Arranged marriages can be as sweet as sugar or it can be as zesty as salt. One is Rom-Com but another is a heartbreaking love story. Both pairs are entangled together in a bond, the bond of a forbidden marriage, you either hate it or love it.
MOHIN...
In the dimly lit room, the radiant glow of the full moon filtered through the curtains, casting a mesmerizing light that danced across the walls. Despite the ethereal illumination, chaos reigned within the confines of the space. Objects lay strewn about haphazardly, as if a tempest had swept through, leaving destruction in its wake.
In the midst of the disarray, Minakshi sat cross-legged on the floor, her back hunched over a battered cardboard box. Her delicate fingers sifted through its contents with a sense of urgency, her movements swift yet methodical. Every now and then, she would pause, her brows furrowing in concentration as she scanned the jumbled assortment of items.
Her focus was unwavering, as if she were on a quest of utmost importance. She was determined to find something specific amidst the chaos, her determination evident in the intensity of her gaze.
Despite her fervent search, Minakshi remained mindful of her surroundings. She moved with a cautious grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping form of Damru, who lay nearby. His steady breaths provided a soothing backdrop to the frenetic energy that filled the room.
But behind Minakshi's facade of composure, there lurked an undeniable sense of desperation. Her eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, betrayed a hint of madness, a flicker of something primal and untamed.
As Minakshi's fingers finally brushed over the cool, familiar metal, a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. With gentle reverence, she lifted the silver anklet from its resting place amidst the chaos of the room. Its surface glimmered in the moonlight, casting intricate shadows that danced across her face.
The anklet was a work of art, crafted with care and precision. Delicate lotus blooms intertwined with the graceful curves of peacock feathers, forming an exquisite pattern that spoke of beauty and grace. At its center, nestled within a heart-shaped motif, was the name "Trishul" engraved in elegant script.
It was a gift from Trishul, a token of his affection and devotion. The promise he had made at their first date to gift a silver anklet, a symbol of their bond and the love they shared. And true to his word, he had created a masterpiece that captured the essence of their connection.
Minakshi's heart swelled with emotion as she traced her fingers over the intricate design. Memories flooded her mind, transporting her back to a time when she had been the Queen of Durga Kul, when she had worn both anklets proudly, a symbol of her royal lineage and her union with Trishul.
But when she had fled, when she had forsaken her past and embarked on a journey of self-discovery, she had taken only one anklet with her. It had been a painful reminder of all she had left behind.
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On the other hand, Trishul settled into the plush armchair, its vintage charm exuding an air of timeless elegance. From his vantage point by the towering glass window, he had a commanding view of the world outside. The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, courtesy of the antique lamps scattered throughout, casting warm shadows across the ornate furnishings.
