The day came when Amara was to meet Raj for the first time. Her parents arranged a small dinner gathering at their house, expecting both families to come together in the spirit of celebration. Amara, with her modern dress and bold attitude, stood out in the sea of traditional attire that filled the room.
Raj entered the house with his parents, and Amara was immediately struck by his presence. He was tall, well-dressed in a sharp suit, and had an air of quiet confidence. But it wasn't just his looks that caught her attention—it was the sadness in his eyes, the sense of being trapped in a life he hadn't chosen. They exchanged pleasantries, but neither of them felt the excitement or chemistry that people spoke of when it came to love at first sight.
After the dinner, they were left alone in the garden, the sounds of their families fading into the background.
"So, how does this work?" Raj asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Amara looked up, surprised by his directness. "What do you mean?"
"Arranged marriages. How do we make it work when we don't even know each other?" Raj's words hung in the air like a challenge.
Amara sighed. "I don't know. My parents expect me to go along with this, but I don't know if I can. I want something real, something that feels like love."
Raj nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I don't know if I can give you that, Amara. I don't even know if I can give myself that."