✧

जिस रिश्ते में पहले थी मजबूरी,

उसमें अब दिल की हर धड़कन है,

जो शादी थी केवल रस्मों की,

अब वो हमारी सबसे प्यारी हसरत है।

✧

Author Pov

Avantika sat in front of the mirror, her reflection a mix of beauty and despair. The intricate wedding attire adorned her, but the weight of the forced marriage hung heavy in the air.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the vanity tightly, and she felt the sharp sting as her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. She winced, but the physical pain felt almost like a relief from the emotional turmoil inside her.

Just then, her mother, Viransha, entered the room, flanked by her chachi, Minakshi.

“Hogye tayyar?” Minakshi asked mockingly, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she took in Avantika’s sullen demeanor.

Avantika remained silent, her eyes cast down, unable to muster a response.

“What are you doing?” her mother snapped, noticing the crimson droplets staining Avantika’s hands. She jerked her daughter’s wrists, her voice laced with panic. “Look at what you’ve done!”

“Leave my hand,” Avantika said, her voice icy and devoid of emotion.

“Beta...” her mother tried to soften her tone, but Avantika cut her off.

“Stop with your melodrama, Maa,” Avantika shot back, her heart racing with frustration. The last thing she wanted was her mother’s sympathy or her chachi's mockery.

Before the argument could escalate, her younger brother, Samarth, peeked into the room. “Di... pandit ji is calling you,” he said softly, his eyes filled with understanding. He knew about the forced marriage and felt powerless in a family that didn’t listen to him.

Time passed in a blur as Avantika gathered her thoughts and composure. She adjusted the delicate dupatta draped over her head, each movement feeling like an additional weight pressing down on her.

Timeskip

The mandap was adorned in radiant marigolds, red roses, and strings of jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of incense, adding a divine charm to the auspicious setting.

Family and friends sat around, their laughter and chatter filling the hall with a lively buzz. But Avyansh, seated beside the sacred fire, felt none of it. His mind was blank, his heart empty.

Just then, a hush fell over the crowd as a whisper echoed, “The bride is here!”

Heads turned, and excited murmurs spread through the hall.

“Oh, she’s stunning!”

“Look at her, so shy, eyes downcast.”

At the sound of the whispers, Avyansh glanced up, and his breath caught. Avantika entered, draped in a crimson lehenga, her face framed by delicate jewelry and a golden maang tikka resting on her forehead. Her brothers, holding the dupatta above her head, accompanied her. Each step she took was slow, deliberate, as though weighed down by more than just the bridal attire.

His gaze remained fixed on her, unable to tear away, and for a moment, something within him stirred—a flicker of recognition, perhaps, of her quiet strength.

“Bhai, bas karo,” Dev, his cousin, teased, bending down near Avyansh’s shoulder. “Stop staring at bhabhi; abhi toh poori zindagi hai ghoorne ke liye!”

Avyansh shot Dev a sharp glare, silencing him instantly.

Avantika reached the mandap and took her place beside him, helped by his mother Pakhi. She kept her gaze lowered, her expression unreadable, her face a mask concealing whatever she felt beneath.

The panditji began the rituals, and soon the sacred chants filled the air. The fire crackled between them, casting shadows on their faces as they performed each ritual.

First came the Kanyadaan, where Avantika’s father placed her hand in Avyansh’s, symbolizing his trust and blessing for their union.

The contact was brief, a simple touch, but Avyansh couldn’t ignore how cold her hand felt against his. She looked straight ahead, her gaze unwavering and distant.

Next, the Gathbandhan ritual took place. Pakhi tied the ends of Avantika’s lehenga dupatta and Avyansh’s stole, symbolizing their binding together for life. The knot was firm, yet the weight of it felt stifling, especially for Avantika, who knew how heavy the expectations of this bond would be.

As the panditji chanted, they rose for the Saptapadi, the seven vows. With each step around the sacred fire, Avyansh and Avantika were to promise lifelong loyalty, love, and support.

The crowd watched as they moved in sync, yet both felt worlds apart. Their steps were steady but hollow, the vows feeling like empty words between them. Each promise seemed more like a binding contract rather than a heartfelt pledge.

As the sindoor ritual began, the panditji’s voice echoed through the mandap, “Ab var vadhu ke maang mein sindoor bharenge.”

Avyansh’s hand hovered momentarily above the small container of vermilion, his fingers trembling slightly as he picked up a pinch of the bright red powder.

