Neelima Verma The Wedding Dream The mehendi hadn’t yet faded from her palms when Siya stepped into the grand foyer of her new home—her new home. The deep maroon stain curled along her fingers in delicate paisley patterns, a reminder of the rituals, the singing, the whispered jokes between cousins, and the scent of jasmine that still clung to her hair. Her wrists were heavy with glass bangles, red and gold, and they jingled with every hesitant step she took across the marble floor of the Malhotra mansion. Her heart fluttered with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. At…