Whispers Of Fate

Chapter 5

Namaste
Chapter 5

The first light of dawn painted a gentle glow across the room as Nitara stirred awake. To her pleasant surprise, she found herself nestled in the warmth of Anubhav's embrace. The realisation brought a soft smile to her lips. It was a serene morning, and the clock on the wall whispered that it was seven.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice a delicate melody that broke the stillness. Anubhav, with his silver eyes standing out against the morning light, slowly opened his eyes. Between them lay a shared moment that spoke volumes without words.

Anubhav reached for his phone and, with a swift motion, typed, "Good morning," displaying the message to Nitara. Her smile widened, acknowledging the simple yet profound connection they were building.

As Nitara rose to use the washroom, a quiet joy filled her. This, she realised, was her life now—a life where mornings began with shared smiles and silent conversations, where the ordinary moments held extraordinary meaning.

Amidst the rhythmic sounds of chopping vegetables and the soft kneading of dough, Nitara looked up from her task. The kitchen was alive with the comforting melody of morning preparations. She took a moment and then spoke to Anubhav, who was skillfully working the dough.

"Anubhav ji, are you free this morning?" she inquired, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

He nodded, a silent acknowledgment as he continued with his task.

"Good," she continued. "Can you get ready in something traditional by 10?" she asked, a note of excitement in her voice.

He looked up from his work, meeting her gaze, and nodded once again.

Nitara stood before the mirror, cradling a wine-coloured Banarasi saree — a precious legacy from her mother's wedding. Its rich fabric whispered tales of tradition and love. Feeling inspired, she decided to don the elegant attire herself.

With a mix of determination and a touch of uncertainty, Nitara opened YouTube on her phone, watching tutorials on the intricate art of draping a saree. Attempting to follow the steps, she soon found herself wrestling with the yards of fabric. Frustration tugged at her, and she settled for a half-draped look.

Peeking outside her room, she called, "Anubhav ji." Anubhav, wearing a golden kurta and white lowers, appeared in the doorway. His eyes, upon her half-draped form, widened momentarily, and a soft blush painted his cheeks. An unspoken understanding passed between them, and he instinctively looked away.

"Can you come inside?" Nitara said. Anubhav, his eyes still avoiding hers, nodding, stepped into the room.

Nitara, realising the situation, blushed herself. "Can you help me with the pleats?" she asked, her request met with a nod from Anubhav.

As Anubhav delicately assisted Nitara with the pleats of her mother's wedding saree, the air in the room became charged with a subtle yet undeniable energy. His fingers brushed against her waist, sending a jolt of electricity through Nitara. It was a fleeting touch, but it resonated profoundly.

After adjusting the pleats, Anubhav stepped back, creating a polite distance. Walking to the nightstand, he retrieved a notepad. With swift pen strokes, he wrote, "You look beautiful." Nitara blushed, a warmth spreading across her cheeks as she nodded in acknowledgment.

With care, she combed through her hair, each stroke a gentle ritual that connected her to the anticipation of the day. A small, round bindi adorned her forehead, a mark of tradition and grace.

A smile played on her lips as she admired herself in the mirror, not just for the external beauty but for the journey she was embarking upon. The room echoed with the rustle of her saree, a symphony of preparation for a new chapter.