His gaze flickered to Avantika, and for a brief second, their eyes met. In her gaze, he thought he saw a flicker of something—perhaps resistance, or a silent plea for understanding—before she quickly looked away, her face once again a mask of stoic calm.

He leaned forward slowly, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he applied the sindoor to the parting of her hair.

As he pulled back, a small speck of vermilion fell onto her nose—a tiny, unexpected flaw in the otherwise perfect ritual. The hall murmured softly at the sight, some guests smiling at the significance.

"Acha shagun hai," the panditji announced, his voice filled with solemn assurance, as though the small imperfection was a divine sign of good fortune.

But Avantika felt none of the joy that the others did. A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, trailing down her cheek. It was unnoticed by all, hidden beneath her lowered gaze—except by Avyansh.

His breath hitched, and for the first time that day, he felt a faint twinge of empathy. Her pain was unmistakable, and though he had hardened himself against the emotional weight of the ceremony, that one tear seemed to speak louder than any words could.

The crowd cheered softly, oblivious to the emotions swirling between the newlyweds, the rituals continuing as if nothing had happened.

But for Avyansh and Avantika, that fleeting moment lingered—her tear, his hesitation, and the undeniable weight of the life they were now bound to.

The moment had finally arrived for Avantika to leave the house—the place she had never truly felt was home. It had always been a cage to her, a place that had confined her spirit rather than nurtured it.

As she stood near the entrance, Avyansh observed her, half-expecting tears or some sign of emotion. But there was nothing.

Her face remained blank, her gaze distant, as family members surrounded her, some offering hugs and words of encouragement. Their touches were warm, some perhaps even genuine, but to Avantika, each embrace felt hollow.

“Chalo,” Anjali, Avyansh’s Choti mummy, said gently, guiding Avantika towards the car. She moved without protest, her steps steady, her face devoid of any trace of sadness or fear.

Inside the car, Avantika took her seat by the window, Avyansh slipping in beside her. The door closed, sealing them in a cocoon of silence.

Only the sound of the car engine and the soft hum of the road filled the stillness. The driver, sensing the tension, kept his eyes forward, focused solely on the road.

Avantika's gaze was fixed outside, her eyes tracing the buildings and trees passing by, though she seemed to be looking past them. Avyansh occasionally glanced her way, unsure of what to say, if there was even anything he could say.

She appeared almost untouched by the day’s events, as if she had left a part of herself behind in that house—perhaps the only part that could still feel.

As the car approached Avyansh's mansion, the grandeur of it came into view. The mansion was an architectural marvel, a sprawling estate that stretched across acres, nestled within high iron gates adorned with intricate golden designs.

The pathway leading up to the main entrance was lined with towering palm trees, and the lawns on either side were meticulously manicured, dotted with fountains that sparkled under the dim evening lights.

The mansion itself was a blend of traditional and modern architecture, with large, arched windows, marble pillars, and balconies that seemed to extend endlessly.

Avantika’s gaze shifted from the window as they passed through the gates, her expression one of distant curiosity rather than awe. Her eyes took in the mansion, from the ornate carvings on the doors to the grand staircase that led to the upper floors visible through the large, open entryway.

She didn’t gasp or react with the admiration most people might feel, only observed it quietly, as if assessing the grandeur from a distance, keeping her emotions carefully masked.

Avyansh stole a glance at her, noting her calm and composed demeanor. Her reaction—or lack thereof—surprised him.

Most would be overwhelmed by the magnificence of his family’s estate, but Avantika simply looked at it as one might look at a distant, untouchable world, as if she were stepping into yet another gilded cage rather than a home.

For a fleeting moment, Avyansh felt a pang of something indescribable—a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

He wondered what went on in her mind, if she felt trapped or intimidated, but her face remained unreadable, a mask as polished and impenetrable as the mansion itself.

Avantika’s eyes were drawn to the grand staircase that led to the front door, each step perfectly aligned with precision, bordered by immaculately trimmed hedges.

It was almost too much to take in at once—the sheer scale and beauty of the place overwhelmed her senses.

While Avantika was entranced by the mansion, Avyansh found himself lost in admiration of his wife, who looked around with childlike wonder, though her expression remained composed.

Her mesmerized expression soon shifted to nervousness and then to blankness, causing Avyansh to feel a pang of frustration.

Glancing outside, he spotted his entire family eagerly awaiting them at the mansion's entrance.

