Pranay’s pov

Leaving that village was the best decision I ever made.

I was eighteen when I packed my bags and walked away, determined to build a life beyond the dusty roads and endless traditions that bound people there. I wanted more - more than just survival, more than just doing what everyone else did. I moved to the city, studied hard, and got a job that paid for my needs.

But that job? It never felt like mine.

Every morning, I woke up feeling like a machine, earning just enough to keep going but never truly living. That’s when I made the decision to follow my passion - photography. What started as a small step turned into something much bigger. I began taking pictures at small functions, weddings, celebrations - anything that gave me the chance to do what I loved. And people loved it.

Now, I own a studio. I have a team of five working under me, handling everything from wedding shoots to professional portraits. My passion didn’t just give me happiness - it gave me success.

But yesterday, I got a call that pulled me back to a past I had almost left behind.

Uncle wants to meet me. In that village. Tomorrow.

He didn’t say much over the phone, but I already know what this is about. Marriage.

My parents died when I was young. I barely remember them, except for bits and pieces - my father’s laughter, my mother’s warmth. After they were gone, I grew up in an orphanage run by Uncle, my father’s best friend. He took care of me, gave me a home, a chance to study, and a family when I had none.

And now, he wants me to fulfill a promise my father made years ago.

A marriage arranged before I even understood what marriage meant. The moment she was born, our fathers decided we would belong to each other one day. It was meant to be a bond between two families, between two friends who wanted to become one family.

They wanted this marriage to happen two years ago when she finished school. But back then, I wasn’t financially stable. I couldn’t accept the responsibility of a family when I could barely take care of myself.

Now, I have no excuse to refuse.

But the thought of it bothers me.

I don’t even know what she looks like. I have never spoken to her. And they won’t even let me talk to her before the wedding.

What kind of tradition is this?

That village… it still feels too old-fashioned, stuck in another time while the world moves forward. They get their daughters married as soon as they turn eighteen. They don’t send them to college. They don’t let them step outside much.

I don’t know anything about her, except that she’s the girl I’m supposed to marry.

And tomorrow, I will be stepping back into the world I once left behind.

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