Invisible String

chapter 2

In the softly lit hall adorned with off-white decor, the traditional Nikkah ceremony unfolded. The air carried the sweet scent of flowers and the murmur of prayers, creating an atmosphere full of cultural richness.

Umeed, draped in an exquisite off-white bridal Lehenga with intricate silver work, looked nothing short of ethereal. The elegant diamond jewelry, a symbol of status insisted upon by her parents, added a touch of sparkle to her ensemble. Yet, despite the outward radiance, a subtle emptiness lingered in her eyes.

Farjaad, on the other hand, was dressed in a crisp white shalwar kameez adorned with a white sherwani featuring light golden work, cut a striking figure. His neatly styled hair added a touch of refinement to his appearance.

Amidst the traditional decor, Farjaad's outward demeanor exuded a composed elegance, concealing the turmoil within. To him, this union was not merely a sacred bond but a strategic play in the grand game of business.

As Farjaad's gaze fell upon Umeed, an unexpected breathlessness seized him. She looked beautiful in the delicate white Lehenga, shimmering in the soft light. Her hair, styled in loose waves, cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face aglow with a natural grace. The minimalistic diamond jewelry accentuated her features, giving her an ethereal look. The bitterness he harbored toward the circumstances momentarily gave way to an unspoken acknowledgment of her beauty.

On the other side, Umeed's eyes met Farjaad's, and she sighed in relief. His white sherwani complemented his regal stature, and his neatly styled hair added a touch of sophistication. Umeed found solace in the fact that, at the very least, her spouse was somewhat handsome, not that it mattered very much.

In that fleeting exchange of glances, Farjaad and Umeed each glimpsed a hint of what could have been under different circumstances.
Agar halaat mukhtalif hote, toh shayad ye shaadi galay ke kaanto ki tarah na chubti, agar ye shaadi dou logon ke beech mohabbat ki wajah se hoti. They thought.

The guests, oblivious to the internal turmoil, rejoiced in the union of two families. Umeed, however, battled conflicting emotions.

Despite the grandeur of the occasion, Umeed's reflection in the mirrors revealed a bride who felt empty, yearning for a marriage that echoed the resonance of genuine love rather than the hollow echo of corporate responsibility. Umeed couldn't escape the bitter taste of a marriage that, despite its traditional splendor, lacked the warmth of a genuine connection. The diamonds on her neck and the silver embellishments on her attire glistened, but they couldn't lessen the sorrow she felt.

For Farjaad, this union was not merely a sacred bond but a strategy in the grand game of business. Farjaad couldn't help but see this marriage as a chess move on the board of commerce. Inwardly, he laughed at the absurdity of it all—the exchange of vows and ceremonial rituals transformed into calculated steps in a larger game where victory meant securing an advantage for his family's business.

While the voices echoed in the hall, Farjaad's mind danced with thoughts of competition and strategy. The diamonds glittering on Umeed's neck, the silver embellishments on her Lehenga—all seemed like tokens in a high-stakes game where the ultimate prize was dominance in the business arena.

The Imam's throat clearing disrupted the atmosphere, bringing both Farjaad and Umeed back to the present. The time had arrived to utter those three sentences that would bind them together, at least in the eyes of the world.

"Kya aapko ye nikkah qabool hai?"
The question hung in the air, with the weight of their destinies. Umeed knew that her response would alter the course of her life, and yet, she felt compelled by circumstances beyond her control.

"Qabool hai," she whispered, the words falling from her lips like fragile petals.

A sound echoed—a subtle shattering. What broke? Farjaad's heart, dreams, the possibility of a happy life? Or was it Umeed's freedom, hopes, and ambitions? The true nature of the wreckage didn't matter; it was already shattered. To inspect the broken pieces now would only deepen their wounds. An immature part of Farjaad had secretly hoped she would say no, but Umeed was as trapped as he was.