In India~
Sunlight spilled through the curtains, landing right on my face, nudging me awake. I slowly opened my eyes, realizing I had no memory of when I'd actually fallen asleep. The weight of last night's conversation still lingered, heavy and unshakable.
Dragging myself out of bed, I headed to the bathroom. The cold water did little to calm the storm brewing in my head. Every word from the night before kept repeating itself, louder and heavier than before.
Once ready, I got dressed and stepped out of my room. As I made my way to the dining area, I saw Papa and Bhaiya already sitting at the table, quietly reading the newspaper. Mom was in the kitchen, busy cooking breakfast. No one said anything. Neither did I.
Without a word, I picked up the pooja thali and walked to the temple. A few moments of peace, that's all I needed.
When I returned, Mom called out, "Beta, have some breakfast."
"I'm not hungry, Maa. I'll eat something at the canteen," I replied quietly and turned to leave.
Back in my office cabin, I sat in silence, staring blankly at the files on my desk. My thoughts were a tangled mess. Everything around me felt distant, muted-like I was present, but not really there.
Suddenly, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen. Akansha. My best friend.
For a second, I didn't feel like answering. I just wasn't in the mood to talk. But after the third ring, I gave in and picked up the call.
"Oye pagal! Are you crazy? Why weren't you answering? I've been calling since forever!" she scolded, half worried, half annoyed.
"Just like that... talk to me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
She paused. Her voice softened immediately. "Hey... are you okay? Did something happen?"
I couldn't say a word. My throat tightened, and before I knew it, silent tears began streaming down my cheeks.
"Saanvi? Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, clearly alarmed.
Still, I said nothing. I just let the tears fall.
"I'm sending you the café location right now," she said urgently. "Come meet me. Please."
"...Okay," I whispered, barely audible
Akansha looked at Saanvi with concern deepening in her eyes.
"Okay, now tell me-what's going on?"
That was all it took-Saanvi broke down completely.
Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to find the words.
"I... I don't even know what's happening, Akansha. Everything's happening so fast. One moment everything was normal, and now my parents are forcing me to get married. I never even got a say in it..."
She covered her face with her hands, her voice shaking.
"I just don't want to get married. Not now,not ever."
Akansha gently reached out, holding her hand.
"Saanu, please... stop crying, yaar."
Saanvi let out a shaky breath, trying to control the sobs.
Akansha gave her a soft look.
"Look, I know it feels like everyone's against you right now. But just take a moment and think... maybe your parents are just thinking about your happiness. Maybe they saw something good in this family. They want you to have your own family, your own life."
She paused, her voice turning softer.
"And our parents-no matter how pushy they get-they never really want anything bad for us. Right?"
Saanvi sniffled and gave a small nod.
"All I'm saying is... don't rush your decision. Think about it with a calm mind. And whatever you decide, I'm with you. Even if you want to run away from your own wedding, I'll be there with the getaway car," she joked, trying to make her smile.
And finally, Saanvi did smile-a small, tired one, but real.
"Now no more tears, okay?" Akansha said, wiping one away. "You don't look cute when you cry."
Saanvi chuckled softly and nodded.
With Akansha by her side, things didn't feel quite so overwhelming anymore.
It had been almost a week since I landed in Spain. I hadn't come here just for work-no, I came here to escape. To run from the chaos that had taken over my life back home. I buried myself in meetings, site visits, and endless files just to silence my thoughts. The more I kept myself busy, the less I had to confront the things I was trying to avoid.
Family. Marriage. Expectations.
I didn't want to think about the confrontations around the dining table, the way I walked out of the house that night, or the look in my father's eyes when I shouted that I wasn't going to marry anyone. Every time those moments flashed through my mind, I distracted myself with something-anything.
Now that all the meetings were wrapped up and the deals signed, there was no more work left to use as a shield. I had no excuse to stay any longer. It was time to return.
I boarded my private jet, settled into the leather seat, and leaned back, trying to let the soft hum of the engines calm my racing thoughts. I closed my eyes for a moment, but peace was short-lived.
My phone buzzed.
I glanced at the screen: Shaurya calling.
I hesitated for a second. He had been calling me repeatedly for the last several days. I had ignored every call, every message. But this time, for some reason, I picked up.
"Yeah?" I answered flatly.
"Oye, where the hell have you been?! I've been trying to reach you for a whole damn week!" he said, his voice full of mock frustration.
"Is there something important?" I replied, clearly not in the mood for small talk.
"Wow. No 'hello,' no 'how are you,' huh? Straight to the point as always," he said with a chuckle. Then, his tone shifted. "But yeah, there is something. Something important."
I sighed. "Don't start with the lectures, Shaurya. I'm already done with everything."
