Death at a wedding…

“Guess what? I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to do it” he told us with a smile.
“You’re an idiot. You’ll regret this for the rest of your life asshole!” I retorted, then burst out laughing at the sight of his face.
Bunty looked offended by my remark. “I’m sure he’s got that chick pregnant” Neel commented.
Well, his stupid remark then triggered off an exchange of insults between Bunty and Neel. Bunty, eventually mortified by the perverted insults Neel would come up with, would give up . Neel was invincible at these face-offs. His skill is best defined by an Anglo-Indian phrase, “no one could take his trip”. I could go on and on about our lack-of-life fights, but well it would take a decade. The three of us did have a lack in life, and many of our ex-girlfriends would agree.
Anyway, we were at our favourite tea-shop, near our office. Bunty had treated us so we knew he wanted something or he had done something wrong with one of our computers and wanted us to take the blame for it. The three of us worked at a call centre. Neel and I would handle the computers and the calls. Bunty, was an intern, and like most interns in our city, was in-charge of the supply of tea and cigarettes (We paid, of course. Bunty was always bumming).
Enough background information, back to the story now. I was in the middle of gulping down some tea when Bunty told me the news. “I’m going to run away and get married!” he exclaimed.
I spat my tea out at him. I know, it seems to surreal to be true bit I actually did that. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he screamed in protest.
I didn’t reply. I just realized he was being serious. “Bitch your getting married and you buy us the cheapest cigarettes you can lay your hands on?” said Neel.
I guess he still didn’t get that Bunty was actually being serious for once in his life. “You know I could have bought you some poison if you wanted to end your life. A marriage is pretty expensive, not to mention slow and excruciating” I said hotly.
The bloke was an idiot. He was barely twenty-three years old. Neel was twenty-one. “Look” he said making sure we were paying attention. It worked. Neel was quiet which meant he was being serious now. His face suddenly looked impassive. “I’m doing this whether you want me to or not. You can be friends and support me or be the usual dicks you’ll are and joke about it. I love this girl with all my heart” he said before storming out, slamming our table for a melodramatic effect.
The cheap idiot didn’t even pay the bill! In spite of that I felt bad for him. I knew how people could make impulsive decisions when they were in love. I also knew how it could ruin their life. “What do you think man?” I asked Neel.
“Don’t know. I mean how can he get married? He barely earns enough to buy proper cigarettes every day. Have you seen the cheap shit he smokes?” The three of us were chain smokers and could convert money into cigarettes in a jiffy.
“Look man either way we aren’t his parents, we have to help him instead of judging him” I said, sounding unconvinced by my own words. How right was this entire ‘wedding’? What if Bunty had children? Would he be able to feed them? Get them into a good school? All I knew was that Bunty was going through a tough time and needed us. I didn’t know at that time that these questions did not need answering. Bunty was going to run away with his wife the very same day forever. Only instead of running to his parent’s house as planned, his misadventures were taking another route.

*

The funeral, like any other funeral, was a sad one. Bunty's parents were crying. His dead wife’s parents had not come to the funeral out of fear. There were a lot of Bunty's relatives who refused to bury the axe, and were still seeking revenge. Neel paid his tribute to Bunty by singing a song, tears slithering down his cheeks as the words flowed out of his lips enchanting everyone, making the moment all the more special.
I looked at the coffin, at my old friend that lay there now. The blood from his wounds no longer tarnishing the jovial friend we would remember. I still remember Joseph recounting his death, his eyes moist and even dreamed of it for several nights. “I won’t let her go”. He challenged the crowd of angry relatives, “I will die trying to marry her”. I see the crowd beating him, tearing him away from his beloved Mariam. I hear him shouting a loud “No” and occasionally her name. After the crowd was done beating him, I see my old friend, with just a whisper of life left in him. He struggles, as he manages to utter one last word, her name, before he lets the angels take him away. I also dream of Mariam. I see her pouring the oil over her. Before she lights it with the lighter Bunty had used to light hundreds of cigarettes, she smiles and says, “Patience, I’ll be with you soon”. Even Death failed to make her renounce her love. Her love was stronger than fear. Love was a virtue worthy of God himself. What could mere mortals do to separate two lovers?

*

I walked out of the church, the sun shining in my eyes. I had just realized my old friend was dead. Killed because of an old tradition, a tradition so ancient and so stubborn, it had damned progress in our country. My friend had died for love.
Suddenly my phone beeped. An old girlfriend, I liked a lot just messaged me. “Hope you’re alright. Love you. Take care.” said the message. I thought a while before asking her to meet me. I would need a ring soon. My friend had died for love, I would live for it. Before leaving the church for the ring shop, I smiled. “For you old friend, this one’s for you” I thought. Thinking that, I walked away. Bunty freed me.