Unexpected Promises

Epilogue

Atifa's pov:

It had been a few days since we came to Savusavu and today was our reception. Saad's family wanted to keep it early, and I don't blame them. It had been so long since we got married and they didn't even get to attend their own son's nikkah! They might have their wishes too since he was the only one remaining to get married in their family. After him was Alayna, but we all knew how long it would take for her to get married. She was still just a kid after all!

And how can we forget that people here were quick to start gossiping about anything and everything?

Although when we left, our topic died down after a while, but when I returned, it came up again. And it wasn't a pretty sight at all. I mean, the things spoken about us weren't pretty… decent at all. But what could we do? It wasn't like we could stop each and everyone from saying something. It wasn't in our hands.

But we were doing what we could do. And that was holding a reception.

On an honest note, I didn't think it would stop them from gossiping at all. Because gossiping is like, talking about a hot topic for a while, until it starts to lose its charm and cools down. Then they find another topic to gossip about. And when they get another topic, they leave this one behind, until they get some spicy news related to it again.

Back to the point at hand, even though I tried my best to stay calm, my jittery nerves wouldn't let me be. The ruksati had taken place when we were coming here from Suva.

(Ruksati - Usually the bride leaving her house to live with her husband is called ruksati. Some people hold functions of ruksati but it wasn't done in this case. After ruksati, the spouses begin living together as husband and wife.)

When mamu got to know that we were going to meet Saad's family, he decided it was best to do my ruksati quietly. It was also because ammi insisted on having ruksati before we left. So there was no function held, no friends called, just mamu's family and us. He gave my hand in his, a ritual which usually the bride's father does when she's about to leave for her new home. And if he's not there, then her brother does. And if even he's not there, then her uncle's or grandfather does.

Since my case was the latter one, mamu did my ruksati. And unintentionally, even though I tried my best to stay collected, a few tears had slipped from my eyes, reminding me of my abbu. Oh how much I wished for him to be there! To look at his princess finally getting married to the prince of her dreams!

But no matter what, we cannot turn back time, we cannot bring back what we have lost. We can only pray, for them, for our future, for everything.

"You are looking so beautiful that I'm sure Saad is going to faint today." Bhabi teased while setting my bridal veil on my shoulder.

"Jazak Allahu Khairan." Feeling flustered, I mumbled, thankful for the makeup for covering my face.

I was wearing a maroon Indian wedding dress which had golden thread work on its sleeves, neckline and border. It was a knee length top with a lehenga underneath it. The dress was simple, elegant, not too heavy, just the way I liked it. I had paired it up with a golden hijab and a separate maroon veil to use it as a ghunghat to cover my face. Even though the function was being held separately for ladies and gents, we couldn't stop everyone from taking pictures. And as a niqabi, I couldn't take the risk of my pictures circulating on WhatsApp and everyone getting a chance to look at them. Precaution is better than cure after all.

(Lehenga - Long skirt with a wide flare.)
(Ghunghat - A veil used to cover one's face.)

A knock on the door interrupted us, making me anxious. Glancing at bhabi in panic, I silently asked her if it was time for us to leave the room. We were getting ready in the wedding hall, having left the house three hours back already.