"I'm not here to give you gyaan, Viyansh," he said calmly. "I just want you to listen for once. Uncle told me everything."
I closed my eyes briefly, already regretting picking up the call. "So now you're on their side too?"
"No, I'm on your side. That's why I'm calling. But sometimes, being on your side means telling you the truth, even when you don't want to hear it."
I didn't respond.
"Look," he continued, "your dad... he's not trying to control your life. He's just trying to make sure you don't end up alone. He's seen what loneliness did to you, Viyansh. He's watched you suffer in silence for years. The man just wants to see his son happy. Is that really so wrong?"
His words hit a nerve, and for a second, I had no response.
"I get it," he went on. "You're angry. You feel like everyone's making decisions for you. But just once... try to see it from his point of view. He doesn't want anything for himself , he just want to see you happy. He just wants to see you build something of your own-something real. A family, a life where you smile without pretending."
He took a breath, and then said quietly, "Even if you don't want to do it for yourself... do it for him. Think about it, Viyansh. That's all I ask."
I stared at the seat in front of me, words stuck in my throat. My grip on the phone tightened, but I couldn't speak. I just muttered a low, almost numb, "Hmm..."
After the call ended, I sat in silence.
My mind felt heavy. Everything I had tried to run from was catching up with me.
I leaned my head back, eyes shut, as confusion clouded every corner of my heart.
I didn't know anymore what was right, what was wrong.
All I knew was... I was tired of pretending it didn't matter.
"Maybe This Is Where I'm Meant to Be"
It had been exactly one week since that conversation - the one that shook something deep within me. Since then, everything felt... different. Off balance.
At home, I had grown distant. I barely looked my parents in the eye. I didn't avoid them intentionally - but when I did sit near them, words refused to come out. I wasn't ready to talk. I wasn't ready to pretend that things were fine. Because they weren't. Not inside me.
My mind was like a crowded room, echoing with memories, arguments, thoughts I couldn't untangle. Every day felt the same - numb, repetitive, quiet from the outside, but filled with storms inside.
That evening, work had been slow. I sat in my cabin, lost in thought, staring at my screen with no real focus. My fingers moved on the keyboard out of habit, but my heart wasn't in it. As the clock neared the end of office hours, I gathered my things, placed them neatly in my bag, and stepped out without a word to anyone.
The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink - a typical Jaipur evening, warm and peaceful. I got on my scooty and began my ride home, winding through familiar lanes, letting the breeze hit my face in hopes it might clear my mind.
But halfway through my usual route, I slowed down near a place I'd passed a hundred times but never entered - the Govind Dev Ji Temple. It stood quietly, glowing with soft light, people walking in and out with devotion in their eyes. I had heard so much about it. They said whoever comes here with a heavy heart, finds clarity. That this temple, this very place, has answers.
I had never really believed that... or maybe I never had the courage to go in and ask.
But today... something felt different.
I didn't plan to stop - but my hands automatically pulled the brake. Without even thinking, I parked my scooty on the side, adjusted my scarf, and slowly walked toward the temple. My heart beat a little faster than usual. I wasn't even sure why.It was almost surreal.
The moment I entered, it was like the chaos outside the temple walls faded into nothing. The air was filled with the scent of incense and flowers. Bells rang softly in the background, echoing through the halls. People surrounded me - families, elders, children - each of them deep in prayer, in connection, in silence.
I felt out of place for a moment. Like an intruder.
But then something inside me whispered, "You're exactly where you need to be."
I weaved through the crowd, making my way forward, step by step, until I stood near the front. It wasn't easy - people were tightly packed for the evening aarti - but I managed. And the moment the aarti began, something inside me just stilled.
I closed my eyes, joined my hands, and let everything else disappear. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't thinking. I wasn't overanalyzing. I wasn't angry. I just stood there, my hands folded, whispering silently to the divine:
"Bhagwaan ji... what should I do? I don't know anymore. I'm tired of feeling lost. Please... show me a way."
Tears didn't come, but my heart felt heavy, like it was melting from the inside. The kind of emotion you can't express in words.
Just then, as I opened my eyes, the poojari ji walked toward me with the aarti. I bent my head, took the flame's warmth into my palms, and touched it to my forehead.
He must've noticed the emptiness on my face, because he gently asked, "Kya hua beta? You seem troubled."
I didn't have the strength to explain. I just murmured, "Bas... ek sawal ka jawab nahi mil raha."
The priest looked at me with kind, understanding eyes and said something I will probably never forget:
"Beta, jo hona hota hai, uska faisla toh pehle hi ho chuka hota hai. Aur jo Govind Dev ji ne likha hai, voh hamesha tumhare acchai ke liye hota hai. Tum bas unpe vishwas rakho. Bhagwaan kabhi apne bacchon ke liye bura nahi chahte."
