Week 5: Self-crossed

I have decided that I’ll do The 52 Project story wise. Since I can’t write a story per week, I’ll just write 52 stories over a period of two years or so.

So here’s story 5.


  I looked at the girl in the mirror. She wore a pouffy white dress. She had her hair done specially for this occasion. She wore Cinderella slippers (the glass kind, not the wool kind). She was glowing.
  She was me.
  I could almost imagine it. I would walk out of this room. My dad would be waiting outside wearing a sharp penguin suit. For once, he wouldn’t be making any jokes. He might even be a little teary eyed. Dad would clasp my hand tightly in his and lead me into the church. My sister, Gabrielle, would be walking in front of me wearing lilac. Lilac looks absolutely revolting on her. For once, I won’t be in the danger of being upstaged. It will be my day and no one will be able to steal my thunder.
  I would enter the church and ancient Mrs. Geller will be playing the bridal march on her equally ancient piano.  Everyone will turn and look at me, eyes ablaze with amazement. But my eyes will be fixated on one person. His eyes would be telling me that we’d made it. Our love for each other will become tangible in the air…
  The excited knock at the door snapped me out of my reverie.  Amy swooped in wearing the actual wedding dress. She was lit up like the New York skyline.
  Amy was the one with the bridal spark in her eye. Not me. My eyes could only be described as melancholic.
  I never would have imagined my eyes as melancholic. Yeah, they had been described as mischievous and they were said to have the wild look on more than one occasion.  But not melancholic, never melancholic.
  And my dress? It was just a color pretending to be white but not quite succeeding.
  Logically, I was supposed to hate Amy.
  She was the one who was going to make a decent man out of Ollie. She was the one who was going to marry him, have his kids and grow old with him.  She was going to be his wife, his other better half.
  But I didn’t.
  Her bridesmaids wore dresses that actually looked good on them.  There’s nothing more that I can say about her. She is actually that nice.
  And she made Ollie happy. I could already feel myself disappearing from his life. My existence was already less connected to his.
  That felt different. Ollie and I had been inseparable for a greater part of the 27 years of our lives.
  Ollie. Oliver. For me, he was still the laughing boy who had pushed me into Sally Malone’s pool when I first moved to Haven. We had been together through it all- childhood, puberty, first kisses, college, a bit of adulthood. Ollie had been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He had always been there for me and I had always been there for him.
  And now, he was getting married. We had talked about it. He had assured me that nothing would change. That we would always be best friends, no matter what.
  That would have even been possible if I wasn’t so hopelessly in love with him.
  Don’t we take people for granted?
  Don’t we cling to the belief that they are going to be there forever?
  The worst part?
  Amy was too darn awesome. Hating her or even disliking her had been impossible. And despite my best efforts, we had become good friends. Good enough that I was her maid-of-honor.
  Not that she hadn’t had enough candidates. She knew how important it was for Ollie that I would be a part of their wedding.  Ollie had actually wanted me as his best man.  The problem was-
a) I wasn’t a dude.
b) I looked way better in a dress than in a suit.
c) Female strippers did nothing for me.
  So I became Amy’s bridesmaid, soon promoted to chief bridesmaid. All the thanks go to her sister getting knocked up.
  As brides go, Amy was fun. She definitely wasn’t a bridezilla. Also, she actually ate the cake at her tasting. I trust people who refuse to refuse cake.
   She hadn’t freaked out. Not once. But she was totally freaking out now. Amy was afraid of screwing up. She was afraid that she was going to forget her wedding vows.  Or that an ex-girlfriend of Ollie would do a ‘speak now’ and Amy would be left with blood on her dress and handcuffs around her wrists.
  I tried my level best to carry out the bridesmaid duty. She didn’t calm down. What if Ollie didn’t show up?
  I assured her that he would. He was absolutely nuts about her. He looked at her in that special intense way that made her flush. Every time.
  I had always wondered, how would it be to be on the receiving end of one of those looks.
  Her hurried flow of words was interrupted by another knock at the door. Ollie peeped in. Amy shrieked and tried hiding under the bed. I held her and prevented the disaster called wedding dress and dirt.
“I am not looking! I am not looking!” yelled Ollie but by then Amy had gone on the offensive. She grabbed the huge pillows off the bed and hurled them at his head.  She was yelling something that sounded like a battle-cry.
  “I’ve just come to claim back my best-friend. Do you want me to have a black eye?”
  “C’mon Ollie! They’re just pillows! Your penguin suit made you a sissy?” I said, putting myself between them. I had a very risky and difficult job indeed.
  “Oh, it’s on.” He grabbed me and pulled me out of the room. I followed him to a deserted staircase with an open window.  He spent a few moments inhaling and exhaling. I gazed at him as his breath escaped his lips as white tufts of air. It was snowing already and Ollie was bracing himself.
  Finally, he spoke.
  “I can’t believe it! I’m actually doing this…”
  Don’t get your hopes up, Chloe. Just don’t.
  “I am actually getting married! When  we were kids, I always thought we’d end up together. And then I found Amy…”
  “You are a lucky guy. Amy is awesome. I’m leaving you in good hands.”
  “What? You’re leaving?”
  “No! Just that she can take over the job of babysitting you.”
  “It’s not like that Chlo. You’ll always be an important part of my life. You’re my best friend.”
  “Yeah. But you will have a wife in some hours. Wife trumps best friend.”
  “Nothing’s going to change. You’ll always be my girl.”
  “Aww Ollie. Aren’t you super sappy today?”
  “C’mon Chloe! I am getting married today! You’ve always been my rock. And, today, I need you more than ever. Emotions aren’t your enemy, you know.”
  “I am here, aren’t I? Ollie, you’ve always been my rock too. But now, you’ve got a new rock. Anyway, it’s time. Let’s go.”
    I could see it. Amy walked out of the room. Her dad was waiting outside wearing a sharp penguin suit. For once, he wasn’t making any jokes. He was actually a bit teary eyed. Amy’s dad clasped her hand tightly in his and lead her into the church. I was walking in front of her wearing my pretty dress. I didn’t look horrendous but no one in the room held a matchstick to Amy. She  definitely wasn’t  in the danger of being upstaged. It was to be her day and no one dared to steal her thunder.
  The ceremony went exceedingly well. The rings were remembered and procured on time. No one forgot their vows.
  And I didn’t start singing ‘Speak Now’. God bless Taylor Swift. She had a song for every damn occasion.
  It was so difficult to believe. Ollie was someone’s husband. He just felt so grown up now, a man.
  Well, when he was not trying to taste the icing off the wedding cake.
  Amy found him. Then those sneaky conspirators planned to creep into the kitchen and eat a piece of the wedding cake. I found out and averted the disaster.
  If I was the one getting married, there wouldn’t be any cake left. No matter who tried to stop me. Ollie and I would have been successful.
  But I wasn’t the bride so disaster averted.
  Amy went to change before the first dance. The dress was too pouffy for her moves. Ollie went to loosen his bow tie. They always made him feel terribly constricted.
  I walked to the door.


