ECHOES OF A LOST PROMISE

February 2020

The sun shone brightly, casting a golden glow over what should have been a perfect day. A wedding—a sacred bond, a lifetime of promises.

Outside the grand hall, guests arrived in elegant attire, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Inside, the venue was breathtaking. Flowers cascaded down the walls, their fragrance mixing with the rich aroma of sandalwood. At the middle, a priest sat on an elevated stage, his rhythmic chants echoing centuries-old traditions.

For an Indian couple, this wasn't just a ceremony—it was destiny. A sacred union meant to last for eternity.

Yet, amidst the joy and celebration, one person felt none of it.

Behind an ornate wooden door, in a dimly lit room, the groom stood motionless. His sherwani was pristine, his posture composed, but his eyes… his eyes betrayed a storm raging within.

In another part of the venue, his bride was surrounded by warmth—her sister, her friends, her makeup artist—all laughing, chatting, and clicking selfies. She was a vision of beauty, draped in elegance, her lehenga shimmering under soft lights.

But the groom?

He was alone. Not because he had to be, but because he chose to be.

His friends, his cousins—they had all been there, ready to help him get dressed, to joke around, to lift his spirits. But he had sent them away.

Because in this moment, nothing felt real.

His hands trembled as they clutched something—a photograph. A single image. A single memory.

His fingers traced the edges, lingering over the face in the picture. His lips parted, his voice a whisper.

"She is the reason... She is the reason for this emptiness on my big day..."

Over and over, the words left his lips, breaking with every syllable. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his vision blurred. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the sobs, but the pain was too much to bear.

A shuddering breath.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

His hands shook as he brought the photograph to his heart, holding it close, as if it were the last piece of a lost dream.

Groom's POV

"If anyone sees me like this, they'll ask questions. That's why I sent them away. I don't need their concern. I don't need their pity. I just… I just need to get through this day."

His gaze remained locked on the photograph, his voice barely a whisper.

"Today is my big day, little angel… Do you know what that means?"

"I imagined this moment so many times—you, standing beside me, smiling, happy. That's how it was supposed to be. Ever since the day I met you, that was the only way I saw my future."

"But dreams… dreams are just that. Dreams. Nothing more."

His fingers curled around the photograph. His knuckles turned white.

"I was a fool. I built an entire future in my mind. But reality… reality has shattered it to pieces."

"They say life never turns out the way we expect it to. And today, I understand that more than ever."

He exhaled sharply, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"I feel it, baby. I damn feel it."

"What we dream of today, what we hope for… it never happens the way we want. Maybe that's just how life is. And right now… I don't even know if I'm ready for this marriage. I don't know if I truly want it. All I know is…"

"I need you."

"Even if it's just in spirit, even if it's just your blessing… I need it to survive this day."

His voice cracked.

"Please… just this once. Give me your blessing. That's all I ask."

"I know you're watching me from somewhere… I just hope, somehow, that you still love me."

A sharp knock.

He stiffened.

He panicked.

Quickly, he pressed his lips against the photograph, a lingering, desperate kiss.

"Stay with me, baby. Just stay with me till the end."

With one last, trembling breath, he tucked the photograph into his suitcase, hiding it as if it were a forbidden secret.

Knock.

"Yuvaa, are you ready? Open the door!"

His heart pounded. His throat felt tight.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to the mirror.

His reflection stared back at him—a man dressed as a groom. Smiling on the outside. Drowning on the inside.

His eyes, red and swollen, screamed the truth.

But no one would see it. No one would know.

"Hold it together, Yuvaa. Just smile. Pretend everything's fine."

A second knock—louder, more urgent.

"Yuvaa! Are you there? Open the door!"

He swallowed hard.

"No matter what, I must act like I'm fine. I must."

With one last glance at his reflection, he reached for the door handle.

A deep breath.

A practiced smile.

And then, he pulled the door open—