And in that moment... something clicked.
His words weren't magical, and they didn't solve all my problems, but they gave me something I hadn't felt in a long time - hope. A little sliver of belief that maybe, just maybe, everything happening right now is leading me somewhere better.
I nodded slowly, silently thanking him, and took the aarti once again, this time with more reverence. Then, I turned and began walking out of the temple.
As I stepped outside, the sky had darkened, the evening lights of Jaipur glowing around me. The wind was cooler, and my heart... lighter.
"Maybe this is where I'm meant to be," I whispered to myself.
And without looking back, I walked to my scooty with a new calmness in my steps.
As I returned home that evening, the heavy atmosphere inside the living room was impossible to ignore. Everyone was seated together, yet the tension on their faces said more than words ever could.
I stepped inside, placing my bag to the side and asked, “What’s going on? Why do you all look so stressed?”
My father looked up and replied with concern in his voice, “Beta, we just got a call from Manish ji. They’re waiting for your final decision.”
I paused for a moment, taking in everyone’s anxious expressions. My heart felt heavy, but somewhere deep inside, I had already made peace with my choice. After taking a deep breath, I finally said, “I’ve thought about it... and I’m ready for this marriage.”
There was a brief silence — and then, in unison, everyone stood up, surprised and overwhelmed. My mother rushed to me, eyes wide, searching my face for hesitation. “Are you absolutely sure, beta?” she asked softly.
I nodded slowly, “Yes, I’m sure.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she pulled me into a tight embrace, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Thank you, beta,” she whispered with emotion.
I held her for a moment, then gently pulled away and added, “But I have one condition.”
Everyone exchanged curious glances. “What condition?” they asked.
I looked at them, voice calm but firm, “Please don’t expect anything from me. I’m agreeing to this marriage because of you — for your happiness, not mine.”
My mother opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, my father stepped in, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “That’s okay, beta,” he said with understanding. “The fact that you’ve agreed is more than enough for us. We won’t ask for anything more.”
Without another word, I nodded and quietly made my way to my room, my thoughts echoing louder than ever — unsure of what the future held, but clear on one thing: I had made my choice.
Priti’s voice trembled with concern as she asked, “Why did you agree to her condition?”
Mahaveer ji placed a calming hand on her shoulder and replied, “Because, Priti... what truly matters right now is that she said yes to this marriage.”
“But marriage doesn’t work like this,” Priti argued, worry etched on her face. “How can a relationship survive with just agreement and no commitment?”
Mahaveer ji offered a gentle smile. “Give her time. With time, she’ll begin to understand things. She’s hurt and confused now, but eventually, she’ll come around. One day, she’ll give this marriage a real chance. Don’t worry so much.”
Just then, Mahaveer ji’s phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen — it was a call from Manish ji. He quickly answered.
“Hello, Manish ji.”
“What’s the update, Mahaveer ji?” Manish asked, a trace of anxiety in his voice.
“She said yes,” Mahaveer ji replied.
A wave of relief visibly washed over Manish ji as he let out a deep breath. “That’s wonderful news, samdhi ji! Congratulations.”
“Same to you,” Mahaveer ji said warmly.
“We should start thinking about fixing a wedding date soon,” Manish added with excitement.
“Of course. Let’s finalize everything soon,” Mahaveer ji agreed.
With a shared sense of hope, they ended the call.
In New York~
Manish ji couldn’t contain his excitement after hearing that she had finally agreed to the marriage. A genuine smile played on his lips, but deep inside, one thought kept troubling him — what about Viyansh? What if his son wasn’t ready for this? What if he was still stuck in his own rigid thoughts?
As he stood there lost in his worries, Poonam ji entered the room and noticed the unease on his face.
“What happened, Manish ji? You were so happy a moment ago. Why do you look so tense now?” she asked, concerned.
Manish sighed, “I’m just thinking… What if Viyansh isn’t willing? What if he still doesn’t want to go through with the marriage?”
Poonam crossed her arms and responded firmly, “And maybe he’s right. He made a sensible decision — someone of his status, class, and personality can’t just marry any ordinary girl. Look at him, Manish. Why would he settle for someone so below his level?”
Manish frowned. “Poonam, you’re still hung up on all these superficial things — status, background. Why don’t you try to see what I see? Look at her character, her grace. Saanvi is everything I ever wished for in a daughter-in-law. She’s perfect for Viyansh.”
Poonam looked at him, puzzled. “I just don’t understand what’s so wrong with Kritika. She’s your best friend’s daughter. Why are you not considering her? She’s educated, beautiful, and well-mannered.”
