A Match Made by Fate: Rudra and Aditi's Arranged Love ✅

Aditi's Silent Desires

Aditi

As I stood in the kitchen, occupied in making rotis, the joyous news of my upcoming roka ceremony and marriage dates, announced by Dadaji, reached my ears. Like any young girl, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of my upcoming wedding.

However, my fleeting excitement was soon overshadowed as I overheard Badi Ma talking to Bade Papa and Dadiji, fake her concern about the expenses. It was clear to me that this concern was nothing more than a facade. I had come to understand the real face of Badi Ma and Chanchal long back. They often put on a show of love and affection in front of others, but when I was alone, they never failed to remind me of my place in this house - as nothing more than a burden.

My Dadi, Dadaji, and Bade Papa held orthodox beliefs, and I had grown up being taught that as a girl, I was considered a burden to them. The discrimination between Chanchal and me was glaringly evident. Chanchal, with her mother's support and her father's pamper, always got her way. But it was my Bhaiyya who was my unwavering support. He fought for me and constantly stood up for me. I loved him wholeheartedly, and he loved me just as much, even though Chanchal was his own sister. He never hesitated to voice out the unfair treatment I received.

Badi Ma's suggestion that I wear Chanchal's designer sarees for the roka was met with approval from Dadi and Bade Papa, and they praised her for her thoughtfulness. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as I listened to them. Only I truly knew what it was like to live in a house where everyone considered you a burden, simply because you were a girl, and to top it off, without parents to shield me from this prejudice.

Till today nobody has ever bothered to ask me about my wishes even today they haven't thought about leaving freedom of decision on me regarding this marriage. The ironic part is that I haven't even seen the person I'm going to marry, let alone know his name. To them, it's considered inappropriate for a girl to inquire about the groom's details before the wedding, as if it's something to be ashamed of.

Stepping out of the kitchen, Badi Ma surprised me by telling Chanchal to give me her new designer saree for my roka tomorrow. I couldn't help but mentally roll my eyes seeing the saree chanchal gave me, knowing that she had worn that saree more than twenty times. I was the one who always washed and ironed it. However, I took it silently. Gathering some courage, I said, for the first time what I really wanted, "Dadi, if you permit me, can I wear my mother's saree? It makes me feel like she will be with me." Dadi thought for a moment making me nervous and then nodded in agreement. My happiness knew no bounds; at least one of my wishes had been accepted without any arguments.

Badi Ma couldn't resist adding her commentary, saying, "Aditi, what's this? We wanted you to look your best, and Chanchal is sacrificing her favorite saree for you. Yet, you insist on wearing your old mother's saree. How will the groom like you? I agree he's already a married person and a divorcee, but you need to look good for him. But what can we say, you're always so stubborn and determined to have your way."

Her taunting words stung, as they always did, but the way she said me in a mocking way that I was about to marry a single father who was a divorcee hurt more than her words. This was their choice and decision. I refused to let her comments spoil my mood.

Rundransh

In the morning, as I prepared to leave for the airport, Nanny took Aayansh with her for his morning routine. I noticed my mother and grandmother entering my room. My mother inquired, "When are you going to return, Rudra?" I replied, "Ma, I'll be back in two days." Dadi nodded in agreement and added, "Rudra, everything we're doing is for you and Aayansh's future.

I stayed silent, knowing they couldn't understand my reasons for not wanting to get married. They left my room, explaining they had a lot to prepare for tomorrow's ceremony. Descending the stairs, I spotted my son giggling while watching Laksh make funny faces. I scooped him up, planting a kiss on his cheek, and promised to return as early as I could. His laughter filled the room as I playfully rubbed my face against his tummy. Handing Aayansh to my mother, I headed to the airport.
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