Imprisonment at Midnight

"Congrats, man, now you are on the official road to hell!" Exclaimed my best friend Rajeev, slapping me on the back.

I was half torn between wearily nodding and snapping at him, but finally gave in to the former. My eyes were almost closing, my legs ached and I was tired of looking at all the shiny stuff I had been forced to buy during the day.

Rajeev peered into one of the bags and pulled on the pallu of an atrociously bright gold saree. "Seriously, man. Hot." He said, rummaging through the other bags.

I wondered if the guy was high. Rajeev spent most of his time in a different world, and when he did get into mine, he was the most intrusive person I had ever known.

My mother came into the room holding a glass of juice for me. Her eyes had that odd gleam that came into them only during wedding time. The only time when she never complained of any of her various illnesses and when she seemed perenially drunk on Red Bull.

She looked annoyed at seeing Rajeev messing with the day's purchases. "Those-are-not-for-you!" She said, punctuating each word with a smack on Rajeev's wrists. But I could see she was only half serious, nothing could get her down this time of the year. It was marriage time!

Rajeev drew back, grinning and not in the least bothered. "Thank you Aunty." he said, sweetly taking away my glass of juice and starting to sip.

My mother looked exasperated, but she seemed even more concerned about the clothes and jewllery in the bags than my exhaustion.

"I am going to put these away." She announced and started piling up the bags.

Just looking at the packages enervated me. Looking at my mother's enthusiasm made me feel almost faint.

Rajeev turned to me to say something, but seeing my expression he got up. " I shall leave, my man. See you in a few days at the wedding. I'll celebrate it!" He winked.

I nodded and tried to glare at him at the same time. I knew his version of celebrations. He would go out with that girlfriend of his and drink the night away. And sleep through it too.

Pah. I didn't know who I was irritated with- that loser Rajeev, who had always failed at school and got suspended a million times for doing drugs and sleeping with the girls at the neighbouring college but now ran a decently successful auto business; or myself - the sterling student, the model pupil, who was getting married to a girl he had seen twice - over the internet.

Duty. That's where Rajeev and I had differed. He had never made his parents proud like I had. He had never listened to them and been guided by what they had said. Hell, people said he had secretly married that girlfriend of his because her parents had threatened to marry her off to someone else! Whereas I was doing the right thing - I was marrying a person whom my parents had picked, a nice traditional girl who was homely and who was the right person for me....

I could practically hear the strains of Dil To Pagal Hai playing in my head.

I sighed. Forever I was caught in the battle between duty and my own sarcastic mind, and forever duty won the battle. I didn't know if it was because of fear of my own mind which could run away in hitherto unexplored directions if let loose or if it was because I was scared of becoming like Rajeev.

Not that Rajeev was bad. It was just that he was on his own trip. He was also always on... a solo trip. His family had cut him off, he loathed his relatives, it was just him and his girlfriend. And her family seemed out of the picture too. Sometimes I felt sorry for him, that he didn't have the strong roots I had - a family to fall back on, to go home to....

"Aye!" My mother was waving her hand in front of me. She was showing me some really gaudy piece of jewellery. "What do you think? Solid gold with rubies. Big enough for her, eh??"

I swallowed. "Very nice."

"We'll show them what a good family we are..." Mother muttered, holding up the necklace to her own neck. "What do they think, we can't afford it...?"

Family. Duty. It was all worth it...

* * *

"Oh my God, is that you?" Rajeev peered through the strings of flowers that covered my face. "Can I please die of laughter at this?"

I practically growled and pulled off the wedding headgear. I hated flowers. I loathed them. And now all these bloody things were covering my face.

My patience had run out. I was tired of all the rituals they were subjecting me to over the last few days. I had had so many different sweets shoved into my mouth, so many different things poured on my head (from jaggery to rice to water to milk) and changed into so many different outfits that I was very, very close to screaming my lungs out.

Rajeev, for the first time in his life, looked concerned. "You look sick." He informed me.

"Well I have had a fantastic diet." I snapped. "What is going on outside?"

"I don't know. Your girl is doing something around the fire. I am not sure what. The priest is very slow, he keeps getting phone calls or messages and stops his chanting. I think he's getting match updates." Rajeev replied, his grin back in place. "You should be out on the stage soon, don't worry."

"What is the bloody time?" I asked, looking at the horrible clock mounted on the wall of the green room of the wedding hall, where I sat sequestered and waiting for the Holy Priest to call me out.

"Eleven forty. That clock doesn't work. Your muhurtam time is still about ten minutes away." Rajeev said.

"What you bloody learnt that invitation card by heart?" I asked, trying to get my headgear back up on my head.

Rajeev laughed. "You know, I think this is the most violent and abusive you have ever been."

"You are making fun of me!" I said.

Rajeev smiled. "No I am not. You are one of the few people in this world who are genuine, Adi. I'll return that favour. Plus, you always stood by me, even though you were also always judging me in your over active head."

I glared at him, even though I was ashamed he knew that fact. "What are you giving me all this for?"

Rajeev laughed till tears sprang to his eyes. "I didn't know the wedding could make you so aggressive!"

I stared at him and suddenly I knew what had happened. This was wrong. It was all wrong. I wasnt afraid of being like Rajeev, I wanted to be him. I didn't want to marry some girl my mother had picked when I didn't even know her, I didn't want to pretend I had a support system in my family when they had never supported anything that I had wanted. I didn't want to go through a marriage that would tie me down to the very things I always wished to run away from....

"Rajeev." I whispered, feeling sick by the minute. "Rajeev, I..."

The door opened and my father poked his head around it. He looked weary, tired of all the fuss going on outside and I knew this was what I would look like forty- fifty years hence. It was as though suddenly everything around me was screaming that this was wrong....

"The priest is waiting." My father said. "Come out."

I turned to Rajeev, in complete panic.

He had slipped out via the side door.

I was on my own. I was walking to my own imprisonment.

I stared from the side door to my father. Back and forth.

And made my decision.