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We piled into the cars and drove to the airport, and forty minutes later, we were pulling up outside Jadhwal Palace. It looked as if the whole village was there to welcome us. People were lined up from the main gates all the way to the front door, and they rained flowers on our car as we passed them.
Veer and I waved and smiled at them, and I realised that his people were now my people. At least, for the next year. I felt a pang at the thought of dissolving the marriage after a year, but I couldn’t assume that he’d want to stay married to me just because the sex was wonderful.
As for me, I had loved him since I learned what it was to love. I had loved him even when I had hated him, and I had a feeling I would love him till my last breath. And I would learn to live without him, I swore. After all, I had done it for so long. I would do it again.
Veer’s mother did the aarti and I entered the palace. We were whisked away to the big puja room on the ground floor for the rituals, and it was almost an hour before I was allowed to eat some breakfast.
As I spooned up some poha, Veer’s father beamed at me.
“Beta, Ranvijay’s team has issued a press release about your wedding, along with some lovely pictures. They’ve said that it was a simple, private ceremony due to the death in your family and that there will be a formal reception at a later date. That’s done,” he said, sounding relieved.
The poha turned to ashes in my mouth. This is exactly what I could do without. I knew what was going to happen. It was the same thing that happened after Diya and Bhai Sa’s wedding pics went public. Among all the good wishes for the happy couple lurked a lot of nasty comments about the groom’s fat sister.
I had married one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. Of course, the trolls were going to come for me. I pushed the plate away because the smell of food made my stomach turn.
“What’s wrong?” asked Veer.
In response, I pulled up the announcement on one of the social media channels and scrolled through the captions. When I found what I was looking for, I turned the phone around to face him.
“That’s what’s wrong,” I hissed.
The trolling had already begun. My wedding photos were quite flattering, so some miserable incel had found some of my most unflattering pics from the depths of the internet and made an awful collage to go with the original pic. There followed a long discussion about the possible procedures I might have had to lose the ten or so extra kilos I used to carry.
Veer looked thunderous as he called RV.
“Dude, what the fuck? Did you see the kind of comments that are popping up on social media about Isha? Find a way to shut them down right now. I don’t care if you need to find those little fuckers and break into their houses to threaten them. I will not tolerate anyone bullying my wife,” he growled.
He ended the call and turned to me.
“Don’t you dare believe them, Isha,” he snarled.
“Why shouldn’t I? They aren’t wrong,” I said bitterly.
“Of course, they are wrong, beta,” said Veer’s father kindly. “These are jealous people with no achievements of their own.”
“And what achievements do I have, Uncle? I am a princess through an accident of birth. And I married a prince because we both needed each other.”
“Beta, none of those people have ever fought and turned around their lives like you and Dheer. And you did it with no help from any of us. You could have lived very luxurious lives off the money that your father earned through illegal means. But you and Dheer put a stop to all that activity and brought progress and prosperity to Trikhera. You achieved what even the government couldn’t do in seventy years. Don’t you think that counts?”
“And why does the opinion of strangers matter more to you than ours, Isha?” asked Veer.
I thought about it for a bit and I couldn’t find the answer.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly.
“It’s because you’re looking for a reason to think poorly of yourself,” he replied harshly. “You need to love yourself before you expect anyone to love you.”
“I don’t expect anyone to love me,” I said angrily.
“And yet we do,” replied Veer’s father, gently. “Beta, I have known you since you were a little girl, and I love you like you were my own daughter. Let that weigh against the bad things that strangers say about you. For every nasty comment made by someone who has never met you, someone you know will have a good thing to say about you. By that calculation, I’d say you come up roses.”
Was it really that simple, I wondered wearily. Hating myself had become a habit now. How could I break the habit of a lifetime with a simple calculation?
“For this moron who says you look old and haggard, I say that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” said Veer softly. “Whom do you believe, Isha? Me or him? Time to choose.”
I burst out crying and Veer held me tightly as I sobbed into his shoulder. His father patted my head lovingly, and I wondered what Gulab Banna would have said to me if he saw me break down like this. He’d weathered a lot more pain than this with a brave smile.
I was not a weakling, I decided, wiping my eyes with the edge of my dupatta. It wasn’t going to be easy to bear the trolling, but I had to try.
