2 CHAPTER ONE

"This is the final boarding call for passenger Anaya Sharma booked on flight BA118 to England. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes" time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Anaya Sharma. Thank you."

Oh no! I knew I should've changed into my sneakers. Now this ridiculously tall heels will make me miss my goddamn flight!

"ANAYA SHARMA, HERE!", I announce as I rush into the cabin. All 40 pairs of eyes turn to look at me as I secretly wish the ground to swallow me and save me from this embarrassment. The airhostess tries to hide her smile as she points me to my seat. I flop down on my seat as I fish out my earphones from my bag and stuff it to the cabin storage overhead. I take out the envelope from my handbag and hug it to my chest as we take off.

I finally have it in my hands. I made it. I MADE IT TO MY DREAM UNIVERSITY! The feeling is so surreal. God! I still remember the first time I held this letter in my hand and I also remember the drama that followed it. I sigh as I sink deeper into the seat. Not willing to let my mood drop, I ask for a glass whiskey to celebrate my success as I begin read my letter.

"Your glass of whiskey, ma'am." I raise my hand to pick my glass but being the clumsy-ass person I am, the glass falls on my lap as it sneakily slips from my hennaed hands and the whiskey spills onto my red silk saree.

"Oh my god! I am so so so sorry ma'am. Let me help you with that."

"No no. Don't worry about it. I was not being careful. It's a great excuse to get out of this saree, I guess. All those pins are killing me."

I hand her the glass with a reassuring smile and I take out a pair of comfy clothes and head to the bathroom to change.

I see the airhostess from earlier, holding out a Ziploc bag for me. She smiles at me sympathetically and says, "Its such a shame that I have ruined a beautiful saree. Please forgive me.".

"Well, it was my fault. You have nothing to be sorry about. But can you please help me fold this damn thing?", I ask her putting my best puppy face.

She takes the mess of a saree from my hand and folds it like an expert. She hands it over to me with a promise of getting another glass of whiskey after I've settled comfortably in my seat. I pull my blanket tighter around me as I watch Anne Hathaway walk into a fashion magazine office in her horrible excuse of a formal skirt. As promised, the sweet air-hostess hands me drink, carefully this time and leaves with a goodnight.

"She's too young, Appa*. She just graduated. She wants to be an achiever, write books, change lives and inspire people. You can't ask her to get married."

"I'm bound by the promise your mum made to them, Soumya."

"I wanted to wait until she told you this, but she has been accepted to University of Athena in Winterford, England."

"What? No way. You know I'll do anything to keep my promises. Even if it means to sacrifice my daughter's dreams."

"But it's her life!!"

"ENOUGH. She will marry him next week and that's final."

I wake up with a jolt, sleepy and disoriented. I must've fell asleep midway through the movie. I look up and see the end credits rolling. I sit up feeling hungry and I notice a middle-aged Indian lady staring at me. She looks at my pajama pants and frowns. Her frown deepens as she sees my neck. Her eyes move up to my face and she realizes that she has been caught. She pretends as though nothing happened and smiles broadly at me. Warily, I return the smile.

"Are you here with your husband, beta*?"

"Huh?"

"Are you guys going for your honeymoon? Where is he?"

"What do you mean?"

"He has left you all alone, that too in these clothes, without your mangalsutra.*"

She looks at me like I'm an abomination and proceeds to give me a fake smile.

"Ohh. I would've loved to introduce you guys to one another. But he isn't here."

"Is already waiting for you in England?", she asks with an eager smile.

"Nope. I left him in India. At the mantap.*"

She looks appalled as she realizes what I meant.

I smirk as I say "You'll probably still find him waiting if you go back. Maybe you could marry him? You guys are perfect for one another. You both just can't keep your noses to yourselves."

She just blinks as she takes in all that I said and just turns away and leaves me alone for the rest of the journey.

I look at the clouds from the windows and feel all my worries slip away as we go further and farther away from India. It is time for me leave my past life behind and embrace a new one. Embrace a new identity.

TRANSLATIONS:

Appa- Father.

Beta- Son. Here, child.

Mangalsutra- A sacred thread that is tied to the bride by the groom as a sign of their holy matrimony.

Mantap- The Hindu version of an altar when two people get married.

________________________________________________________________________________