Destination

I wake up to the cornea of my eye burning.  I moan looking over at my alarm clock thinking the cause of my eye pain is the sun.  On my way to look at my clock, I see the true cause of my pain, my bright yellow wedding dress picked out by my mother.  At first, I look at the dress with confusion, not knowing what it is doing in my room; after all I am only fifteen, far too young to be getting married.  Then I remember that I in fact am getting married today, I realize that however much I pray to have freedom like Americans, it will never happen.  I comprehend reality. 

            My first instinct is to ignore the fact that I am getting married soon and go back to sleep but I just can’t seem to keep it off my mind.  I turn to my secret box, a box where I keep all of my favorite things.  In the box is a note that Inderpal, the real boy that I love, wrote to me back when I still thought I had a choice to love, long before mother and father told me about the arranged marriage I will be having.  The box also holds my life savings of rupees and best of all, my American magazines. 

I read these magazines every time I want to escape reality and pretend to be an American teenage girl just catching up on the latest celebrity gossip.  I read them constantly and have each one memorized, but it is still thrilling every time I read them.  If my parents knew I had these magazines, they would have sold me to a stranger a long time ago.  Mother and Father don’t like Americans at all.  They say they are too selfish and care only about money.  Even though mother and father dislike Americans, I would do anything to be one.  I think I am one actually.  Not so much on the outside, but on the inside I am just like any ordinary American teenager.

            Just as I am getting into the details about Brad and Angelina for about the twentieth time, I hear my mother scream for me.  “Abhaya” she yells, “put on your dress and come join me and father for brunch to celebrate your big day”.  I dare not argue with mother, “okay mother be right there” I yell back. Halfway mad because I am not American and never will be and halfway upset because I am getting married soon, I pull my dress on and go downstairs to have brunch with mother and father. 

            As I am walking down the stairs, I think about what I am going to say to my parents about my wedding.  At first I consider pretending to be okay with the marriage, perhaps even pretend to be happy that I am getting married.  Then I listen to my heart and think about protesting the wedding, to speak my mind to my parents.  The odds are not in my favor though, our family is not doing very well financially and it would save them a lot of money not having me around.

            When I get downstairs I see my mother and father sitting at the table with a beautiful feast prepared for us to eat.  At my seat is a large plate with various curries on top of a mountain of white rice with garlic naan on a smaller side dish plate.  I say good morning to my parents and begin to eat.  The food is delicious but I still can’t stop thinking about my wedding. As much as I want to speak my mind and tell my parents how much I don’t want to get married, I can’t find the courage so I just engage in their small talk.  I have made up my mind to bring it up though.  No matter how much they disagree, no matter how awkward the conversation may be, I will bring it up.

            We keep on talking about things that have little to no importance until I just can’t handle it anymore, I finally speak my mind.  “Why are you making me do this?” I violently yell.  “Why are you making me get married?” I continue, “You know I don’t want to!”  After saying these things I feel so relieved, like a volcano that was dormant for many years finally erupting.  The look on my parents face is priceless, they both turn a strange pale purple color and their eyes open wider than I thought possible. 

They continue to make this expression for what feels like forever, until my mother says “Oh sweetie, I don’t think any young woman necessarily wants to get married, it’s more a matter of needing to get married”.  Another long pause goes by until she says “I didn’t really want to get married to your father either, but I had to do what I had to do, now look at us, we have a beautiful family and we get along just fine”.  “Right” my father adds, “Everything is perfect and we didn’t have to waste time with all that ‘dating’ business”. 

“I know it is scary at first Abhaya, but eventually you will get to be comfortable with your new husband”, my mother chimes in.  Still not being afraid to speak my mind I say, “I don’t think you understand mother, I am not like you, I am different, I am American”.  “That is absurd!” she exclaims, “You were born and raised in India, you are Indian”.  Starting to get frustrated I say, “Yes, I know mother, I am not referring to where I was born and raised, my heart is American”. 

            Another long pause takes place and my parent’s face color has turned from pale purple to bright red.  Finally my father says in an infuriated tone “Get out of my sight, you are not American, you will never get anywhere in this world thinking you are something that you simply aren’t, and you certainly won’t get anywhere being so dramatic either!”  I feel a knot in my throat, my father has never been this angry at me before.  All of the sudden a wave of emotions punch me in the stomach and I run off to my room in tears.

