In the bustling city of Mumbai, lived a restaurateur named Advay Malhotra. With a humble beginning, born into a poor family, Advay had always harbored a burning desire to work hard and earn enough money to fulfill his requirements. He was not a man...
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On the day of Meet
In the hushed confines of my room, I fidgeted with trembling legs, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation. The room was cloaked in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint hum of an unseen fan.
I could hear my mother's footsteps approaching, each step echoing through the void like a herald of impending doom. "Mumma, you should've knocked," I blurted out, my voice laced with a hint of exasperation. But my mother, ever the epitome of calm, rolled her eyes with nonchalance. With a graceful flourish, she laid a pair of chandbali before me, its intricate filigree shimmering in the dim light. "Here, wear these. They'll complement your outfit," she murmured, her voice soft as a summer breeze.
The Chandbalis
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Her Outfit
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As she reached out to pat me gently on the head, I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her, seeking solace in her embrace. "Mumma, I'm really nervous," I whispered, my voice barely above a trembling whisper. "What if something goes wrong?" "Nothing will go wrong, my child," she replied, pulling away and gazing down at me with eyes that reflected a lifetime of love and wisdom. "Just remember, if you don't like the man, don't feel pressured. Take your time, get to know him properly, and then make your decision. Okay?" I nodded slowly, my mind still racing with doubts and fears. "Okay," I said, trying to force a smile. "Now get ready. They'll be here in two hours," she said, her voice brisk and efficient. I nodded again, and she turned and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
