My First Year As Your Wife (Part-1)


A quiver ran down my spine
The first day I stepped out of my new room,
I was a newly married bride
To a newlywed groom.

In a day we were to leave for
The supposed ‘couple time’, our ‘Honeymoon’.
It felt utterly strange how a single event
For a whole lifetime was expected to be a boon.

Day in and day out, a month or two,
Gradually became passengers of the same lorry,
I was beginning to feel the ‘sweet and sour’ of an Indian marriage
And all the rituals both beautiful and gory.

Your work had now paced up
And so had mine.
The fatal feeling of marital pressure,
Meaningless rites and tagging along to shrines.

I was afraid I could
Lose my calm at any moment,
And you made sure all our evening walks
Curbed all that would eventually foment.

While the summers weren’t easy on me,
The monsoons and winters were a perfect delight.
I finally knew what they called ‘love after marriage’,
The tranquillity of the sea after a stormy night.

They often said:
“A perfect marriage is all about compromise.”
I was slowly believing all that they spoke of love, myths
And a lot that they would randomize.

My favourites days have now taken the lead,
The festive season is just around the corner.
My first: Dussehra, Diwali, and Christmas meandering
on its way ready to celebrate with lights and honour.

A butterfly out of its shell,
I was a free bird,
“Be careful, those who fly in a flurry often make a bad landing,”
-Was repeatedly said and heard.

-To be continued

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