I Went to Her Wedding

It was a beep on my phone. I was lying on my mattress, staring at the roof, tired from work, lazy enough to even change my clothes. On the second beep, I picked up the phone. For a second, I did not know how to react. I felt a little numb, but then took a deep breath and put my phone away... upside down. The next moment it rang, I picked it up without even looking at the screen

“Have you seen it yet?”. It was Faraz.

“Yeah, she sent it to our WhatsApp group.”

“Did she text you anything personally?”.

“No”, was my answer.

“So, now what?”

“Shadi ki roti khayenge ja ke aur kya”, I responded.

(We’ll enjoy the wedding meal, what else.)

“Have you asked Jaweria if she’s going?”

“How may I know, I’m barely in touch with anyone.”

…

   I hung up the phone, opened the WhatsApp group, and started to stare at her messages. It was her wedding card and a short text of the invitation to all the friends.

“Hey fellas, I am getting married by the end of this March and you are all invited to the wedding. PS. Details are mentioned on the card.”

   I don’t know why but I kept reading this line for a long while. I did not blink, I did not move, my hand stood steadily held the phone.. my thumb, instinctively double tapped on the screen whenever it turned off. In all of this, I drifted off. 

        The next day was a Sunday. Usually, I don’t leave my bed till noon on weekends, but that day, I was feeling a bit uneasy. I could not even sleep well. It was not the case that the news was roaming around my head, instead, it was a strange kind of anxiety, a little headache. My eyes were red and felt itchy. I went for a shower assuming it could make me feel relaxed, but, all in vain. I lied down again on my bed and scrolled Facebook. On the spur of the moment, my mind caught the thought of her wedding card again. I felt blank. All those years... all those beautiful moments... all those romantic chats... the sorrows and all the fights.. All flashed in my eyes. I opened the card and started contemplating. The design... the colors... the font style... and the catchy phrase: “Your blessings matter the most to us! We invite you to share the joy with us”, made me smile. Red plain border with pink and golden flowery sketches over it, pale-card textured foreground... calligraphic writing and a well-illustrated cartoon of the bride wearing traditional shalwar kameez... with golden needlework and the groom dressed in a cream-colored kurta with skin brown waist-coat standing right next to her, holding hands. At the bottom, the date, time, and venue were mentioned. It was like the one I designed for her cousin, for her wedding a couple of years ago and she wished for a similar voguish design for her wedding card as well. Well, wishes do come true. Everything was exactly the same as we planned for our wedding, back in the good days. The only difference being the name of the groom, which was different for a different time. “Talha Bashir Khan weds Naima Niaz”, it was not what I wished for. I kept thinking about the reasons for our separation, what went wrong, what could I still do to make it work. It’s no use to cry over the spilled milk, yet here I was, recreating situations.. rethinking scenarios.. and playing alternate possible outcomes in my head.

   I did not have anyone to talk about that alienated sentiment. Perhaps I was also confused and could not figure out what, and why was I even experiencing those strangling emotions. In a nutshell, I was disturbed, knowing the fact that separation was our mutual decision. Obviously, we were having issues finding a peaceful future together that is why we did ourselves apart and for the last 18 months, I somehow managed to get over it. Still, that card took me back in time... to feel everything good and bad yet again and left me with nothing, but stress on my chest.

   Time went on and thus came the day.  March 29, 2021. I put on the black suit that she gifted me for my birthday. It was my last present from her. I had thrown out all her gifts in anger but this one. I did not know then, nor do I know now why I saved it. I had it packed in a cover case and put it in my wardrobe. But that day, I took it out, ironed my shirt and pants, steamed the coat, wore it with a decent scent, and went.

   I never wanted to go there, until a day before March 29. But that Monday, I heard a voice in my head telling me to go and see her. I felt pushed towards the marquee. I prepared the dress and got ready, all in that uncomfort zone, and the next moment I found myself at the reception.

   A razzle-dazzled moment, I entered and sat on a chair at the last. Her younger sister saw me there, but she instantly walked away, she did not notice me. I was known to her whole family and in no time, they were all staring at me with a strange unwelcoming eye as if I was there to crash the party. Obviously, they all had questions about my presence because I don’t think any of them were expecting me or even had an idea that I knew about the wedding.

I was standing next to the reception door and felt a tap on my shoulder,

“You? What are you doing here?”. It was her cousin, Hareem.

“I don’t know, I got the invitation”. I turned to reply.

“See, it’s not a good time, please leave”.

“Relax, I am not here to create a scene. Do I look like a fool to you?”.

   And obviously, why would I cause any drama? I was not there to win her back. Getting back together was not an option to me... and at that time, not to her as well. It’s not a drama film where I would call her name in front of a crowd, and she would run to me... unreluctantly. And we were being left in peace.

“Then why did you come?”

“I really don’t know; I had a feeling that I should come, and I’m here”.

“Does she know? No, she cannot know”.

“I don’t think so”.

“Please sit down calmly and leave soon”.

“You really don’t need to worry about me, but please, do not tell her about it either.”

   She nodded and left toward the bride’s room. In a moment, all the lights went off, a spotlight turned toward the entrance of the hall. Everyone was quiet and she appeared in the scene. The same bride which I saw on the card was in front of me. Maroon lehenga... lower gaze... walking slowly. Her parents stood by her side, holding her hands, walking her to the stage. She was walking on the carpet of roses. The bridesmaids also stood there, along the way, throwing flowers on them. I looked at her with a smile and then went a little behind so she could not see me. The groom held her hand and she sat beside him on the couch. The light went on again. I walked towards the back side, sat yet again on the last chair but couldn’t sit there for long. I wanted to see her. So, I stood behind a big flower vase placed at the center of the hall.... but far far away from the stage so she could not see me clearly.

   She seemed happy, smiling, and laughing. I was watching her through the flowers. Afterward, a photographer asked the bride and groom to stand up for a picture. And that was the last sight of her that I can remember. The way she looked at the groom with her deep starry eyes, and a blushy smile. I could tell, her heart would have missed a beat when the groom squeezed her body into his arms and she put her hands on his shoulder and neck. At that moment, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, turned back, and walked towards the exit.

   The unclear sentiments that got me all into this, made everything clear to me. I got the strength to move out, I got the strength to move away. The little sparkle in the ashes of love for her, I put that out too that day. No one can ever be at her place obviously, but the unrest of my chest blew away.