❝𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒕, 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚?❞
••••••••••••••
He didn't want to feel anything for her after all; he wasn't interested in her. Hell, he wasn't interested in getting married, not a bit. However, fate has a way...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
इस दर्द-ए-दिल की सिफारिश
अब कर दे कोई यहाँ
कि मिल जाए इसे वो बारिश
जो भिगा दे पूरी तरह।
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Vivah sampan hua," the priest said, and I took a deep breath. My heart skipped a beat, and a huge emotion turmoil just stopped for a second. My heart suddenly started feeling heavy. My eyes unknowingly for a second went to him to look at him only to witness his eyes already on me.
A shiver ran through my body, and I looked away. My cheeks turn red due to embarrassment, I can still feel his heavy gaze on me. It was making me more nervous than I already was.
"Chalo beta, ashirwaad le lo sab ka" (Come, take blessings from everyone)
I heard my mother's voice, and I came out of my thoughts. I looked at her, and I saw her eyes were filled with tears, but her lips had a smile. Looking at her, my heart skipped a beat, and then I looked up at my father.
There, he was standing in a simple kurta pajama staring at me with tears in his eyes. That moment hit hard. I realized I'm married, and I had to leave my house, my father.
Like all the airs were snatched away from my lungs, I felt a lack of oxygen around me. I kept staring at him while he kept looking away, avoiding looking at me.
I kept sitting there until I felt a warm hand wrapping around my hand. Until I felt a little pressure in our entwined hand. Like the owner was trying to give me strength.
But I wasn't able to control myself. My tears weren't controllable. I felt someone pulling me up, I realized it was my husband. It was him, who was holding my hand all the time. He, for a second, looked at me and then nodded his head, like understanding that I wanted to be in my father's arm.
More tears fall from eyes, and without wasting any second, I ran to him. My husband, who was following me, followed, holding our gathbandan.
Wrapping my arms around my father's fragile body, I cried. Not a second later, I felt his wrapping his arms around me. Putting my head on his chest, I cried just as I cried when I was a child and lost my doll.
