SIXTEEN

HER POV

I took slow, hesitant steps toward the dining hall, each one feeling heavier than the last. My heart wasn't in it, but I forced a small smile onto my face, hoping it would be enough to hide the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside me. I could feel the weight of unspoken words pressing down on my chest, but I kept moving, pretending everything was fine-even when it clearly wasn't.

Bua ji was watching me with that all-too-familiar look, her voice dripping with fake sweetness that could give diabetes a run for its money. She smiled like she genuinely cared, but the sarcasm in her tone was barely hidden-as if she was doing me a grand favor just by acknowledging my existence. Honestly, if her sugar-coated words got any thicker, I'd need a shovel to get through them.

I finally reached the dining hall, and before I could even take a proper breath, Bua ji greeted me with her trademark fake-sweet voice, the kind that could fool anyone who didn't know her better.

"Idhar aao, beta," she cooed, stretching the 'beta' like it was dipped in honey-too sweet to be real. I gave her a tight-lipped smile, already bracing myself for whatever backhanded compliment or passive-aggressive remark was coming next.

{"Come here, dear."}

I walked up to her, keeping my expression neutral, but before I could even say anything, she raised an eyebrow and said,

"Pair kaun chhooyega, haan?"

{"Who's going to touch the feet, huh?"}

Her tone was sharp, laced with that same performative sweetness that barely masked the judgment underneath.

With a tight smile, I bent slightly, just enough to brush my fingers near her feet without actually touching them. She, of course, noticed.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but her lips stretched into that same fake smile.

"Aaj kal ke bachche," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

{"Kids these days..."}

"Sanskaron ki kami hai, par kya karein, zamana hi aisa hai."

{"There's a lack of values, but what can we do - the times are like this."}

I straightened up, still smiling, though my patience was wearing thinner by the second.

"Bilkul, Bua ji," I replied sweetly, my voice laced with the kind of sarcasm that could rival hers.

"Aap toh sab samajhti hain."

{"Absolutely, Bua ji."}

{"You understand everything."}

Her smile faltered just a little-but only for a moment. The war had begun, and both of us knew it wouldn't be fought with shouting, but with smiles sharper than knives.

She gave a light chuckle, the kind that sounded more like a warning than amusement.

"Zyada samajh gayi hai ab toh," she said, tilting her head slightly, eyes scanning me like I was a misbehaving student who needed fixing.

{"Now she's understood a bit too much."}

"Sasural jaake sab theek ho jayega. Wahan zubaan apne aap control mein aa jaati hai."

{"Everything will be fine once she goes to her in-laws'. The tongue naturally learns to behave there."}

I felt the burn of those words settle beneath my skin, but I refused to flinch. Instead, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and smiled even brighter.

Before I could say anything, Bua ji turned to Dadu, her voice suddenly louder, as if she'd been waiting for an audience.

"Papa, main toh kehti hoon Isha ki shaadi kar deni chahiye. Itni badi ho gayi hai, ab aur kitna padhegi?"

She let out a theatrical sigh, shaking her head like she was deeply concerned for the nation.

{"Papa, I say we should get Isha married. She's grown up enough - how much more is she going to study anyway?"}

"Ladkiyan zyada padhti hain na, toh muh chalaane lagti hain. Abhi se dekh lo iske tevar... Aap hi samjha lijiye isko."

{"When girls study too much, they start talking back. Just look at her attitude already... You should be the one to explain things to her."}

The moment the word shaadi slipped out of Bua ji's mouth, my heart skipped a beat. It was so sudden, so sharp-it felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs.

And before I could even process it, His face flashed in my mind. Those deep, unreadable eyes... the way he looked at me like he knew more than he let on. I didn't know why my mind went straight to him, but it did. Instinctively. Uncontrollably.

As Bua ji continued talking about rishtas, each word felt heavier than the last. I could hear her saying things like "ladki badi ho gayi hai," and "rishta aaya toh haan keh deni chahiye," but all I could think about was how Veer's name had once been whispered in hushed tones around the house... connected to mine.

