The Pink Saree

11pm on a Tuesday night, a messy room and a pile of homework staring back at
her. The town had just fallen asleep, her father’s snoring serving as a reminder to
stay at home. She was signalling to her from below her window, frantically waving
so that she could come down. Her mind was split between two options.

The physics paper that was to be held the next morning and the girl who she had waited
for for so long. This was truly a fight of Emotion VS Ambition, a line to sum up
what being a teenager is. She chose her over-powering emotions, the physics
papers flying as the wind from the window came in and she stepped out.

She carefully climbed down the ladder, making sure to not cause too much commotion
as to alert her parents and neighbours. They embraced each other in a long hug, as
all the worries of all that lay ahead slowly faded away.

Windows down, a cool evening breeze and loud 90’s bollywood music blaring
through, all while holding hands with the love of their lives. They were in love,
they were in bliss. They drove two neighbourhoods across, to her empty house as
her parents were out of town. Hand in hand, with huge smiles plastered across their
faces, they went in. They cuddled up around the fireplace, dreaming about their
future together.

Wholesome and loving conversations, but with ever-lasting fear.
Would their parents ever accept them? Will they be able to love each other openly?
Slowly, the wholesome and loving conversation took a turn and turned to tears.
She wanted to cheer her girlfriend up, they wanted to be lost in the magic of that
young and reckless first love.

They went up to her parent’s bedroom and keeping up with the bollywood-like
theme of the evening, they played dress up and pretended everything was fine,
forgetting all their apprehensions about being accepted as a couple. She was
lovingly draping her partner in her mother’s old and timeless pink saree, that she
hoped to wear to her own wedding someday, celebrating their love openly.

Lost in their own world, they lost track of time and soon the sun came up and her parents
had pulled up in their driveway and came into their house to find their daughter
with her girlfriend.

They were trying to think clearly in that moment, but having grown up in a world
where same-sex couples weren’t normalised, they panicked. They were ashamed of
their daughter and pulled the two apart. Scared, both of them wanted to defend
their love, save their love but the atmosphere was such that they couldn’t think
straight.

The other set of parents were summoned and there the six of them sat on the
breakfast table, not knowing what to do. Two sets of ashamed parents and two
daughters deeply in love. There were tears that morning, screaming and arguing,
but their love was real. Vey real. The evening breeze came in once again, the pink
saree in the corner of the room picking up the breeze.

That saree symbolised their love, their woman-hood, their simplicity and their future.

The evening breeze wassuch and it must’ve been a sign from the universe because the saree came and
landed in their parent’s lap. Tears were shed, but at last, they were happy tears.

College degrees that lay ahead and all their worries in the world suddenly faded
away. They embraced each other once again, but this time happy tears streamed
down their faces because love always wins, and love is love, regardless of who it
exists between.