The Arranged Marriage

2

I have always been a girl who dresses up in denims and crop tops. Now, I am forced to wear saree. I love wearing traditional attires like Anarkali and half-saree but saree? Nah. It requires skills and patience. I woke up early just to spend 5 hours for dressing and make-up. Apparently, I have to impress my husband.

"Why do you wear these heavily ornamented clothes?" He asks me.

He doesn't seem to show a liking towards these type of clothes, probably because he grew up abroad.

"You call her a girl? Look at her! Sleeping till 12 and waking up only for lunch. Now, she doesn't even want to eat lunch!!" my mom would be shocked to know that I wake early now a days.

"With this anger, she is going to have a hard future. A lady should be calm and collected. You should make your husband calm, not the other way."

It isn't easy growing up as an NRI in India. Being constantly judged and discriminated. Thankfully, I have a love towards cleaning and cooking.

"What is this food you cook? Chicken Fajita? Cook Indian cuisine, girl. Your husband doesn't want these!"

"Why is your room a mess? Look at the undone laundry, Oh God. Look at your girl." My mom complains to my dad.

Life does take a complete change after marriage, whether it is for good or bad? Destiny decides. It gives us a lot of problems, tests and responsibilities.

Now, my life after marriage was...roasting. Unlike the romantic life I expected. We just roast each other and he doesn't talk much. Despite our dynamic, we somehow agreed on Switzerland for our honeymoon. It's ironic, really; who needs a honeymoon when every day feels like a sparring match?

"Can you bring me a glass of water?" he asks lazily.

"Are your legs okay?" I reply with mock concern.

"Eh, yeah. Blind much?" he retorts, rolling his eyes.

"Then why don't you get yourself a glass of water?" I retort, narrowing my eyes.

"Geez, Women. Should I complain to my mom?" he teases, trying to sound threatening. I can't help but chuckle.

"Should I complain to your mom?" I shoot back, cockily. He looks momentarily confused.

Right on cue, his mom breezes into the living room, carrying a bouquet of jasmine flowers for me. I grin triumphantly, knowing I've won this round of banter.

"Mom-"

"Aunty" I start fake crying. She looks really worried. Poor women, She is old.

"What happened, dear?" She drops the flowers on ground and comes running to me.

"What happened? Tell to me, dear." She cups my face and asks worriedly.

"Drama queen" he complains.

"Drama queen-? What did you do to Aria, Asher? Did you hurt her? Hurting your own wife is so ungentleman like. So disappointed in you. I can't believe you would do this- "

"Ma, stop accusing me falsely. At least let her talk. She won't get me a gla-"

"Auntyyy" more fake sobs. I stick my tongue out at him when aunty is busy glaring at him. He throws up his hand and sighs in exasperation.

"You both-just-ugh, I'm out of here! Bye." And he heads out.

I almost chuckled and blew my cover.

"What's wrong, dear?"

Okay, I can't tell her the truth. So, I need a lie.

"Aunty..uh, I can't tell you.."

"It's okay, you can tell me anything. I am like your mom"