Colors

A flurry of activity. I am a little dizzy. Is it due to not eating or a rush of excitement? Everyone knows what I should be doing, except for me. He is here. From the window, in a sea of sky blues dotted with silver stars and greens lined with gold, amidst the yellows and the pinks, I try to look for maroon and white. He did say he will make sure that his outfit matches mine. Its time to go.

I steal a look at the mirror. The maroon gemstones emit a glow as if they have been connected through the veins to my heart. The color of henna on my palm is almost black. The friends cannot stop teasing me. They say when the color of the henna on the girl’s hands is dark, she is very loved by her in-laws. Its time to go.

Looking for him, he turns and flashes a big smile from the alcove. His eyes are as radiant as the diamond studded golden tear-drop broach he has on his suit. I sit next to him. We are surrounded by daisies in every color of daisies possible. He knows I like daisies. Together we do as we are told, all the while stealing glances at each other, smiling. A lot of smiling.

Round one. He will make sure that he will take great care of me. Through the snow-white winters to the greens and reds of spring to the monsoon blues to the sunny yellows of summer. Round two. We will make sure that we will help each other achieve goals, both material and spiritual. Round three. I will step ahead of him when death comes calling. Round four. Our endeavors will be fruitful. Godspeed.

Time to eat. The dinner table is set in green and orange. I do not remember how and why these colors were chosen. Oh, I never asked what his favorite sweet dish is. I wonder.

Two trips around the sun.

Round one. He will not object to me listening to music all the time. Round two. We will make sure to not fight over who gets to watch T.V. when both the Indian ‘Men in Blue’ Cricket team and the Boston ‘Club Green Celtics’ are playing at the same time. We will just watch Tennis instead. Round three. I will make sure he gets his weekly dose of a Bollywood movie. Round four. I will make sure not to keep talking about how hot the British accent is or Australian cricketers for that matter.

Oh, he brought me orange daisies today. I think to myself again and smile, “Ah, arranged marriage!”

This was one of the first pieces I wrote for my class. Due to this piece, everyone in my class for the entire semester thought that I was married. I found out on the last day of class and had a good laugh.

What you resist, persists; What you accept, transforms ~ Carl Jung