I quietly sat down beside Mom.

Her presence was the only thing that felt steady in that moment-as if just being close to her could anchor me.

Suddenly, I heard Dadu's voice -calm, composed, but loud enough to reach.

"Rathores ke yahan se rishta aaya tha... or isha is baare mein soch rahi hai."

{"A proposal came from the Rathore family... and Isha is thinking about it."}

I don't know why, but the moment I heard it-my stomach flipped.

Butterflies.

Not the sweet, fairytale kind. The chaotic, uncontrollable kind that made it hard to breathe. The thought of marrying him-sent a strange shiver down my spine.

And the worst part?

I hated it.

I hated that my heart reacted before my mind could shut it down. I hated that his face, his voice, his everything suddenly felt closer than ever.

Why him?

Why did the idea of being his something make my pulse race and my head spiral?

I bit my lip, trying to steady myself.

"Kya? Rathores?

{What? Rathores"}

Bua ji almost shouted her voice was laced with a strange mix of shock and disbelief. Her eyes widened, her brows shot up, and for a second, she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

Then came the jealousy. Subtle, but unmistakable. That twitch in her jaw, the tight smile she forced as she quickly composed herself.

"Woh toh bahut bade log hain... unhone Isha ke liye rishta bheja?"

She almost choked on the words, as if her pride couldn't digest the sentence.

{"They're such a big, respected family... and they sent a proposal for Isha?"}

"Haan, dosti ko rishtedari mein badalna chahiye,"Dadu said softly, his tone thoughtful, calm.

{"Yes, friendship should turn into a relationship now."}

"Par tabhi jab bachche raazi ho."

{"But only when the children are willing."}

Those words hit differently. They lingered in the air like a quiet truth no one could argue with.

Dadu looked at me and gave me a soft, reassuring smile.

And just then...

Before the warmth of that moment could settle in, Bua ji jumped in again, her voice sharp and laced with disbelief.

"Par Papa, aap seriously soch rahe hain is rishte ke baare mein? Rathores ne Isha ke liye rishta bheja, ye baat hazam hi nahi ho rahi!"

{"But Papa, are you seriously considering this proposal? The Rathores sent a proposal for Isha- I just can't wrap my head around it!"}

I felt that familiar sting in my chest again-the way she said my name, like I was unworthy of something good, something big.

But Dadu didn't flinch. His smile didn't fade.

I looked at Mom and Dad-they were quietly eating, not saying a word. Not because they didn't care, but because they knew this conversation didn't need their interruption.

They had let Bua ji say whatever she wanted about me, let her vent, let her throw around her opinions like facts-because deep down, they both knew...

In the end, the decision would be mine.

They didn't need to defend me,

Because they trusted me enough to make my own choice. And maybe, just maybe, they trusted themselves enough to let me.

************************************

I had finished my dinner, but Bua ji's tantrums about my marriage just wouldn't stop.

And i sat there, silent, my head slightly lowered, but every word she spoke kept stretching my patience thinner and thinner.

I walked into my room, shut the door behind me, and collapsed onto my bed with a deep sigh.

Everything felt heavy-my mind, my chest, my thoughts.

And then suddenly... something clicked in my head.

Like a spark.

Like an itch I couldn't ignore.

I sat up, grabbed my phone, and quickly opened Ruhi's story.

But-

The story was gone.

Deleted.

I just wanted to see HIM in that story.

And now that it's gone?

It's ridiculous how disappointed I feel.

Why do I care so much?

Why was I so desperate to see him?

What is wrong with me?!

I dropped my phone on the bed, threw an arm over my eyes, and groaned,

"Oh God... I seriously need therapy."

And i didn't even realize when I fell asleep while lying on the bed.

One moment I was lost in thoughts, and the next... everything just faded-my questions, my restlessness, even the noise in my head.

