Hidden Scars (On Hold)

Part 1

The wedding hall shimmered like a celestial star, casting its luminous glow upon the gathered guests. Laughter echoed through the air, intertwining with the sweet strains of Shehani's melodious music. It was a quintessential Indian wedding-a riot of colors, joy, and culinary delights. Yet amidst the vibrant crowd, Arnav stood alone, a solitary figure.

The music, once a source of solace, now clawed at his insides, a relentless torment. He had come here solely for her sake, compelled by memories that clung to him like shadows. Memories of her laughter, her warmth, and the promise to be him forever-a promise that had slipped through his fingers like fine sand.

And there she was-the bride-resplendent in her blood-red wedding Lehenga, its intricate golden embroidery tracing delicate patterns across the fabric. As she glided toward her groom, Arnav's gaze remained fixed upon her. He yearned for a stolen glance, a fleeting connection that would bridge the chasm between their worlds.

Her smile illuminated the room, and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. In that moment, she embodied hope, the embodiment of a future brimming with joy. But as the groom extended his hand to welcome her into his world, Arnav's heart clenched. He knew this was the final farewell. A year had passed since he lost her, yet today, amidst the celebration, he felt the raw ache of her absence anew. She hadn't merely left him; she had become a memory etched in the fabric of time-a memory that danced alongside the Shehani's haunting melody, forever out of reach.

Neither did she give him a glance, nor was there a slight hesitation in her face. Yes, he was sad, deeply hurt. He knew that it was his decision not to choose her, and now he faced the repercussions of it. But a question still lingered in his heart: Why didn't she tell him? Why didn't she ask him? Wasn't he an important part of her life now? Did that legal paper hold the power to break the unbreakable bond of the world?

He still remembered their moments, where even a slight scratch on his body pained her. Words were unnecessary; she understood what he wanted. He felt her pure love, and because of her, he learned everything. His smiles brightened her face, and his tears broke her heart. So where was that love and understanding now? Couldn't she see that it was hurting him? Why didn't she understand that he wasn't brave enough to attend her marriage?

That poignant moment arrived-the one he had dreaded. The varmala ceremony, where she finally became someone else's. Tears, once stubbornly held back, now flowed freely from his eyes. What kind of sadistic person was he becoming? One who couldn't bear to witness the happiness of the person he loved. Yes, he still loved her, and that place in his heart remained hers alone. But a relentless thought tormented him: she had given that place to someone else, someone standing beside her, smiling blissfully.

Jealousy consumed him. Why couldn't he be like that other person, ready to embrace her wholeheartedly? If only he possessed the strength to accept and move on. Yet, despite his efforts, he knew he never would. Love, it seemed, could be both a blessing and a curse-a paradox he grappled with as he watched her embracing that person.

He withdrew his handkerchief from his trouser pocket, discreetly wiping away the tear before anyone could notice. With a forced smile, he glanced at the curious onlookers. That's when she sat down beside him, her touch gentle as she patted his shoulder. Softly, she called out, "Arnav?"

Turning toward her, he met the eyes of the one who had entered his life during a storm of emotions. She possessed an uncanny ability to conjure smiles even in the darkest moments-a true friend. Arnav raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Well, well," he teased. "Finally remembered me after appeasing those little stomach demons, did you?"

Her accusatory finger pointed directly at him, her eyes wide with mock severity. "See, Arnav," she scolded, "we made a deal-you won't taunt me about my foodie nature."