I was flabbergasted. I need to change my name. I wasn't aware of it. I know they are traditional, they value our culture and roots. But this... I look towards my husband.
One who hasn't spoken a single word with his wife since the wedding. Hoping he'll say something, oppose this, but silence was all I got.

"Maa, I don't want to change my name." I hesitantly spoke.
"You will be known as Daughter-in-law of this house. Your identity isn't separate from ours. The world will know you as Vallabh," Dadamaharaj said in his authoritative voice, leaving no room for refusal. He urged Panditji to go ahead.

After looking at the charts he spoke, "From my knowledge, the name which suits hukum is Ahilya."
"Ahilya Pratap Vallabh, perfect," Maa speaks with a smile.
Everyone dispersed after panditji left. I don't understand why I need to change my name. I'm Vrinda, a name given by my father.
Even Pratap said nothing.

"I know what you're thinking." I turned to see Maa by the stairs.
"When I got married, I went through the same."
"Yet you did nothing?" She smiled.
"My situation was different. I was in no position to say anything. But for you, I tried but failed.
Beta, I know you find it unfair, but Dadamaharaj will never agree. He is a traditional man. He's the scion of the family. His words are final. These traditions, rituals are dear to him. But he is not unjust. He always sides with what's right."
I looked at her confused. Her words are paradoxical. How can a man rigid and out of touch with traditions be fair and just to anybody?
"With time you'll understand everything. Once you assimilate into this family maybe you can change whatever is wrong."
Well, there's nothing I can do about it. My family didn't ask me before saying yes for this marriage, it's futile to think they'll support me in this case. For them, it's not even an issue. And if my blood can't, how will these people understand me?

Day goes by in a blur. I got dolled up by a stylist in the evening for the reception.
Standing in front of all these people I felt out of place. People from other royal families, political leaders, bureaucrats, business owners, philanthropists, people from art communities.

Some Gujarati folk singers were singing beautiful melodies, while I get introduced as Ahilya Pratap Vallabh, daughter-in-law of this palace. Some congratulate us with extra warmth, some with a fake smile.

My family came to meet us. And my husband bends to touch my dadu's feet. He knows how to respect elders at least.
"Kunwar-sa, don't touch my feet. You are our hamara. My blessings are always with both of you."
Pratap left to talk with some business people after a polite conversation.
"How are you? Did they treat you well?" Maa asked.
"They changed my name," I solemnly said.
"That's a ritual. You're very lucky, Vrinda, that you got married into this family."
"Ahilya," I heard someone calling but ignored it.
"Yes, lucky enough that everyone decides for my future but me," I taunted.
"I know you think we should have waited. Par aise rishte baar-baar nhi aate. You got married into a royal family. They have reputation, riches, and respect in society, what else do you want? They usually marry within their own community. But the Vallabh's themselves came and proposed marriage. Now be a good daughter-in-law. Don't let them question our upbringing."

"Ahilya, I'm calling you," Prakam said coming closer to us.
And it dawned on me that Ahilya is my name.
What more is ahead? I don't know, but the future seems different from anything familiar I've ever known.

"Come, Dadamaharaj wants you to meet some people."
My maa beckons me to go.
"Nambiyar are important associates. Also, family friends. They are a kind of link between us and our buyers abroad," Prakam briefed me about the guest.
As we walked forward I see a middle-aged couple standing beside Dadamaharaj and a girl my age next to Pratap.
"Shantanu, meet our daughter-in-law Ahilya," Dadamaharaj introduced. I joined my hands in greeting. My eyes catch a glimpse of envy in the girl's eyes, while the couple smiled, which I can tell was very fake.
"Ahilya, they are associated with our business since decades. This is Mr. & Mrs. Nambiyar and their daughter Sara."
Dadamaharaj left to meet other guests, while we stand there awkwardly.
"Hello Ahilya, I'm Sara, Pratap's friend."
"Hi," I smiled.
"It came as a surprise. You know, your wedding," she said while looking at Pratap.
"You look too uninterested in marriage." She patted Pratap's biceps while laughing softly.
From the way I'm watching, he seems too uninterested in her words too. He pleads with his eyes to Prakam as if telling him to take this annoying woman away. And he did, leaving me alone with my husband.

"It seems you don't like her."
"Looks like everyone knows but than her." His words made me smile.
"Can I ask you something, Mr. Vallabh?"
"Yes, Mrs. Vallabh."
"You can call me by my name."
"So can you." I bite my lower lip, embarrassed.

"She said you were not interested in marriage," I asked only to get interrupted again. Pratap was called by some old friends.

I wonder why every time I want to have a conversation with my husband, somebody comes and interrupts it.
Though, this small conversation makes me believe he's not that rude. Maybe he has some reason for his prior behavior. He was respectful with my family too.

Soon after, we were led to the dance floor. As it's our wedding reception, we were asked for the first dance.
Being this close to him, my eyes never left his face. He is so good looking, had a boyish charm in his appearance. But his eyes were focused on the crowd surrounding us. Not once did he look at me.
We danced barely some minutes when he excused himself.

Everybody occupies the dance floor, while I stood at the corner.
"May I dance with you, beautiful?"
I found Prakam with his one hand stretched out for me to take while the other rested at his chest as he bows.
I slide my hand in his with a smile. He begins to sway us to the melody.
"My brother is a little khadoos, isn't he?"
"You are calling your brother khadoos?"
"I mean, look at him instead of dancing with you, sir is busy attending calls. Anyway, my condolences, as you have to be with that man forever. He always wore an expression like he's constipated."
I laughed.
"You sure he's your brother, or one of you is adopted?"
A minute of silence passed, and then he speaks with a smirk, "What do you think?" he answered with a question of his own.
"I think you do look alike, but personalities are poles apart."
"By the way, can you help me knowing his likes and dislikes?"
"Aha huh! Trying to be a good wifey. He likes nothing and dislikes everything, if it helps."
"Yeah! Sure, you helped me big time." This time he laughed.

With music came to an end. I look around to see my husband, but he was nowhere to be found.
Maa introduced me to some of the guests. Finally, I saw my husband when we were dining. He remained silent throughout the dinner.
After midnight, the party got over. After changing into comfortable clothes, I came to the bedroom, I saw him, clothes changed, sitting on the bed.
When he became aware of my presence he turned.
"Tired?" I questioned looking at his red eyes, they looked exhausted.
"Hmm," he just hummed. Next, he slipped under the blanket ready to sleep.

I watched him sleeping. No, I'm not a creep. But in 20 years of my life, I never held a man's hand let alone share a bed with one.
I sat on the bed, took a deep breath, and lay down beside him.
Only now, it came to my notice that he had a huge circular mirror at the ceiling.