania, I stumbled upon an article that hinted he might have harmed a classmate in school. It caught my attention because it was the only negative thing I could find about him online. Negative news tends to spread quickly, so it seemed odd that there wasn't more. Intrigued, I reached out to the journalist who wrote the article about two weeks ago.

As I was calling the journalist, I accidentally refreshed the page, and the article vanished. My screen showed "Error 404." Surprised, I searched for "Avyan Singhania scandal" again, but this time, all I found were new articles about him getting married. It was strange how quickly the focus shifted. The journalist picked up the call and a hoarse voice greeted me from the other side.

"Hi! Mr. Praveen Kumar ?" I asked, to confirm the identity. The journalists replied affirmatively, confirming his identity.

"I won't take a lot of your time, but I just wanted to know if there's any information about Avyan Singhania's 2013 news?" I asked, hesitantly. He immediately hung up on me and when I tried to call again, I realised that he had blocked my number. There is definitely something fishy about the 2013 news and this marriage. The disappearance of those articles and the sudden flooding of marriage articles is weird. I convinced myself to not pay much attention to a decade old news and should focus on my present.

The doorbell rang, and I opened the door to find a delivery person holding a large carton, almost the size of an aquarium. The identity slip bore my name, so I signed and took the parcel. Curious, I decided to open it right away. Inside was a stunning bright red wedding lehenga, crafted by none other than Sabyasachi. It looked incredibly expensive. I assumed it was sent by my soon-to-be in-laws. As a bride, one would expect me to be excited about wearing my wedding lehenga for the first time, but instead, I find myself dreading the idea of entering into this likely ill-fated marriage.

I unpacked the lehenga and tried on the blouse to check the fitting. I stood in front of my mirror. I slipped the blouse on and stood before the mirror, gazing at my reflection. The lehenga looked enchanting, adorned in radiant red hues. Yet, in the depths of my heart, I couldn't shake the feeling that this color symbolized anything but joy.

I longed for a reality where I wasn't bound to wed a stranger in exchange for wealth. It's a barter, they say, but it feels more like I'm traded as a commodity, devoid of choice or voice.

Days flew by, and before I knew it, it was December 27th. I found myself adorned in that stunning red lehenga. My "family" decided to skip all the other ceremonies and go straight to the wedding. I didn't mind much, as this whole thing held no real significance for me. Perhaps this marriage would bring a slightly better life, and once the debt was settled, maybe my brothers would have a chance at a better life too.

As the makeup artist applied the final touches, painting my lips in a bold shade of red, I couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation settle over me. Amidst the chatter of guests and the melodies of music filling the air, I found myself in an immense venue, large enough to accommodate half of Delhi's population. After some rituals with the groom, I was summoned outside. Cousins assisted me with the lehenga as we made our way to the Mandap. With a calm, almost blank expression, I gazed at Avyan, who mirrored my stoicism. It was clear that neither of us desired anything more than to get through this ceremony and return home.