            When I get to my room my heart is thumping.  My face is burning with rage and it is wet from my tears.  There is a salty taste in my mouth also from my tears.  The American in me always is making sure that I look decent, though right now all I feel is rage towards my parents.  All I do for the about the next hour is drown myself in my own tears.  When I finally pull myself together and decrease my weeping to a minimal, all I can think about is possible ways to escape getting married.  After about another hour of thinking, I come up with nothing.  Frustrated, I turn to my special box.  I look at the note and reminisce to the days when love was still an option, which only makes me angrier, so I put it back and start to read my magazines.

                   I find it impossible to sit still and read with so much anger accumulated inside of me.  I give up and put the magazines back in my box.  While I’m putting them back, my life savings of rupees catches my eye.  My life savings is not very large; I have only had one job in my life, a low paying job at that. I really only have enough money to buy a train ticket at the most.  All of the sudden my anger is replaced with joy as a brilliant idea enters my mind.  I take the pillowcase off of my pillow and start packing my things right away.

            I hear my mother yell “Start getting ready Abhaya, your ceremony starts in an hour”.  I lie and yell back “Okay mother, it won’t take me too long”.  I don’t pity my mother at all; she is the one who voluntarily was going to force me to get married to a complete stranger for the rest of my life.  I quickly pack enough clothes for a week and everything in my special box, write a letter telling my parents goodbye but make sure not to be too apologetic because they left me no choice.  I tie all of my blankets together and use them as a rope to safely escape from my window.

            It is still sunny outside when I land making it difficult to not be seen through the window by my parents.  I resort to getting on my stomach and crawling until I think I am out of their eyesight.  When I finally think it is safe and allow myself to get up and walk, the sun is beginning to set.  The sky is the most beautiful shade of pink I believe I have ever seen.  I decide to sit back down and take in the possibly last breath taking sunset I will ever have a chance to see.  In these few minutes my mind is totally clear despite all of the changes I am currently going through.  It brings me sorrow when the sun sets because now I have to go back to reality and deal with my problems.        

It takes me a while, but I gather my emotions and continue walking to the train station.  When I arrive, I retrieve my rupees out of my pillowcase and head over to the ticket booth.  The man at the ticket booth gives me a strange look, the kind of look that says “You stupid kid, you shouldn’t be here alone at your age.”  I proceed to the booth and ask the man for one ticket to the next train leaving the station.  He hesitantly takes all of my rupees and gives me a ticket.  I say thank you then take the ticket and walk over to the area where the trains board.  I glance at the ticket and see the words New Delhi.  I remember back to my childhood when I still went to school, I recall learning that New Delhi is India’s capital.   New Delhi is a big city, which will be a very different way of life than what I am used to living in the small town slumdog of Madhubani.

            A gust of wind blows my hair back and forces my eyes to shut as my train arrives at the station.  All of the sudden my heart starts to pound really fast. I have two options; I could walk away from the train station to a life with a stranger that is possibly violent, or I could get on the train to New Delhi and capture my destiny.  I decide to follow my heart and I walk on to the train.  I instantly feel relief like I did the right thing. The train is not very populated so I manage to find an empty seat.   The train takes off and I begin to gather my thoughts, I hear a male’s voice in a surprised tone say my name.  I turn my head to the right to see a face that looks very familiar.  Then I recognize him, sitting next to me is it is Inderpal, my first and only true love.  Butterflies begin to flutter around in my stomach as I hug Inderpal tightly.  I feel nothing but happiness and confidence in my decision.  I have captured my destiny.   

Author's Note

Please tell your honest opinion. I want to know how I can improve.

Reviews

[Richy Moon]

Very eye opening... Makes me as an American feel very lucky that no one forces us to get married to anyone. It was very vivd, It reminds me alot of what i'm writing (Offline, of course). Its very well written, very clear and direct. My only question: Is it true to that extent? I've heard a lot of rumors and stuff about them, and i don't know about you, but i prefer to write about stuff i know so that i know its all true. But good job, and keep writing! :)