Wedding

If someone had asked me about marriage just a few months ago, I would have laughed and confidently said, "Me? I'm not the marriage type." The idea of settling down, of giving up my quiet independence for a life I never planned-felt so far-fetched back then.

And yet... here I was.

Sitting in front of the large mirror, the golden frame barely reflecting the weight I carried inside. My hands were resting on my lap, trembling slightly, as the heavy red lehenga clung to my skin. It was stunning-richly embroidered, delicate yet powerful-but somehow, it didn't feel like it belonged to me.

A thousand thoughts raced through my mind.

What if I hadn't met Manish uncle that day? What if I had taken a different route, missed that coffee shop, said no to that casual meeting? Maybe-just maybe-I'd still be sitting at my desk in the office, arguing over deadlines, sipping on my third coffee of the day, laughing at my colleague's bad jokes. That thought made me chuckle, a soft, dry sound that faded as quickly as it came.

But the truth was undeniable-no matter how much I rewound the past in my mind, I couldn't change what fate had written.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and I quickly blinked away the thoughts swirling in my head.

My mother stepped in.

Her eyes scanned me slowly, and then widened, glistening with pride. "Saanvi beta... are you ready?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

I gave a small nod. "Haan Ma..."

She took a long pause, trying to contain the ocean of feelings threatening to escape through her tear-lined eyes.

"Oh God... look at you," she whispered. "You look so beautiful. I never imagined my little doll-my nanhi si gudiya-would grow up so fast. You were just learning to walk yesterday, and today... you're walking into a new life."

She stepped closer and gently tucked my hair behind my ear. Then, with practiced hands, she placed a small kala tika behind my ear, mumbling something under her breath to ward off the evil eye.

"Come sit, beta. I want to tell you something before you leave."

I sat beside her, and she held my hand, her grip both comforting and firm.

"Saanvi... life is going to change now. You're stepping into a new world, a new family. From now on, you won't be walking alone. You'll walk alongside others, with their dreams, their expectations, their rhythms. You'll be someone's wife, someone's daughter-in-law. And with that, comes responsibility."

"But listen to me carefully, beta," she continued, her voice gaining strength, "Taking care of everyone does not mean forgetting yourself. You're important too. Never let anyone make you feel otherwise. And never, ever compromise with your self-respect. If you believe you're right, then don't be afraid of anyone-not traditions, not judgments, not even family."

Her words struck deep.

"And Saanvi," she added after a moment, "if ever something feels wrong... if ever you feel alone or broken... just remember, we are always here. We're just one call away. This is your home, and it will always be your home."

I felt something stir inside me-an ache, an overwhelming warmth.

She looked straight into my eyes now. "People always say that a girl is paraya dhan-born to belong somewhere else. First, they tell her her real home is her in-laws'. Then, when she goes there, those people remind her that she came from 'another house.' In the middle of it all, the girl is left wondering... Where do I truly belong?"

She gently cupped my face. "But you, my Saanvi... you will always belong here. No matter what the world says, this will always be your home. You face a problem-don't think twice. Just come home. Don't carry the burden alone."

Tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, burying my face in her shoulder.

A soft knock interrupted the moment. Akansha peeked in.

"Saanu?" she said with a playful tone. "Are you ready?"

She took one look at me and gasped. "Oh. My. God. Saanvi... you look like a queen! I can't believe it. You're glowing, babe!"

I gave her a teary-eyed smile.

My mom stood up, her voice softer now. "Alright, come down in a bit, okay?" And with that, she stepped out of the room, leaving me with my best friend.

Akansha came and sat beside me, her smile fading as she noticed my expression.

"Saanu... are you crying?" she asked, brushing my cheek gently.

"I don't want to leave all of you," I whispered, the truth falling from my lips like fragile glass.

She didn't speak. She pulled me into a tight embrace.

"You're not leaving us," she murmured. "We're always with you, no matter what. You're just going somewhere else... not away from us."

I sobbed harder, clinging to her.

"But Akansha... what if he's like those men you hear about? Cold, unkind... what if he doesn't care?"

She pulled back and looked me dead in the eyes. "If he ever dares to be that guy-you hit him where it hurts the most and come straight back home. I swear on everything, I'll personally file your divorce papers."

I burst out laughing between tears.

She smiled and wiped my face gently. "But honestly, you don't even need me to fight your battles. You're not some TV serial bahu who tolerates everything silently. You're bold. You've always been. You know how to take a stand. You're the same Saanvi who never let anyone walk over her."

I nodded slowly, her words wrapping around my heart like a warm hug.

"Okay now," she said, patting my cheeks, "no more rona-dhona. Look at your face, your makeup's a mess!"

She grabbed a tissue and carefully started fixing my eyeliner. "There... better. Let's go make the world see what a goddess looks like in red."

The sacred moment had finally arrived. "It's time for the pheras," the Panditji announced, his voice echoing with tradition and reverence. The atmosphere inside the wedding hall turned serene, as if the very air was holding its breath.