Exiting the car after one last glance at his wife, Avyansh's driver moved to open Avantika's door, but he signaled for him to stop.

Walking around the car, Avyansh opened Avantika's door himself, extending his hand toward her. Lost in her thoughts, Avantika was startled when Avyansh softly called her name.

"Avantika ji...?" he gently urged, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Following her gaze, she noticed his family and relatives standing at the grand entrance of the mansion, their faces lit with eager anticipation.

Quietly, Avantika placed her hand in Avyansh's and stepped out of the car.

Together, hand in hand, they walked towards the entrance, where his family awaited them. Their teasing smiles were met with Avyansh's usual stoic expression, unfazed by the lighthearted atmosphere.

Anjali performed the customary rituals, warmly welcoming Avantika into the family fold.

As the rituals continued, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Avantika was led to a large, ornate plate filled with vibrant red ink, a symbol of prosperity and happiness in her new home.

The air was thick with tradition, and Avantika felt a mixture of anxiety and curiosity as she approached the plate. The family gathered around, their eyes glinting with excitement.

“Avantika  it’s time for the Grah Pravesh,” Pakhi announced, her voice warm yet commanding. “This ritual marks your entry into our family. Step into the ink, and let it leave your mark.”

With a deep breath, Avantika dipped her foot into the plate, the coolness of the ink sending a shiver up her spine. She lifted her foot, revealing a beautiful pattern of red that formed a stark contrast against the pristine floor.

As she stepped forward, the ink left an intricate trail behind her, symbolizing her journey into this new chapter of her life. The family erupted in cheers, their joyous claps echoing off the walls, filling the space with a sense of belonging.

Avyansh, standing slightly behind her, felt a strange urge to follow her lead. He stepped into the plate himself, mimicking her movement, his foot leaving a bold mark next to hers.

The family continued to celebrate, their laughter ringing in the air as they admired the combined patterns on the floor.As they stepped away from the plate, the vibrant marks on the floor became a testament to their unity, a blend of two lives now intertwined in the tapestry of family and tradition.

Soon, all the rituals were done, and the air in the room was thick with exhaustion. Devika, with a yawn, declared,

"All rituals for today are done. Now let the Bhaiya and Bhabhi go to their room."

"Yeah, you are right, Devika,"Pakhi chimed in, tired yet smiling.

"And although you must be tired, beta, tomorrow you have your first rasoi ceremony, so please try to wake up early. It's only for tomorrow; after that, you can wake up as per your choice."

She patted Avantika's head gently, who nodded in understanding.

Avyansh, visibly drained from the day's events, stood up to retire to his room when he was playfully halted by Dev

"Bhai, where are you going without bhabhi?" He teased.

Avyansh turned back, his brows raised in mock seriousness, causing Dev to quickly hide behind Pakhi his mother.

"Stop glaring Avy" Vijay said.

Avyansh looked at his father, surprised by the sudden turn of events. Maanyata with a stoic expression, reminded him firmly,

"Dev is right, Avyansh. If you have forgotten, then let me remind you-it's the ritual of this family for a husband to carry his wife in his arms to their room."

Avantika, lost in observing the loving dynamics of her new family, didn't quite catch Maanyata 's words until she felt herself lifted off the ground with a shriek escaping her lips.

Her arms instinctively wrapped around Avyansh's neck as he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her up the grand staircase. The cool air brushed against her face, and her heart raced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

Avantika couldn’t help but notice Avyansh’s focused expression, his jaw tight but eyes determined as he ascended, each step deliberate. His strength surprised her, but it was his silent resolve that unsettled her more.

Her gaze wandered, landing on the soft curve of his lips. She found herself momentarily distracted by how they seemed naturally tinted, unlike the bold shades she’d seen in the mirror.

Her thoughts drifted without her consent, fascinated by details she hadn’t thought would catch her attention.

Suddenly, they stopped, and she felt herself being gently lowered onto her feet. The shift in momentum snapped her back to the present, her mind struggling to process the quiet intensity between them.

Avyansh stood in front of her, his face calm but his eyes carrying an unspoken tension. Their eyes met, exchanging a fleeting connection filled with conflicting emotions neither of them voiced.

“You may change,” Avyansh said softly, his voice low but steady. Without waiting for her response, he turned away, leaving the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

Avantika stood still for a moment, taking in her surroundings. The room was lavish, its opulence subtly overwhelming.

