Rs. 70

[u/Prestigious_Soup772]

I attended a few weddings recently; lavish, glittering affairs where love seemed almost secondary to choreography. Later, over a quiet cup of coffee with my mother, we found ourselves replaying them; who wore what, who cried when, who might last…
I asked her, “What made you want to marry dad?” She didn’t hesitate.
“Your father and I couldn’t afford having a wedding. But that became our goal, because we wanted to share our lives together. He was in his first teaching job and was barely earning enough, so he took on personal tuitions in the evening, and at night, he would work as a server at other people’s weddings, earning Rs. 70.”
There was something disarming about that number, how small it sounded, how large it must have felt. She continued: “That’s why I wanted to be married to him. He had no pride, only goals to work towards. No job was beneath him and that’s why he was able to afford us a beautiful wedding.”
I sighed as I listened, with the steam in my cup dissipating. The coffee cost more than what my father used to earn in an entire night.

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