Saanvi's mother smiled softly and walked toward the bridal room to bring her daughter out. A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the bride emerged, each step slow and graceful. Draped in a deep red lehenga, her face delicately covered with a veil, Saanvi looked nothing short of divine-like a goddess descending from the heavens. The intricate embroidery of her attire shimmered under the golden lights, adding to her ethereal charm.

All eyes turned toward her, but none were more transfixed than Viyansh. The moment his gaze landed on her, time seemed to halt. He stood motionless, completely captivated, as if the world around him had faded into a blur. His eyes, wide with wonder, couldn't tear themselves away from her.

Akansha, ever the observant one, caught the dreamy look on Viyansh's face and leaned toward Saanvi with a teasing grin.

"Oyeee, jiju ki toh aankh hi nahi hat rahi!" she whispered playfully, nudging the bride gently.

Saanvi peeked at Viyansh from behind her veil, her heart fluttering. He looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale, dressed in his traditional sherwani, the regal aura around him amplified by his calm composure. He's even more handsome like this, she thought silently, her cheeks heating beneath the veil.

Akansha smirked. "Lagta hai tum bhi kho gayi ho unmein?"

Saanvi immediately shook her head. "It's nothing like that," she muttered, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips.

Meanwhile, Viyansh hadn't blinked once. He was still lost in her-every gesture, every fold of her attire, every step she took toward him. His cousin Shaurya, noticing the dazed expression, couldn't help but chuckle.

"Bhai, teri hi hai... aaram se dekh lena," he said, elbowing Viyansh lightly.

Viyansh snapped out of his trance just enough to throw a mock glare at Shaurya before turning his attention right back to Saanvi, who was now only a few steps away.

As she reached the mandap, Viyansh instinctively extended his hand toward her. She looked at him-through her veil, their eyes met. There was hesitation, softness, and an unspoken bond that neither had the words to explain. Slowly, she placed her hand in his, and together, they stepped closer to the sacred fire.

The rituals began, but Viyansh couldn't help stealing glances at her every few seconds. Each look filled with awe, each moment deepening the connection between two strangers brought together by fate.

The scent of rose petals mixed with the holy smoke drifted through the mandap as mantras echoed softly in the background. Saanvi sat beside her groom, dressed in red and gold, her veil slightly falling across her forehead. But despite the calm air, her thoughts were anything but peaceful.

Why hasn't he said a single word? Not even one?

Is he seriously... mute?

Unable to keep her thoughts to herself, she leaned a little toward him and whispered, "Hellooo Mr... are you mute?"

The man beside her-her groom-turned his head slowly, his expression clearly confused at her sudden question. His eyes said it all: What the hell?

Saanvi gasped slightly. "Ohhh, so you are mute? Wow."

And then, she just kept going.

"You know what people say about you?" she began, lowering her voice but not her excitement. "That you're arrogant, grumpy, don't talk properly to anyone, full of attitude. Even I thought the same-that you're a first-class khadoos, buddhiheen, batameez."

She gave him a tiny shrug. "But clearly people talk nonsense without knowing anything. And honestly, I don't have a problem if you can't speak. If you had told me earlier, it's not like I'd have refused the marriage or something."

Her lips curled into a small, assuring smile.

"Anyway, chhodo... I'll speak for both of us."

Viyansh blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then, finally, in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, he replied,

"Main mute hoon... toh batata kaise?"

Saanvi paused. Her eyes widened, then she let out a soft embarrassed laugh.

"Oh... right. Good point."

He didn't respond further, but his lips twitched-just the faintest hint of amusement playing at the corners. She watched him carefully, suddenly realizing... he wasn't quite what she expected.

Maybe I judged him too fast. Maybe he's not as cold as he seems, she thought.

Poor guy. If I can make this easier for him, I will.

On the other hand, Viyansh sat still, mentally stunned.

God... is this girl always like this? Did she seriously just call me buddhiheen and batameez to my face? And who the hell are these 'people' saying all this crap about me?

Before either of them could say another word, Panditji's calm voice rang out,

"Dulha-dulhan, kripya phera ke liye khade ho jaaiye."

They both stood and began the sacred pheras, circling the fire step by step. With every round, something shifted-something silent, invisible. Their steps were slow, but their hearts were already moving ahead.

Once the pheras ended, they returned to their seats.

"Ab dulhan ki maang bharne ka samay hai," Panditji announced.

Anaya came forward and gently lifted the bride's veil. Viyansh took the sindoor in his fingers, and in that still moment, everything else faded. He leaned forward, applying it carefully along the parting in her hair.

And in his mind, he made promises-vows that no one else would hear.

I will protect her.

I'll give her the respect she deserves.

And I swear... I'll never let tears touch her eyes.

Then he picked up the mangalsutra and clasped it gently around her neck. The cool metal brushed against her skin, but the feeling it left was warmth.

Panditji smiled as he declared the final words,

"Aaj se, aap pati-patni hai."