I was sitting in the bed decorated with flowers, awaiting my husband’s arrival. I never ever dreamed even in my wildest one that I would be married off to a old guy, who turns 60, within a few months. My eyes were swelled up with the tears that I cried after I got engaged. It was my fate, a young girl who turned just 19, a few weeks back is now someone’s wife. I am not against marriage but with a old pervert, I just can’t digest it.
I am really not in mood now, to tell my past nor how I look. I know the night about to follow will be filled with his manliness filling up my femininity. The dawn of tomorrow will see me a woman, deprived of my preserved and precious virginity. The bed I am sitting now wearing this red silk saree will soon witness me; lying atop it, nude, spread and copulated. My in-laws, my mom and my kid sister who are all outside will listen to my whimpers, moans and cries in the middle of the night.
‘He’s your husband and it’s traditional for a women to submit to his desires. Do not protest nor be reluctant. Just co-operate and it will be end within no time,’ was my mother’s advice before she left me alone.
I would like you to know how I look. Even though, I ain’t in a mood to describe my features, I feel it’s fair to know what kind of girl the hideous beast is going to feast on. I stand 5’3, petite built, measuring 32-26-34; small, round breasts topped with brown nipples; handful for a man which goes below into a curvy, thin waist; soft and silky to touch; and my legs that are supple. I am brownish and looks like a traditional Indian girl. I think my dusky beauty lured me into this fate. Using my family’s poverty, the man offered a deal. To take care of my mother, my brothers and asked for me in marriage instead.