Sitting in this room, dressed in the weight of tradition, stitched in scarlet and gold, I felt like a living corpse ready to be delivered into a life I never wanted. Bridal lehenga, Kundan jewelry, Red chooda. Everything screamed joy outside. But inside me? A slow funeral march.
Show your support
If you love my work and wish to support me, you can do so on Stack! Your support means the world to me and helps me create more content for you.
Write a comment ...