Personal Narrative: The Day My Sister Met Her Husband

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I’ll never forget the day my sister met her husband for the first time. But I’m getting ahead of myself; I’ll start from the beginning.
Being six years older than me, my sister behaved more like a second mother than the older sister she was. I was a mischievous child and she was the only one who put up with my antics in our orthodox household, even protected me on most occasions, taking the blame for multiple broken glasses and slipping away for movies we were forbidden to watch. She was my best friend.
A week before she met him, our parents met his. It was the custom that the parents approve the marriage beforehand, so nobody found it strange that the couple didn’t meet first. In fact it was so normal that I didn’t think much of it when they told me, or when my sister gave only a half-hearted smile of acceptance in response.
When our parents returned, their faces were flushed. There were dark circles of sweat …show more content…

My mother had bought my sister new silver bangles to wear with a peacock blue “salwar kameez”, and I have to admit I was quite jealous of how beautiful those bangles were. I whispered to her how I couldn’t wait till when it would be my turn to be the pretty bride. My sister summoned a plastic smile in response.
“Samosas” were bought, tea was made, and our expensive plates were brought out of the cupboard and cleaned: the ones only used on special occasions for special guests. Even I had got new clothes to wear for the occasion. My parents revelled in the knowledge that the boy was a prized catch and that their daughter was his “chosen one” from a host of other girls that he had been offered.
On the much awaited day, as soon as I heard his car turn into our driveway, I ran up the staircase, taking two stairs at a time, to call my sister. Downstairs everyone was in a tizzy, making final adjustments to cushions or checking if there was water to drink in the living

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