41. Invitation(1)

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The atmosphere on this solemn day was draped in a profound quietness as Siddharth and Ishita stepped onto the sacred grounds. The cemetery unfolded before them, a tapestry of stories told through countless tombstones, each a chapter in the grand saga of love, separation, and cherished memories. Today held the weight of significance, marking both the anniversary of Siddharth's parents' departure and the remembrance of Ishita's biological father.

In Siddharth's grasp, he held a bouquet of flowers – a simple yet heartfelt tribute. His other hand gently intertwined with Ishita's, a silent pact of mutual support amid the poignant moments ahead.

As they traversed the field, heading towards the distant corner, the symphony of rustling leaves and the distant hum of nature provided a poignant backdrop to their journey. The gravestones, stoic witnesses to the passage of time, stretched out in uniform rows, each one a repository of memories.

Upon reaching their destination, Siddharth halted before his parents' memorial, eyes tracing the engraved words that immortalized their presence. The gentle breeze played with the tendrils of Ishita's hair as Siddharth reverently placed the flowers on the memorial – a tender offering to the souls eternally engraved in his heart.

With a grace befitting the solemnity of the moment, Siddharth descended to his knees, a humble bow before the memories enshrined in stone. Ishita, mirroring his gesture, knelt beside him. The air seemed to thicken with reverence, carrying the weight of their shared sorrow.

Amidst the tranquil expanse of the grassy field, Siddharth and Ishita found their place, facing the solemn memorial that stood as a testament to lives lived and memories cherished. The gentle breeze whispered through the blades of grass, and the sky above seemed to echo with the sentiments that lingered in Siddharth's heart.

Siddharth, with a deep inhale, began his conversation with the unseen souls of his parents and grandmother. "Mom, Dad, I hope you guys are doing well, with Grandma joining you two," he spoke, the words carrying a mixture of longing and the quiet acceptance of the natural course of life. In this sacred space, he felt a connection to the beyond, a bridge between the earthly and the ethereal. " Shraddha is happy now, her husband is a wonderful guy. they'll be happy." 

Taking Ishita's hand gently into his own, Siddharth introduced her to the unseen presence. " I'm sure grandma must have told you about her. This is Ishita, your soon-to-be daughter-in-law. I've loved her for more than a decade now, and we're getting married in 10 days. She's beautiful, isn't she?" His gaze shifted from the memorial to Ishita, a look of affection and pride in his eyes. Ishita's smile radiated warmth, acknowledging the unspoken bond between the living and the departed.

Turning his attention back to the memorial, Siddharth spoke with a mixture of reverence and assurance, "I know we have all your blessings." The words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the continuity of love and connection, transcending the boundaries of life and death.

Then, with a deep breath, Siddharth shifted his focus to the vast sky above, addressing someone whose memorial eluded them. "Mr. Singh! Hello, I'm sorry we don't know where your memorial is." Ishita looked at Siddharth, her heart swelling with gratitude and emotions, seeing him extend respect to her father. Her grip on his hand tightened, a silent expression of solidarity.

Continuing, Siddharth conveyed his understanding and a promise, "I'm sure my dad must have apologized to you for not being able to throw away his family for his duty. But I know you must have forgiven him, and you must be getting along, as you two are going to be in-laws soon. I promise, I'll always be there for your daughter." A single tear traced a delicate path down Ishita's cheek, a tear not of sorrow but of profound gratitude for the man beside her. 

In the quietude of the memorial, the exchange of sentiments continued as Ishita felt a compelling need to reciprocate the connection Siddharth had established. Retrieving an envelope from her purse, she wore a serene smile as she delicately placed the pink envelope on the memorial. Siddharth glanced at her with surprise, his eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and warmth, as the realization dawned that it was their marriage invitation card.

Taking a steadying breath, Ishita addressed Siddharth's parents with heartfelt sincerity. "Mr. and Mrs. Gupta, or I should say... Mom and Dad," she began, the words carrying a weight of respect and acknowledgment. "You have the first invitation to our wedding. As your son said, I know we have your blessings." The envelope lay there, a tangible bridge between the realms of the living and the departed, symbolizing the continuity of love and familial ties.

In a moment of deep introspection, Ishita continued, "I'm sorry I didn't come here to introduce myself before. I just want to say... thank you. Thank you for bringing this man into this world and raising him so well." Her voice, a gentle melody in the hushed surroundings, carried a genuine gratitude that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

Firmly holding Siddharth's hand, she expressed her heartfelt gratitude to his savior, addressing him as Dad. "And my heartfelt gratitude to you, Dad, for saving my life, my love, and my soon-to-be husband." A moment of shared laughter resonated between them, a shared acknowledgment of the interconnectedness of their lives.

"I've always wished if I could've met you two in person," she confessed, her words a poignant reflection of unfulfilled desires. "I've caused so much pain to your son," she continued, her admission carrying a genuine weight. Siddharth felt the impulse to intervene, to assure her that all was forgiven, but he chose to let her speak, recognizing her need to unburden her heart.

"But I promise you that I will do everything to take his pain away. I'm a doctor, you see," she concluded, her statement infused with both sincerity and a touch of playful optimism.

In the serene aftermath of their heartfelt exchange, Ishita lifted her gaze towards the vast sky, still firmly holding Siddharth's hand. A soft, understanding smile played on her lips as she addressed her father, "Hi, Papa. I didn't know this is the way to talk to you guys; now I know, thanks to your soon-to-be son-in-law." The shared chuckle resonated, creating an ambiance of connection that transcended the earthly and embraced the ethereal.

Continuing with a blend of warmth and nostalgia, Ishita shared, "I was happy, Papa, in the little time we had. And my father-in-law, he had no choice. I know you wouldn't have wanted him to leave his family alone. Thanks to him, I'm getting a future with his son." Her words, laden with gratitude and a sense of acceptance, carried the weight of acknowledgment for the decisions made in the face of life's complexities.

"You two were so friendly with others; now that you are relatives to each other, I know you'd like him. Watch over us, we'll be assured," she concluded, her voice carrying a poignant assurance that they were not alone in their journey.

Seated on the grassy field, the couple embraced the quiet companionship offered by the resting place of Siddharth's parents. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant whispers of the wind added to the sacredness of the moment. Eventually, they rose from the ground, carrying with them a shared sense of solace and connection with those who had gone before them.

As the day progressed, they returned to the warmth of their home, their hearts lighter yet touched by the gravity of the emotions shared at the memorial. Later in the day, they joined Anuj and Shraddha for lunch, finding solace in each other's company. Ishita, with a tender smile, handed the couple their wedding invitation, the act serving as a beacon of joy amid the shadows of remembrance.

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