As the reality of the night ahead settled in, I could not help but feel a mix of fear and excitement.
"Auntie," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, "what if it hurts?"
Aunt Neelima leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. "It might," she admitted, "but only for a moment. The pleasure that follows is unlike anything you have ever felt. And remember, I will be with you. I will make sure he is as gentle as possible... Moreover, I tore your hymen the other day… so it will be smooth."
Her words were a comfort, but I could not shake the anxiety that had taken root in my stomach.
"What if? ... what if? I don't know how to please him." I asked, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Aunt Neelima chuckled, her hand moving to caress my cheek. "Myra, you're a natural. Besides, he will show you everything you need to know. Just follow his lead and let your instincts guide you."
Her thumb traced the outline of my jaw before she leaned in to give me one final, lingering kiss. "You're going to do wonderfully," she whispered against my lips, her eyes gleaming with confidence.
With that, she released me and stood, her movements graceful despite the urgency in her voice.
"We must prepare," she said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. "The night is approaching, and there's much to do before we can begin the ceremony."
I followed her back to the house, my mind racing with questions and anticipation. The air was thick with the scent of the herb garden, and the fading light cast an almost mystical glow over the path. I felt as though I was walking towards a destiny that had been waiting for me, a destiny that would forever change the course of my life in the all-female village of Paankpada.
As the reality of what was to come began to sink in, I could not help the tremor that ran through me. I turned to Buriya, the woman who had been so kind to me since my arrival, and asked with trepidation, "Buriya, is this... is this ethical?"
Her eyes, filled with a knowing warmth, met mine in the flickering candlelight.
"My child," she said, her voice gentle, "in our village, we live by different rules than the ones you know from the city. Our men are often away for work, leaving us to find companionship elsewhere; due to this, girls, daughters-in-law, or women from good families often have relationships with other men… Even if this is adultery, this practice has been quietly accepted in our society…"
Her words were a soft echo of Aunt Neelima's earlier explanation, but hearing them again brought a new understanding to the surface.
"This... this is what happens here?" I whispered, trying to comprehend the magnitude of it all.
Buriya nodded, her expression a mix of acceptance and sadness. "It's a quiet truth, but one we accept for the sake of our hearts and the village's prosperity."
I took a moment to let her words sink in, feeling the weight of the centuries-old tradition that surrounded me.
Despite the apprehension, I found myself nodding.
"I... I understand," I murmured, though the full implication of what was being asked of me had yet to fully register.
With a gentle smile, Buriya took my hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "Good," she said, "now, let us complete your preparations. The night is upon us, and there is no turning back."
Her words were a gentle push, urging me to accept my fate. And as I allowed her to lead me through the final steps of the ceremony, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. Perhaps it was the herbs, or perhaps it was the knowledge that I was not alone in this, but I knew that whatever the night brought, I would face it as the woman I had become in Paankpara.
As I sat in the dimly lit room, the scents of the elaborate meal being prepared for my patron wafted through the cracks in the closed windows, making my stomach rumble despite the simple fare set before me. The rice, pulses, and vegetable curry that filled my plate were a stark contrast to the rich aromas outside. Yet, the simplicity of the food was a stark reminder of the sacredness of what was to happen tonight. Each bite was a silent promise to myself to be brave and to embrace the ancient customs of this mysterious village.
As I ate, I heard a soft knock on the door, my heart skipping a beat. Could it be my patron already? I wondered with a mix of excitement and dread. But then the hushed tones of Aunt Neelima and another woman, the other woman's voice sounded familiar too.
Buriya excused herself from my side and peeked through the crack in the door. Upon returning, she gave me a knowing smile and a nod.
"It's not him," she assured me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "It's just some of the other ladies coming to wish you luck and offer their blessings."
Her reassurance was a balm to my nerves, and I managed a tentative smile. The thought of the villagers supporting me in this intimate rite of passage brought a sense of comfort and belonging.
The food tasted like nothing I had ever had before, each bite imbued with the love and anticipation of the evening. As I finished the last morsel, Buriya took my plate away and began to dress me in the most exquisite garments I had ever seen. The fabric was whisper-thin, clinging to my curves in a way that made me feel both exposed and powerful.
The knock came again, this time with the low, gruff voice of a man on the other side. My heart thudded in my chest, and I could see the excitement in Buriya's eyes as she went to answer it.
Would I be able to go through with this? The fear was palpable, but so too was the anticipation. This was my destiny, as chosen by Aunt Neelima and the whispers of Paankpara's ancient traditions.
I was asked to stay behind closed doors, and as the main door of the house opened, I held my breath, waiting for the moment that would forever alter the course of my life.
The moment the door opened, I felt a rush of cool evening air, carrying with it the scent of the night-blooming jasmine from the garden. But it was the sight before me that stole my breath away. Aunt Neelima was standing there, her hand outstretched, her smile as bright as the moon rising over the distant hills. And beside her, a figure emerged, a woman whose face was so familiar it was like looking into a mirror—my own mother.
The shock was so profound that my knees threatened to give way. "M-Mother?" I stuttered, my voice barely audible.
Aunt Neelima stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Yes, my dear," she said, her voice a soft caress, "your mother is here to bless your union tonight."
My mother, whose eyes searched mine, looked just as surprised as I felt. She had come from the city, where she had been living, to be a part of this? The room seemed to spin around me as I tried to make sense of it all.
Aunt Neelima took my hand, her grip firm yet comforting. "You are ready," she said, her voice filled with a strange blend of authority and tenderness. "Tonight, you will experience the true meaning of womanhood, a bond shared by the women of Paankpada for generations."
Her words hung in the air, a declaration of fate that seemed to echo the very beating of my heart. I felt the weight of the village's expectations, the unspoken understanding that this night would be the pinnacle of my transformation.
My mother approached me, her eyes filled with a mix of love and something else—pride, perhaps? She took my other hand, Aunt Neelima ritualistically gathered my open hair at the base of my nape and held it in a ponytail by the clutch of her hand, and together, we followed Aunt Neelima to the chamber where the ceremony would take place. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the anticipation of what was to come.
The room was dimly lit by flickering candles, the walls adorned with ancient tapestries depicting scenes of love and union. A large, ornate bed lay in the center, its sheets a vibrant red that matched the color of the sari I now wore.
As we reached the bedside, Aunt Neelima turned to us, her smile softening. "Tonight," she said, her voice a whisper, "you will become one with the man chosen for you, and through him, with the spirit of this village."
To be continued
