"No one wanted you, huh?" she asked, her voice sounding too loud in the desolate room. Letting the necklace dangle from her finger, she watched as the sunlight passed through the stone. "I'm sorry, I don't think any of the pictures I took did you any justice."
Lowering her hand to place it back into the jewelry box, she briefly imagined what would happen to the necklace after she gathered and donated the rest of the items no one wanted. It would probably sit for years on some shelf with tons of other old cheap jewelry before eventually being tossed for trash or ending up in someone else's collection of never-worn items. Running her fingers over the odd carvings once again, she felt a tinge of sadness for the necklace's fate.
Making her decision, Nadira grabbed both sides of the corded loop and held it wide before slipping it over her head. Immediately, she felt unexplainably happier with the decision and tucked the necklace into her blouse. Glancing at her watch, she jumped up at the time. Making quick work of the rest of the room, she dragged everything into the living room and added it to the already large donation pile. Stuffing the baggies of claimed jewelry into her bag, Nadira made a mental note to stop off at the post office after school tomorrow.
Locking up the empty house, Nadira rushed next door back to her house and up to her room. Her heart tightened at the thought of seeing Kedar again. The last time she saw him was at his and her sister's wedding. She had never seen a man look more handsome in a sherwani than him, embroidered with deep garnet reds and sparkling golds set against the bright crimson silk of the jacket he had looked like a prince out of a storybook. She had spent most of the ceremony cloistered deep in the reception hall's kitchen feigning the look of an overly helpful sister dedicated to helping make sure the ceremony went perfectly, all the while stealing secret glances at the man that should have been with her instead of with her sister.
Shutting her room door softly, Nadira grabbed her best saree from the closet and laid it on the bed. The gorgeous orchid pink crepe fabric of her scarf matched beautifully with the white and pink floral skirt and solid pink blouse. Opening the drawer to her dresser vanity that sat across from the end of her bed, she laid out her makeup. Removing her newfound necklace and placing it on the dresser, she removed her clothes and pulled on her robe. Walking quickly to the bathroom, she took a quick shower and washed her hair. There was a giddiness to her step while her heart felt like a lead weight. After drying her hair, she leaned against her vanity with both hands and she took a deep breath. Why was she acting like this? Looking at the makeup she carefully laid out and glimpsing at the pink material in the reflection behind her, she closed her eyes at the feelings of guilt and shame.
"You're being pathetic," she whispered to herself. "He is married to Nazma now."
Swallowing the lead weight in her throat, Nadira looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes took away from her once bright wide-eyed gaze. Thin and little hollow looking, her face seemingly took the brunt of her drastic weight-loss, leaving her looking far too tired for a twenty-four-year-old college student. Running a brush through her drying hair, she poured some hair polisher in the palm of her hand and ran the clear serum through her wavy hair, hoping that it tamed her usually frizzy black locks at least for a couple of hours. Carefully applying her makeup, she did her best to cover the dark circles of fatigue while keeping an eye on the time. If she didn't hurry, she was going to hear one of her parent's scream up to her, demanding she come down and help them.
Standing up, she turned to grab her saree when she spotted the reddish hue of the stone necklace. Picking it up, she ran a thumb over the textured surface of it, feeling immediately calmer by the rhythmic motion. Slipping the cord over her neck she let the stone rest between her breasts. The flash of the green glowing numbers of her alarm clock on the dresser vanity startled her back into motion, dressing quickly she slipped on a pair of plain sandals and went downstairs.
**
Looking across the dinner table, Nadira had to clench her free hand in her lap until she felt the sharp pain of her nails bite through the skin just to keep herself from rolling her eyes at her younger sister. Sitting diagonally across from her, Nazma rattled onto her mother and father about the "wonderful" time during their "exquisite" honeymoon in Jamaica. With their mother sitting to Nadira's left and their father sitting at the head of the table to her right, that left Kedar directly in front of her. She could feel his gaze subtly shifting to hers throughout the meal and Nadira could not help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he think about their first and only date three months ago how they both talked the whole night about esoteric architects and places around the world they both wanted to see? Or was he contemplating how brutally painful it must be to sit across from the person you were so sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with, but after days of silence and no calls returned, you were told by your parents he chose your sister instead? Steeling herself to the familiar aching pain, Nadira didn't allow a trace of it to show on her face as she kept her face turned politely towards her sister as the girl recounted the beauty of their suite.
Wearing a deep shimmering royal blue lehenga with large embroidered gold details that sparkled in the light and a matching dupatta, her sister sat in her chair as if she was sitting on an elegant throne and not a simple dining room chair. Her sister had always been that way, with her chin held high and her nose upturned to the sky, Nazma walked through life as an empress merely temporarily gracing the lower caste with her presence. Nadira did not need to look to her right to know that her father was looking at his youngest daughter with his customary pride and adoration. Samad Razdan doted on the girl ever since Nadira could remember, nothing was out of the question for his beautiful daughter. Nazma was the photo he showed his colleagues at the Codec Laboratories, where he worked as a facilities engineer, the perfect bragging rights for a man without a son. Nadira knew without a doubt that her father likely spent an obscene amount of money paying for the couple's honeymoon on top of the outrageous over the top wedding.
Thankfully their mother wasn't so smitten by her youngest daughter's charms. Raised in a poor village just outside of Jammu and Kashmir, their mother wasn't necessarily smitten with anything in life. Obtaining her MBA on scholarships while pregnant and immigrating to a new country, Candrii Razdan was the true head of the table in this family. Tough, brazen, and never one to mince words, Candrii's only goal was to see her daughters married and bearing children soon after. That was why it came as no shock to Nadira when her mother ruthlessly accommodated Kedar's request to change sisters, rather than sit and hope that an interested man from a good family and good-paying job might take a chance on their plain and quiet daughter, why not accommodate his request and direct him to the daughter that was born to be wed. To her mother, feelings could always be mended later, but time would not wait and time was the number one enemy to a young woman's prospects.
Feeling more than dispirited from her thoughts, Nadira reached for the basket of hot naan bread sitting in front of her.