Thinking that their current house was too small to host Jaya’s wedding, Contractor Bhaskar shifted the family to a distant, new house. Deprived of all opportunities to meet each other like they used to at the old house, Manoj and Jaya flailed and gasped in agony, looking like fish out of water. Little did they know that this friction was ignited by Jaya’s younger brother, Sudhir, after his trip to Delhi and the Agra Taj Mahal.

Sujatha was completely stunned to see Contractor Bhaskar’s sudden, frantic efforts to arrange a marriage. "What is the great rush for Jaya’s wedding?" asked Sujatha, Jaya’s mother, suspiciously.

"We have to marry her off and send her away sooner or later, don't we! If we start looking from now, it will take its own time to find a suitable match," Contractor Bhaskar replied.

Ever since they moved houses, Jaya had been acting strange. She wasn't eating properly. Manoj kept calling her repeatedly. How could they tell him that Jaya wasn't home? Every time Manoj called, Sujatha herself had to call out, "Jaya, it’s for you," and hand over the phone. They would talk about who knows what.

Since the marriage alliances began coming in, Jaya had remained completely lost in her own thoughts. Her face looked as if she had lost everything... Even when told to get ready to go out, she would remain utterly indifferent and unmoving. Sujatha’s maternal heart ached with worry.

Sujatha debated with herself whether or not to ask about Manoj and Jaya’s love and finally decided it was best to bring it up.

"Manoj is a boy we have known since childhood, isn't he! Jaya likes Manoj. Why give Jaya away to some total stranger and regret it later? It would be best to marry her to Manoj, whom she loves, right! Ever since we shifted houses, she hasn't been eating or acting normal."

Bhaskar had never anticipated that Sujatha would question him so directly.

"Sujatha! These loves are not things that last forever. Just because they live close by, and have known each other since childhood, they hang out together and mistake friendship for love. That age is just like that. How long can such romances truly endure? Aren't we seeing it all around us? Even people who marry out of love end up separating, don't they? When youngsters fall in love while holding temporary jobs... living as dependents, and confined in mental isolation, they mistake the restlessness brought on by their age for love. This is merely a problem stemming from a desire to escape loneliness. These attractions and preferences do not last a lifetime. All these emotional infatuations are temporary! Ultimately, only the bonds of marriage endure. For love marriages to survive as husband and wife, one must mutually respect each other's habits, upbringings, and cultural backgrounds. More than anything else, financial stability, social status, and mutual understanding are absolutely essential.

You know the old proverb, don't you? 'Give your daughter to a grand house but bring a bride from a humble home.' We must give Jaya into a family that has risen higher than ours. Our Jaya, who is accustomed to a certain standard of living, will spend her entire life looking toward us with longing if her new home lacks financial stability. But unable to beg due to her self-respect, she will wither away in agony within herself. There is a grave danger that she will fall into despondency, constantly regretting that she made a mistake. All that frustration will manifest as anger, impatience, and discontentment toward Manoj in various ways, making life even more miserable and driving them apart.

The mutual attraction they feel right now is momentary. Do not underestimate the financial pressures and professional stress faced by today's youth, which their restless age cannot handle. Psychologically, these pressures strain the relationship between a husband and wife. Haven't we seen so many such instances? Families that are financially stable can comfortably forget everything, at least by the time the children grow up, and live happily for the sake of social status. As parents, we must liberate them from these infatuations and illusions and guide them to a stage where they can face real life. It is not right for us to give in just because they claim to be in love.

"...If even we yield to this, it would be like a doctor suffering from the very same agony as the patient. I shifted this house solely keeping Jaya’s best interests in mind. But after all, isn't Manoj just like a son to us? I took this decision only because I care about Manoj’s future and well-being as well," Contractor Bhaskar went on and on, rationalizing his choices by expounding his worldly philosophy of life in various ways.

Sujatha felt a heavy ache in her heart. But countering his shrewd, calculated arguments was simply beyond her capability. The children were completely innocent. They were children who had grown up right before their eyes, inside the secure walls of the house. Overwhelmed with profound distress, Sujatha wiped her tearful eyes with the edge of her saree pallu and walked heavy-heartedly into the kitchen.

When her desperate attempts failed, Jaya threw a stubborn tantrum, pestering them, "I will stay in Hyderabad with my elder brother, Vijayendar, and pursue my studies there." Jaya fondly hoped that by being in the city, she could at least find a way to meet Manoj. However, when Vijayendar flatly refused her request, grumbling that his personal privacy would be ruined and his secrets might be exposed to light, Jaya was left utterly devastated, completely clueless about what to do next.

~*~

That fateful day arrived—it was Jaya’s wedding.

To ostentatiously showcase his elite stature as an 'A-class' contractor and a wealthy industrialist, her father, Bhaskar, had orchestrated everything with unparalleled pomp, grandeur, and sheer extravagance...

There was a massive influx of affluent contractors, wealthy landlords, prominent industrialists, Mandal Presidents, influential MLAs, ministers, and high-ranking bureaucratic officials. Countless relatives... childhood friends and associates from far and wide... hundreds of luxury cars and sleek motorbikes lined the venue...

The atmosphere was dense with a dazzling array of fashionable dresses, shimmering jewelry, and loud, welcoming greetings... Casual chatter and lively conversations echoed from every corner. There were rich silk sarees, elegant chudidhars, traditional lehengas, modern kurtis, contemporary jeans, casual t-shirts, grand ghagra cholis, half-sarees (langa-vonilu), and flowing frocks... Girls and young women adorned the hall—some with ringlet curls and bouncy tresses, others with free-flowing cascading hair, neat ponytails, elaborate hairdos (talakoppu), sophisticated French plaits, traditional double braids, and those youthful maidens who had half-folded their beautiful hair and secured it casually with a clip.