All that was left was a strange kind of exhaustion-the kind that comes not just from the body, but from the heart and mind too.

NEXT MORNING:

I woke up the next morning expecting the usual Mumma's voice acting as my daily alarm, calling out from the kitchen or asking if I was awake yet.

But... silence.

Wait.... where's mumma?

That one thought pulled me right out of sleep. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and got ready in rush. Picked out an elegant outfit for college.... nothing extra.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, i hurried downstairs.

Dadu was sitting in the living room peacefully sipping his tea with the newspaper in his hand, looking like he had already solved half the world's problems before breakfast.

I walked up to him and asked,

" Dadu, Mumma kaha hain?"

{""Dadu, where's Mumma?"}

"'She has gone to the Rathores' place," Dadu said casually, taking another sip of his tea.

And just like that-my heart skipped a beat.

Why?

What for?

Was this about... me?

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady... but it still came out broken.

"K-kyu?" I asked, my throat suddenly dry.

{"Why"}

Dadu calmly folded the newspaper, placed it on the side table, and looked up at me with his usual composed smile.

"Shivanya ne bulaya tha," he said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

{""Shivanya had called her."}

I wanted to ask more-so many questions were still lingering on the tip of my tongue.

But then I glanced at the time.

I quickly composed myself, forced a small smile, and said,

"Okay, Dadu... I'm leaving for college."

And just like that, I turned around-carrying a storm inside me, pretending everything was fine.

AUTHOR'S POV

RATHORE MANSION:

The grand hall of the Rathore mansion echoed with elegance - high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers, antique wooden furniture polished to perfection, and large windows that let in streams of golden sunlight. Amidst this grandeur, Shivanya and Ananya sat gracefully on an intricately carved sofa set, their delicate cups of steaming tea held with quiet poise.

Surrounded by a few well-dressed ladies of the society, the air was filled with gentle laughter and the soft clinking of china. The aroma of freshly brewed tea mingled with the subtle hints of jasmine perfume and old-money charm that the mansion seemed to naturally exude.

Just then, one of the ladies turned to Shivanya with a curious smile, gently setting her teacup down on the saucer.

" Waise, Veer kaha hai dikh nahi raha?" she asked, her tone laced with mild curiosity and a hint of teasing.

{"By the way, where's Veer? Haven't seen him around."}

Her words hung lightly in the air, and a few of the other women glanced toward Shivanya, their interest piqued. It was a casual question, yet it carried that subtle undertone of societal intrigue - the kind that always circled around eligible young men from powerful families.

Shivanya's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a polite one.

" Wo london gaya hai business ke kaam se "she said calmly.

{"He's gone to London for some business work."}

"Ohh," Ananya nodded, understandingly.

After the soft echoes of laughter and conversation faded from the grand hall and the group of ladies gracefully made their exit, the space settled into a calm silence.

Shivanya took a small, careful step toward Ananya, her eyes searching hers for a moment as if trying to find the right words. There was a quiet tension in her posture - not heavy, but enough to make her seem a little more vulnerable than usual. Her voice, though soft, carried a certain seriousness as she spoke.

"Ananya," she began gently, pausing for a second before continuing

" Mujhe aapse kuch zaruri baat karni hai" She glanced away briefly, then looked back, her eyes holding a flicker of emotion she rarely showed.

{"I need to talk to you about something important."}

" Haan kyu nahi " Ananya said softly, sensing the weight in Shivanya's tone.

{"Yes, Why not"}

"Okay," she added after a brief pause, her voice turning gentle, "but not here... let's go to the garden."

Ananya gave a small nod in agreement, and without saying another word, both of them quietly turned and began walking toward the garden, their footsteps echoing softly through the marble floor of the grand hallway, as if the walls themselves were listening.

The garden was breathtaking - a serene haven tucked behind the grandeur of the Rathore mansion. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the subtle fragrance of blooming roses, jasmine, and marigolds. Rows of vibrant flowers stretched out like a painted canvas, their colors dancing under the golden afternoon sunlight.

