As I watched Meena’s face redden, my mind drifted back to my father’s theory about love after marriage. This was how it all started. These were two strangers who had never kissed, hugged, held hands, or even been alone in the same room together, yet this small game would force them to shed their inhibitions and share their first intimate moments. It was crazy. But as I looked into Meena’s excited face, I couldn’t help but smile. Underneath all the craziness, there was an innocence and sweetness to this first physical interaction that even I couldn’t deny.

An Unexpected Hero

“The groom’s party has arrived!” Jamila aunty shouted over the music. I held my breath as the entire room erupted in cheers.

A small crowd gathered near the doors. While everyone tried to catch a glimpse of the groom, I was hoping to catch sight of someone else. From atop the shoulders of his entourage, Haroon entered ceremoniously through the garlanded entrance smiling and waving nervously as each guest stepped aside to create a path. His grin widened when he locked eyes with Meena waiting for him on the stage. She dropped her eyes to her hands and smiled shyly.

Haroon was wearing a golden brocade sherwani with silver embellishments around the collar, and traditional khussas on his feet. His dupatta was draped across his shoulders with one side looped casually around his neck. Behind him was Hisham, looking dashing in a white cotton kameez with his face freshly shaven and his hair slicked back.

My heart skipped a beat.

As the procession danced their way to the stage, Haroon’s entourage lowered him to the ground so he could make his way up the platform. He walked onto the stage and sat down next to Meena just as the cameras started flashing. Guests slowly began taking turns coming up to the stage to give their blessings to the blushing bride and groom while live performers entertained the crowd with the singing of nasheeds and traditional songs. Excitement buzzed throughout the room.

I stood on my tiptoes trying to catch another glimpse of Hisham. However, I quickly lost sight of him as the sea of new guests swallowed him up. Did he see me? Will he try to say hello? I walked past the buffet tables continuing to scan the room but instead caught sight of myself in the mirror hanging above one of the serving stations. I gasped.

“Crap!” I muttered as I frantically dabbed drops of sweat from my face. My T-zone was glistening from the humidity in the room, and my tight curls had loosened, hanging flatly down my shoulders like limp noodles. I dipped my hair forward and scrunched out the waves in a desperate attempt to revive them. Then I pulled out a tube of lipstick from my small clutch and applied it generously. I was determined to make a better impression than the one I had made this morning. As I blotted my lips on a piece of tissue paper, I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into the adjacent hallway.