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The Marriage We Didn’t Ask For

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She sat at the dinner table, picking at her food, eyes drifting to her parents. They didn’t argue. They didn’t laugh. They barely looked at each other. Just two people who once promised forever, now living out a silent truce. The sound of cutlery scraping plates filled the air where love should have been. As a child, she thought this was normal. That love was a quiet ache. That marriage was two people together but alone. She studied the stiffness of their hands, the absence of warmth in their voices. She learned that silence can be heavy, and that you can lose someone long before they leave. So when people asked if she wanted to get married, she felt her heart tighten. How could she want something that looked so painful? She’d seen promises kept out of duty, not love. Seen peace traded for resentment. Seen how two hearts could turn into strangers under the same roof. And she wasn’t the only one. So many of us grew up watching love fade, not with a bang, but a whisper. We saw marriag...
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Bamboo Tree and The Saree

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Eighteen years. That’s two decades minus two, or as my heart calculates— an eternity . Eighteen years of dreaming, hoping, and holding on. And now, here I stand, on the precipice of what feels like the grand finale of this emotional saga: the very real possibility of marrying the love of my life. But it’s not just a possibility anymore, is it? It’s tangible. It’s vivid. It’s happening . We’re no longer stuck in wistful conversations about someday . We’re actually discussing guest lists, budgets, menus, and outfits. Do you know what that means? It means this is no longer a dream. It’s real, and my excitement is off the charts. I’m 95% sure I’m getting married. Ninety-five percent! Those are better odds than most things in life, and let me tell you, I’m ecstatic. But here’s the catch: that last 5%—the sliver of uncertainty—has turned my excitement into chaos. It’s like I’m living in a whirlwind. I can’t focus. I can’t work. All I do is scroll through endless Pinterest boards, hunting ...
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The Silent Echo of Her Soul

She stood at the edge of her dreams, the soft rustle of her wedding attire a symphony of hope and anxiety. The vows were exchanged, not just between hearts but also between families, customs, and unspoken rules. Love, that fragile and beautiful thing, had brought her here—to him. Yet, as she looked at him, her everything, she realized the world wasn't looking at him. It was staring at her. Judging. Measuring. Binding. The woman who walked into the wedding mandap was a daughter, a dreamer, a lover, and a soul full of infinite possibilities. The woman who stepped out was draped in expectations she hadn’t chosen. The transformation was subtle but devastating. She carried it all: the love for him, the weight of their world, and the silent resignation of what she was leaving behind. She had imagined a life of shared laughter, quiet moments, and a love that would fill every corner of their home. She thought of decorating the walls with her touch, filling the air with the fragrance of h...
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When the Spine Breaks, So Does She

Most women often feel lonely in a marriage. It’s not the kind of loneliness you can shake off with a cup of coffee or a walk in the park. It’s the kind that sits in the pit of your stomach, hollow and cold, even when you’re not alone. The kind of loneliness that lingers even when your husband is sitting right next to you. The biggest support a woman has is her husband—her friend, her lover, her spine. He is the one who lifts her up, helps her breathe when life suffocates her. But imagine when that spine breaks... no amount of wheelchairs, support systems, or sticks can ease that pain. She is left stranded, silently screaming, not for the world to hear, but for the man who once promised to stand by her side. It’s strange, isn’t it? How a man can hold a woman’s hand in public and make her feel cherished, but behind closed doors, the same hand pinches at her heart with hurtful words. Taunts that leave scars she can never show. “You’re not good enough,” “You’re a waste,” “Everything you do...
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