She was sitting in front of a mirror, a bride, dressed in a red Saree staring at her wedding ring, not saying a word, just staring at it. Her mind was empty, incapable of thinking look and in a state in which you have no sense of time. Incapable of movement she was still staring at the ring. Someone knocked at the door. She didn’t move. The second time the knock was strong enough to break her solitude. She rose to open the door.
Her childhood friends came in hugged her, laughed, teased her and took their seats in front of the mirror. They stared at her, told her how beautiful looks, she smiled and looked at herself in the mirror. Her smile faded slowly as she slowly drifted away looking at herself in the mirror.
A voice in a back, a familiar one, praised her eyes. She looked at her eyebrow, at her golden eyelids and at the delicate line of Kajal running along her eyelashes. Perhaps it was the most beautiful pair that ever existed, a work of God- a sliver of its own existence, perhaps it had all the beauty this world had to offer. A dream she had, one she had kept so dear, had left her but her eyes were indifferent to the change.
A tear just began to form on her lower eyelid but she had blinked and successfully stopped it. With a deep breath, she rose, crushing away every thought of a rebellion and went for the final ceremony.