There were stone pathways winding through the greenery, leading to cozy corners with wrought-iron benches and intricately carved swings draped in ivy. A small fountain stood in the center, its gentle trickling sound adding a peaceful rhythm to the air. Birds chirped softly from the trees above, and the entire place felt like something out of a timeless storybook - calm, elegant, and untouched by the outside world.

Shivanya and Ananya walked slowly through the lush surroundings, the silence between them comfortable yet expectant, until they reached a quiet spot near the fountain. They sat down on a cushioned bench framed by bougainvillaea vines, ready for a conversation that seemed long overdue.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. The silence hung gently in the air as they both sat still, their eyes quietly taking in the beauty of the garden - the swaying flowers, the soft breeze, and the golden sunlight filtering through the trees. It was peaceful, yet there was something unspoken resting heavily between them.

Finally, Shivanya broke the silence, her voice soft and unsure.

"Ananya... tum to jaanti ho na is rishte ke baare mein?"

{"Ananya... you do know about this proposal, right?"}

She didn't look directly at her - just kept her gaze ahead, as if the words were easier to say without eye contact. There was a vulnerability in her tone, something rare for someone who always seemed so composed.

Ananya gave a slow, understanding nod, her expression softening as she looked at Shivanya.

"Veer ki shaadi ko lekar mujhe hamesha chinta rehti hai," Shivanya said, her voice low and thoughtful as she stared at the garden path ahead.

{"I've always been worried about Veer's marriage."}

"Ek toh wo khud shaadi karna nahi chahta... aur jo rishtay aate hain, wo hume pasand nahi aate."

{"First, he doesn't want to get married... and the proposals we do get, we don't like them."}

"And you know, when I met Isha... I don't know why, but there was something different about her. It felt like she carried this quiet warmth - like she could light up a room without even trying. Almost like an angel... someone who brings peace just by being there " she continued

She turned to look at Ananya, who had a small, knowing smile on her face - the kind that said she understood every unspoken emotion behind Shivanya's words.

"When I first heard about this proposal," Shivanya said softly, her voice filled with quiet emotion, "something in me just felt... maybe she's the one. The one who's truly meant for my son - the perfect match."

She paused, her eyes drifting thoughtfully toward the garden.

"Not just for his name or the family... but for his heart - the one he keeps locked away from everyone."

"I just want to say," Shivanya spoke gently, turning back to Ananya, "please talk to Isha about it. Not to convince her or force anything... that's not what I'm asking."

Her tone was sincere, almost pleading in its softness.

"If she agrees to this marriage," Shivanya said with a soft, hopeful smile, "there won't be anyone happier than me."

Ananya, still wearing that gentle smile, looked at Shivanya and replied softly,

"Humne already Isha ko is rishte ke baare mein bata diya hai."

{"We've already told Isha about this proposal."}

There was calm assurance in her voice, a quiet understanding of the depth behind the conversation.

"Ab sab kuch uske decision par hai... lekin main itna keh sakti hoon, uski aankhon mein maine inkaar nahi dekha."

{"Now everything depends on her decision... but I can say this much - I didn't see a 'no' in her eyes."}

Shivanya smiled warmly at her, the tension finally easing from her face.

"Aapke muh mein ghee shakkar," she said with a playful grin, nudging Ananya lightly.

{"May there be ghee and sugar in your mouth"}

The moment broke into laughter - soft, genuine, and full of relief. The kind of laughter that comes when hope returns after a long silence.

They sat there for a little while longer, chatting about little things - memories, family, old stories - the kind of light conversation that fills the air with comfort after a heavy one.

Eventually, Ananya glanced at the time and stood up with a warm smile.

"I should go now," she said softly. Shivanya nodded, standing with her.

With a final hug and a few parting words, Ananya took her leave, walking away through the garden path as the golden sunlight filtered through the trees, leaving behind a quiet sense of calm and hope.

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