At last, my father nodded in agreement. After a long search, our family met Rekha — a woman 20 years younger than my father, gentle, honest, and a kindergarten teacher in Jaipur. Rekha had never been married before and said she was willing to care for my father and become his companion.
Worried about my father’s loneliness in old age, we arranged his marriage to a young woman who was 20 years younger than him. On the wedding day, he happily took his bride to the wedding room. A short while later, we heard Rekha crying. When we opened the door, we saw her curled up in the corner of the room, while my father…
My father’s name is Narayan Ji. He is 65 years old and lives in Jaipur, Rajasthan. He is a strong-willed man who has seen many ups and downs in life, yet he still carries a hopeful spirit.
My mother passed away when my younger brother and I were still children, and my father raised us alone with immense love and sacrifice. For many years, he refused to remarry, saying that we were more than enough for him.
But after we got married and had children of our own, my father gradually grew quieter and spent more time alone. He would sit for hours by the window, silently watching the streets of the Pink City. Whenever we visited, he would laugh loudly and talk cheerfully; but once we left, silence would fill the house again.
I didn’t want my father to remain lonely forever. After much discussion, my younger brother and I decided to find someone who could become his companion and care for him in old age. At first, my father strongly opposed the idea, saying he was too old and didn’t need to marry again. We patiently explained to him:
“Not just for you, but for us too. When someone is with you, we feel more at ease.”
The Wedding
According to Hindu traditions, the wedding day was beautiful. Under the mandap, my father wore a new sherwani that made him look much younger. The bride, Rekha, wore an elegant cream-white sari. They walked around the sacred fire, and my father carefully tied the mangalsutra and applied sindoor to her forehead. Relatives blessed them, amazed to see my father glowing with happiness again.
After the celebration, my father happily took the bride to the wedding room so quickly that everyone burst into laughter. I joked with my younger brother:
“Look at Dad! He seems more nervous than on his first wedding day.”
My brother patted my shoulder and laughed:
“He’s almost 70 and still so energetic!”
Everything seemed fine… until about an hour later.
We suddenly heard Rekha crying from inside the room. The whole family froze in shock.
“Dad! What happened?”
No one answered — only sobbing could be heard. I pushed the door open and went inside.
What I Saw Inside
The scene in front of me stopped me in my tracks.
Rekha was sitting curled up in the corner of the room, her eyes red, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, breathing fast. My father sat on the bed, his clothes slightly disheveled, his face filled with confusion and worry. The air felt heavy and tense.
I asked softly,
“What happened?”
Rekha’s voice trembled:
“I… I can’t do this… I’m not used to it…”
My father whispered, his face turning red with shame:
“I had no bad intentions… I just wanted to hug her. She started crying loudly, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do…”
The Morning After
The next morning, when things had calmed down, I sat down with both of them and spoke gently:
“It takes time to adjust. No one should ever be forced into something they are not ready for. From now on, you should start slowly — talk to each other, take morning walks together in Central Park, cook meals together, watch TV together. If you feel comfortable, hold hands, lean on each other. And when it comes to intimacy, let it happen naturally when you are both ready. If needed, I can seek advice from elders or a marriage counselor.”
My father sighed, his eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t expect it to be this hard… I had forgotten what it feels like to share life with someone.”
Rekha nodded softly.
“I’m nervous too. I don’t want to make uncle uncomfortable. Please… give me more time.”
We agreed that they would sleep in separate rooms for now, prioritizing each other’s comfort and maintaining gentle boundaries.
That afternoon, I saw them sitting together on the balcony, making hot tea and talking calmly about the garden and the children at Rekha’s kindergarten. There were no more tears — only soft conversation and shy smiles.
The Lesson We Learned
A marriage between a 65-year-old man and a 45-year-old woman is not defined by the wedding night, but by the patience of everyday life — by respect, listening, and learning to walk together again.
And we, as children, finally understood something important:
Helping our father did not mean pushing him into marriage in a hurry. It meant walking beside him in small steps, helping him heal from loneliness with warmth, dignity, and care.