A muted palette of rich grays and soft golds filled the space. Large glass panels acted as partitions, separating the seating area from the main sleeping quarters.

Beyond the glass, she noticed a plush seating arrangement with deep blue couches, a modern television mounted against a sleek wall, and heavy curtains shielding the room from outside light.

It was elegantly designed, a combination of luxury and understated comfort.

Moving past the seating area, she caught sight of the king-sized bed near the expansive windows, framed by delicate linen curtains that draped softly from the ceiling. Her eyes lingered on the bed for a moment, a flutter of anxiety tightening her chest.

A vase of white lilies sat on the bedside table, their scent faintly filling the room. While the flowers brought a sense of calm, her heart raced as she noticed a small glass of water beside the vase, a simple yet heavy reminder of the significance of the night.

Her mind spinning, Avantika walked over to her suitcase, pulling out a soft cotton kurti and pants. Finding the bathroom, she entered quickly, grateful for the brief reprieve from her racing thoughts.

Once changed, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, her reflection showing a face filled with apprehension. Taking a deep breath, she pushed back the anxiety that threatened to bubble over and stepped back into the room, feeling the weight of the night closing in around her.

She sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her heartbeat loud in the stillness. A few moments passed before the door creaked open again. Avyansh entered, now dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray trousers, his face unreadable as he glanced in her direction.

"You're not asleep yet?" Avyansh's voice broke through the quietude, his expression weary yet unreadable.

Avantika shook her head softly, her eyes meeting his with a mix of apprehension and defiance.

He sighed heavily, his words coming out in a rush,

"I married you because I was forced into it. I'm not really into this marriage thing, and I don't think I'm ready to give this relationship a chance."

"I am really sorry, Avantika Ji," he added, his tone carrying a hint of regret.

Avantika's eyes narrowed, locking onto his with a cold intensity.

"You never asked if I was forced or not," she replied sharply.

"I asked you to deny me when we met, but you didn't. Don't you think I wouldn't have asked you to deny if I wasn't being forced?" Her voice remained steady, despite the turmoil within her.

Standing up from the bed, she grabbed a pillow and walked towards the sofa.

"I will sleep on the couch. You can sleep on the bed," she declared, her steps deliberate and firm.

Avyansh moved closer, his expression softening slightly as he walked to the cupboard and pulled out an extra blanket.

"There's no need. Aap bed par so jaiye. Main yahan manage kar lunga." he insisted, placing the blanket on the couch with a sense of finality.

"This is your home, your room. How can I sleep on the bed and let you sleep on the couch?" Avantika's voice wavered slightly, betraying the hurt beneath her facade.

"Yeh hamara ghar hai, hamara kamra hai. Aur aap meri patni, meri ardhangini, Mrs. Avantika Avyansh Singh Rajput. So, as much right as I have here, you have even more right than that."."

Avyansh declared firmly, his voice carrying a stern authority that made Avantika shiver involuntarily.

Avantika looked at him, her words caught in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the depth of his statement.

"Go to sleep now. It's late. We'll talk about this tomorrow," Avyansh said, taking a step back and turning away to settle on the couch, his back to her.

Avantika stood there for a moment, emotions swirling inside her, before slowly making her way back to the bed.

She knew sleep would elude her tonight, just as it often did in moments of turmoil. The absence of her grandfather, her pillar of strength, weighed heavily on her heart.

She glanced out at the balcony, the moonlight casting ethereal shadows across the room.

As Avantika looked out towards the balcony, her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and hurt.

The weight of Avyansh's words hung heavily in the air. She couldn't shake off the feeling of being unwanted in this marriage.

Avyansh, on the other hand, lay on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

His mind was conflicted between the expectations placed upon him and his own doubts about commitment.

He never imagined marriage to be like this, a constant battle of conflicting emotions.

Hours passed in silence, the only sound being the occasional rustle of sheets or a distant car passing by.

Avantika tossed and turned, unable to find solace in sleep. She couldn't escape the questions that plagued her mind.

Eventually, as dawn approached, she heard a faint sound from the couch.

Avyansh had shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, his troubled dreams evident in the furrowed brow and restless movements.

Avantika's heart softened slightly at the sight. Despite everything, there was a vulnerability in Avyansh that mirrored her own.

She got up quietly, careful not to disturb him, and fetched a blanket from the cupboard. Gently draping it over him, she whispered suddenly tears falling from her eyes." I'm sorry."

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