  Wow. I was actually married.  I felt like the luckiest SoB in the world except mum was a perfectly lovely lady.
  But at the same time, I felt …sad. Yes, it was weird. I had fooled a gorgeous, smart, kind woman into becoming my wife and here I was, moping around.
  That was because I knew.
  Today was the day…today was when Chloe would leave. She never even hinted. But I knew.
  Chloe was the person in question. My Chloe. How could I not know?
  Yeah, she was my best friend.  But she was more than just a best friend.
  She was Chloe.
   Mischievous, wild Chloe who was the definition of trouble. It wasn’t that she broke the law or something.
  It was just that she seeked an adventure everywhere. My basement, her attic, the supermarket, nightclubs, here, there, everywhere.
  She did the craziest things but always landed on her feet.  Literally.
  Like the time when we were learning skateboarding and Jimmy Kendall dared her to try one of those dangerous, professional skateboarder slopes. Any of us mortals would have at least broken an arm upon taking up this dare.
  Not Chlo. She didn’t even get a scratch.
  Jimmy Kendall was impressed and saved her a seat on the bus for over a week. A seat which she never took. We had been a team, Chloe and Ollie.
  From the day Chloe hit puberty, I had guys asking me whether Chloe and I were, you know, together. We never were.
  Chloe was a light that attracted many moths. All of them were burned.
  I had gotten a really great deal. God, Amy was amazing. I love her so much.
  But what I felt for Chloe was different. She was Chloe. What else can I say? She was Chloe. Amy understood.
  I knew though, that this day would come. One day, Chloe was going to get bored of seeking adventures here, there and in this limited everywhere. I knew Chloe would want the world. So I decided not to want her.
  She was destined for great things. Who am I to challenge destiny?
  It was snowing again. The white tufts made this day truly magical. I leaned on the balcony railing, watching the winter wonderland.
  I saw a human shaped whiteness rush stumble towards the gate. She hesisted just before walking out but she never looked back. I didn’t ask for a goodbye. It would  have killed both of us.
  Instead I watched her leave, dragging her suitcase behind her.

Weddings: White and Indian ones

I am a girl. I have thought numerous times about the time when I get married, if I do. And I’ve decided that I don’t want a big wedding. Just a court marriage and then a big delicious dinner which I can enjoy.

In a big fat Indian wedding, the bride and (I think) the groom are supposed to fast till they get married, then get married, snap loads of pictures and finally have the lunch/dinner after everyone has left.

I don’t want that!

My favourite part about an Indian wedding is when the bride’s brother twists the grooms ear. It’s his way of saying-Treat my sister well, or I’ll kick your ass.

Then is the food part. Food is an extremely important part of an Indian wedding. It defines the status of the wedding. Non delicious food can make you gossip fodder for years to come. Indians need food like the Dothraki need killing at their weddings.

So basically, the bride and the bridegroom decide a really yummy menu with all of their favourite dishes and then they end up eating the leftovers.

Maybe most of them are just too happy that they are married and that the guests enjoyed themselves. Whatever. Not me.

When I get married, I actually want to enjoy my wedding and food is a big part of the enjoyment process. Hence the court marriage and the dinner.

Why is an almost eighteen year old talking weddings?

I was watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. just now. Ross was getting married to Emily (his second wedding). She wore a beautiful white dress. She looked so damn beautiful. All brides do. They get this magic glow which works better than any kind of makeup. The bride is undoubtedly the most beautiful woman in the world at that moment.


The thing is, I want that too.

I want to be a beautiful bride with a happy blush. Someday. But I want it bad.

And I want my sister (because I’m a feminist and my sister is bad ass) to twist his ear.


So back to Friends. I got it when Emily got mad when Ross said “I take thee, Rachel.”  Any girl would. Usually I love Ross (although Chandler is my Friends’ guy). But at that moment, he was an arse. Big time.

All this wedding talk, and I’m not even of the age. There’s plenty of time. But, oh dear God, white weddings make me swoon.




And this-
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❤ ❤

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❤ ❤ ❤

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Kate Hudson’s dress in Bride Wars ❤


How can I forget Duchess Kate?


Cakes are very important too-




Indian brides aren’t far behind-



I think Jodha ie Aishwarya Rai Bachchan from the movie Jodha Akbar makes a stunning bride-


Also this! ❤


Do weddings make you swoon?


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