It looked as though parents had lovingly brought their young daughters of marriageable age along, gently coaxing, advising, and dressing them up flawlessly, as if presenting them at a grand, formal matchmaking convention. Within that vibrant gathering, youngsters belonging to that specific age group stood out prominently, capturing everyone's attention.

On one side, VVIPs were seated comfortably in plush, cushioned sofa chairs.

Relatives occupied the front rows... and on both sides of the wedding mandapam, close blood relations gathered...

Women sat in the front chairs... while young mothers followed their bustling, restless children around, trying to soothe them. There were blouses cut in V-necks and U-necks... necklaces, Chandraharams (moon-shaped layered chains), Lakshmiharams (coin necklaces with Goddess Lakshmi motifs), emerald haorams, pearl haorams; and around the necks of married women, sacred pusthela thadu (marriage discs) intertwined with black-beaded chains. There were gold kankanams (bangles), maatileelu (ear-chain extensions), joints/sheerlu, gold vaddanams (waistbands), gold bangles, vankilu (armlets), papidi billalu (maang tikka/forehead ornaments), bracelets, anklets, toe-rings, and on the feet of a few, heavy gold anklet chains... It looked as though some had practically drenched and loaded themselves in a kilo... a whole kilo of gold jewelry... For the ears, there were buttaalu (jhumkas), hangings, studs, rings, hoops, and pendants... It felt as if a grand court had assembled in one place, filled with diverse fashions, women of all ages, and young girls...

On the other side, there was a crisp rustle of starched and ironed formal suits, blazers, boots, t-shirts, jeans, khadi dhotis, and khadi shirts...

At the entrance, sweet rose water was being sprinkled... welcomes were extended with fresh red roses... and beautifully dressed young women from the event management team were running around busily managing the floor...

The chanting of wedding mantras continued non-stop. The rhythmic beat of bhaja bhajantrilu (traditional wedding drums) and the melodious tunes of the nadaswaram filled the air... alongside the hurried movements of videographers and photographers...

Sujatha had adorned her neck with five to six layers of exquisite jewelry. Wearing a heavy gold waistband over her rich silk saree, she looked as if she was playfully competing in beauty with the bride herself, Jaya. Bhaskar, dressed in silk robes with a matching kanduva (sacred shawl) draped over his shoulder, was busy welcoming everyone with warm greetings, close embraces, and affectionate handshakes (alay-balay)... requesting the guests to take their seats. Vijayendar and Sudhir were roaming around restlessly with their friends, stealing side-glances toward the girls of their own age group... and the moment the girls looked back, they would quickly turn their heads away and walk forward... Everywhere was a chaotic celebration; wherever one looked, joy blossomed like a flower in full bloom...

The event servers were busy carrying tomato soup (ganji) in cups, and fresh fruit juice in glasse

On the plates, Chicken Manchurian and Veg Manchurian were continuously served. Children were eagerly and enthusiastically taking them. A few guests were polite and hesitantly declining them.

On the other side, in the dining hall, there was a vast array of diverse dishes... served in a buffet style where people stood in long queues, fetching whatever they desired... moving around to search for and pick items from where they were kept. With over 35 varieties of items, the whole scene looked overwhelmingly chaotic and confusing. Everything looked so appetizing that one felt like eating it all. Guests were utterly unable to decide what to eat first... and found themselves at a loss to figure out where each item was placed.

There was Chicken Biryani, Mutton Biryani, Bagara rice, White rice, pooris, chapatis, rumali rotis, Chicken fry, Mutton fry, fish fry, Egg fry, Mushroom (puttagodugulu) fry, dalcha, raita, curd...

On another side, for the vegetarians, there was Aloo Tomato fry, Bhendakaya (okra) fry, Dondakaya (ivy gourd) fry, Beerakaya (ridge gourd) with green peas curry, sambar, rasam, Palak Paneer, Aloo Biryani, Jeera rice, Pulihora (tamarind rice), White rice, five to six varieties of chutneys/pickles... papadams... curd, and so on...

On yet another side, twelve varieties of fruits were being sliced and served on plates. Right next to that was fruit salad, and right beside it was ice cream, three varieties of sweets, and kheera (cucumber) sweet... Paper napkins were placed at all spots... and finally, sweet paan, saunf (fennel seeds), and the like. Warm greetings and pleasantries were exchanged everywhere... hustle and bustle echoed in every corner...

Because of a friendship spanning decades, the families of Principal Ramachandrayya, Madhavi, Manasa, M.E.O. Sattayya, Anuradha, and Ramya rejoiced at Jaya’s wedding with the same happiness as if it were their own daughter’s marriage. They had completely immersed themselves in this wedding work for the past three days.

The marriage alliance was fixed in a great hurry, the wedding was performed, and Jaya’s married life was set to begin in Hyderabad... Jaya’s husband, Ratnakar, owned several individual flats along with three apartment buildings in Hyderabad. Their married life was to be in a flat located in Himayatnagar... while Vijayendar resided on this very street, just a few lanes away.

The elders believed with a strong conviction that once children have their own kids, they will eventually adjust and settle down. Their estimate was that memories would gradually fade away over time. And thus, in every generation, love stories continue to vanish, failing to ever reach the stage of marriage.

None of them—Jaya, Niharika, Vijayendar, Manoj, or Ramya—could attain the life they had truly desired for themselves. Why their lives had been altered in this manner remained a profound question... and within each of their hearts, a silent, deep ache lingered.