chapter 3

The courtyard of the Chowdhury estate was a flurry of activity, decorated with vibrant marigolds and ornate canopies in preparation for the wedding. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the sounds of conch shells and shehnai, adding to the festive atmosphere. Despite the cheerful surroundings, Ashutosh stood in front of his mirror, adjusting his attire for the umpteenth time. His valet, Shanti, observed with a mixture of amusement and concern."Sir, you look perfect. The bride will be enchanted," Shanti said, trying to reassure him.Ashutosh sighed, his eyes fixed on his reflection. He wore a traditional silk dhoti and kurta, the fabric shimmering under the light. A deep maroon shawl was draped over his shoulder, and a topor, the traditional Bengali groom's headgear, sat uncomfortably on his head. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to be getting married to a stranger. But his father, Brijnarayan, had been adamant."It's a good alliance, Ashutosh. The Sanyal family may not have our wealth, but they have a good name. And Binodini is a beautiful girl," Brijnarayan had insisted.But Ashutosh wasn't interested in beauty or alliances. He wanted love, passion, and adventure. Not some arranged marriage to a girl he had never met.Just then, his mother, Kusumlata, entered the room. She was dressed in a resplendent Banarasi saree, her hair adorned with jasmine flowers. "Ashutosh, it's time. The bride is waiting. Don't keep her waiting," she said, her voice firm but anxious.Kusumlata's presence was both comforting and oppressive. According to tradition, she wouldn't be allowed to witness the actual ceremony, a custom that dictated Bengali mothers must not watch their children's marriage to avoid ill omens. Despite this, she had ensured every detail was perfect, from the decorations to the rituals.Ashutosh took a deep breath and followed his mother out of the room, down the grand staircase, and into the courtyard where the wedding ceremony was taking place. The sun beat down on them, casting a golden glow over the proceedings.The courtyard was divided into sections for various rituals. One corner hosted the "Bor Jatri," the groom's procession, where Ashutosh's relatives and friends were gathered, singing and playing traditional instruments. Another section was prepared for the "Gaye Holud," a pre-wedding ritual where turmeric paste was applied to both the bride and groom. The main altar, the "Mandap," was decorated with intricate designs of flowers and leaves, the focal point of the ceremony.As they approached the Mandap, Ashutosh caught sight of Binodini for the first time. She was indeed beautiful, dressed in a stunning red Banarasi saree with intricate gold embroidery. Her long hair was adorned with fresh flowers, and her large, kohl-rimmed eyes were downcast, revealing her nerves. She was surrounded by her family and friends, participating in the ritual of "Saat Paak," where the bride is taken around the groom seven times to symbolize the intertwining of their lives.Despite her beauty, Binodini looked scared, trapped. Ashutosh felt a pang of sympathy for her but also a sense of resentment. Why was she agreeing to this arranged marriage, just like him?The ceremony began with the "Mala Bodol," the exchange of garlands. Ashutosh and Binodini stood opposite each other, holding the floral garlands in their hands. As they exchanged the garlands, their eyes met briefly, and Ashutosh saw the same reluctance and sadness in Binodini's eyes that he felt in his heart.Next came the "Sampradan," where the bride's father placed her hand in the groom's hand, symbolizing the transfer of responsibility. Ananda Sanyal, Binodini's father, performed the ritual with a solemn expression. His eyes met Ashutosh's briefly, a silent plea for him to take care of his daughter.The "Sindoor Daan" followed, where Ashutosh applied vermilion to the parting of Binodini's hair, marking her as a married woman. This was a moment of finality, the point of no return. Ashutosh's hand trembled slightly as he completed the ritual, aware of the weight of tradition and duty pressing down on him.The final ritual was the "Saptapadi," where the bride and groom took seven steps around the sacred fire, each step signifying a vow they made to each other. As they circled the fire, Ashutosh felt a growing sense of entrapment. Each vow, each step, seemed to tighten the bonds of obligation around him.With the conclusion of the "Saptapadi," the ceremony was complete. The priest chanted blessings, and the gathered guests cheered and showered the couple with flower petals. Ashutosh went through the motions, accepting congratulations and blessings, but his heart wasn't in it. He felt like a prisoner, trapped in a life he didn't want.As the ceremony ended and the guests began to mingle and celebrate, Ashutosh caught Binodini's eye. For a moment, they just looked at each other, two strangers bound together by duty and obligation. Binodini's eyes were welling up with tears, and she quickly looked away, overwhelmed by the emotions of the day.Ashutosh felt a pang of guilt. He knew he wasn't the only one who was unhappy about this marriage. But what could he do? He was trapped, just like Binodini. They were both victims of a society that valued tradition and alliances over individual happiness.After the ceremony, there was the "Basor Raat," the wedding night ritual where the newlyweds were supposed to spend their first night together. However, according to custom, they would be surrounded by friends and family, who would sing and make merry, ensuring the couple had no privacy. It was meant to be a night of celebration, but for Ashutosh, it felt like another layer of confinement.As the evening wore on, Ashutosh and Binodini were led to their room, the path lined with well-wishers and mischievous relatives. The room was decorated with flowers and candles, a romantic setting that felt at odds with their emotions. The guests continued their festivities outside, singing traditional songs and making jokes at the couple's expense.Once the door closed, a heavy silence settled between Ashutosh and Binodini. They stood awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. The room felt stifling, the weight of expectations pressing down on them."I'm sorry," Ashutosh said finally, breaking the silence. Binodini looked up at him, surprised by his words."For what?" she asked softly."For everything. For this marriage, for the way things have turned out," he replied, his voice tinged with regret.Binodini nodded, her eyes filling with tears again. "I understand. I feel the same way."They sat down, the awkwardness slowly giving way to a shared sense of resignation. They talked late into the night, sharing their dreams and fears, discovering that they had more in common than they had initially thought. Both felt trapped by their circumstances, longing for freedom and self-determination.As the night drew to a close, they made a pact. They would support each other, be friends and allies in this new life they had been thrust into. It wasn't the passionate love Ashutosh had dreamed of, but it was a start. They would face the future together, as partners in a reluctant alliance.Outside, the festivities continued, oblivious to the quiet resolution forming inside the room. The reluctant bridegroom and the hesitant bride had found a glimmer of hope amidst the constraints of tradition, a small spark that might one day kindle into something more.