Deela stood nervously in front of the mirror, her heart racing like a wild stallion as she took in the reflection of her wedding day attire. The crimson sari, studded with glittering jewels, hugged her curvy body like a second skin, accentuating every contour. She felt like a goddess, ready to embark on the journey of a lifetime. Little did she know, this journey would be far from what she had ever imagined.

Her mother had always spoken of a peculiar family tradition, something whispered about in hushed tones. But Deela, lost in the blissful fog of her upcoming nuptials, had paid little heed to the cryptic warnings. Her uncles and male cousins had always been affectionate, perhaps a touch too much so, but she had dismissed it as mere familial warmth. Now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and purple, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had been growing in the pit of her stomach all day.