For what seemed like hours, she had waited after the day’s ceremonies upon her marriage bed. Seated thereon with the skirts of her brocaded lehenga spread about her, she cuts an irresistible picture.
She draws her translucent dupatta over her face and bosom, as fair as they are handsome, in anticipation of what is to come. As her groom steps into the room and walks up to her side of the bed, she looks up to greet him with all the welcome of a new, beauteous bride.
He is no less handsome than she. Attired in complete wedding finery, from the turban and the richly embroidered tunic to the statement shoes that were all the rage in medieval India, he regards her with equal parts tenderness and equal parts uninhibition, as occasioned by their first night together as wedded life-companions.
In fact, from the language of their bodies, it could be deduced that he is striking up a conversation with her, in an effort to make things easy for the pristine one who has left all that she has ever known to be with him.
The bed they are on is upholstered in silk and gold, decorated with a carefully done enclosure of flowers. A tray of refreshments next to the bed to sustain them in the course of a long night, and a multi-dia lamp in the foreground to add to the mood.
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