“I never said Kritika isn’t good,” Manish replied patiently. “She’s a lovely girl, no doubt. But she’s not right for Viyansh. I want someone who can care for him genuinely — someone who can love him unconditionally, understand his silence, and walk beside him in every storm. And I see all of that in Saanvi.”
Poonam scoffed, her tone dismissive. “You’re dreaming, Manish. Dreams that will never come true. Viyansh is never going to marry that girl,” she snapped before turning around and walking away.
Left alone in the room, Manish exhaled deeply, concern weighing heavily on his heart. He pulled out his phone and dialed Aditya.
“Yes sir?” Aditya answered promptly.
“When is Viyansh coming back?” Manish asked, his voice low.
“By tonight,” Aditya replied.
“Hmmm…” was all Manish could say before quietly ending the call.
The jet wheels touched down on the runway with a soft screech, and the familiar skyline of New York appeared through the window. As the aircraft taxied, a cool breeze swept in when the door opened — brushing against my face like a silent reminder of the life I had tried to escape from for the past few days. I stepped out slowly, my muscles tired, my mind even more.
Stretching my stiff back, I made my way down the stairs and toward the waiting Rolls Royce parked near the hangar. The driver opened the door, and I slid into the backseat without a word. The air inside was warm and silent — a contrast to the icy numbness I felt inside.
The city outside blurred into smudges of light as we drove. The towering buildings, bustling life, glowing signs — nothing caught my eye. My thoughts were too loud, crashing through my head like waves in a storm. I just wanted to get home, shower, and sink into my bed. Preferably without seeing anyone. It was late anyway; everyone would be asleep.
But fate had different plans.
The car pulled up outside the mansion gates. I stepped out, handed my jacket to the butler, and entered the silent house. The grand hallway, usually full of voices and movement, felt like a ghost town. I let out a sigh of relief — the kind that escapes you when you're alone at last — and began walking toward the staircase.
“Viyansh,” came a familiar voice, deep and unmistakable.
I froze mid-step. My father.
Turning slightly, I saw him approaching from the end of the hallway, his face lined with worry and something else — determination.
“Why weren’t you answering my calls?” he asked, stopping a few feet away.
“I was busy, Dad,” I replied, my voice flat.
“I want to talk to you. Now,” he said, his tone firm yet calm.
I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. Still, I nodded. “In the study?”
He agreed with a nod, and I headed to my room to freshen up.
The cold water on my face did little to wash away the tension in my chest. I changed into a fresh black shirt, buttoned it slowly, and walked toward the study, where I knew my father would be waiting.
He was already seated, a glass of water untouched in front of him.
As I entered, I stood by the doorway for a moment.
“You wanted to talk?” I asked.
He looked up and met my eyes. “She said yes.”
I didn’t respond.
“She agreed to the marriage,” he repeated, his voice almost cautious, as if testing how I’d react.
I said nothing. My face remained unreadable. A long silence stretched between us.
“Viyansh,” he said, leaning forward, “I know you’ve been through a lot. I know you're angry. But I’ve never asked you for anything. This... this one thing, I’m asking not for me, but for you. I just want to see you happy. I want to see you settled — with someone who can bring light back into your life. Please, don’t say no.”
I looked at him, really looked. He wasn’t just a father making a request. He was a man who had watched his son fall apart and was desperate to give him something to hold onto. I hated how much love he had in his eyes — because it broke my resistance.
After a long moment, I finally spoke. “I’m ready.”
His eyes widened. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m ready to get married,” I repeated.
For a second, he just stared at me — unsure whether to believe what he’d heard.
And then, he stood up and wrapped his arms around me. A rare gesture, filled with warmth and pride. “I knew it. I knew you’d understand. Thank you, beta. You’ve made me the happiest father tonight.”
But I didn’t hug him back.
“There’s more,” I said, stepping away. “I have conditions.”
He blinked. “Conditions?”
I looked him straight in the eye.
“First — don’t expect anything from me in this marriage. I’m only doing this for you.
Second — she will not live in my room. We will live separately.
Third — for the world, we may be husband and wife. But in reality, we are just strangers. She is the daughter-in-law of this house, but never my wife. Not in any real way.”
Each word was heavy, deliberate. The air in the room turned still.
My father didn’t say anything for a long time. He simply stared — trying to find something to say, to protest maybe, or convince me otherwise. But then, perhaps realizing how far I had already come just to say yes, he swallowed his objections.
He nodded slowly. “Alright... whatever you say. I just want you to take the first step. The rest... time will take care of it.”
I didn’t reply. I simply turned and walked out of the study, toward my room. Every step felt heavier than the last, but my decision was made.
The marriage would happen — but my heart would remain untouched.
......
Write a comment ...