Wispers of the heart

30 - Wedding Part 2

Aarav's POV-:

As Aanya stepped onto the stage, her radiance illuminating the entire mandap, our eyes locked. In that moment, everything else faded away - the chatter of the guests, the melodious music, even the weight of our finery. It was just us, on the brink of our forever.

With trembling hands, I lifted the garland of marigolds and roses. As I leaned forward to place it around her neck, the sweet fragrance of the flowers mingled with her own scent - a heady mix of jasmine and something uniquely Aanya. The garland settled on her, a burst of vibrant color against the deep crimson of her lehenga.

Then it was her turn. Aanya's eyes glistened as she raised her garland. Time seemed to slow as she stood on her tiptoes, her delicate hands draping the flowers around my neck. The cool touch of the petals against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. As she settled back, her shy smile was more dazzling than any jewel.

A cheer erupted from the crowd, a joyous cacophony of claps, ululations, and the ringing of bells. In that uproar of happiness, Aanya and I stood hand in hand, garlanded and united, the first symbol of our union glowing between us.

Soon, guests made their way to the stage for the photo. First came our parents. My father, his voice thick with emotion, blessed us with longevity and understanding. Aanya's parents, their eyes moist, whispered blessings of love and prosperity. Each guest brought their own wishes - some traditional, some personal, all heartfelt.

Ishaan was among the last to approach. He hugged Aanya tightly, then turned to me with a grin that was equal parts mischief and warmth. "Take care of our girl," he said, clasping my shoulder. "And Aanya, don't let him get away with anything! If he makes you cry ever, tell me I will make sure he knows exactly what he's done." His words, laced with years of friendship and care, made both Aanya and me laugh through our tears.

As the congratulations wound down, the aroma of a lavish feast began to waft through the air. Guests started making their way to the banquet hall, their excited chatter a testament to the spread that awaited them. But even as they moved, many glanced back at us, their faces alight with joy and blessings.

Amidst the movement, Aanya and I remained on the stage, our hands still entwined. "Are you happy?" I whispered, suddenly needing to hear her voice, to know her heart.

She looked up at me, her eyes shining brighter than her kundan. "More than I ever thought possible," she whispered back.

I smiled hearing her and then we too made our way to the dining table where our close family and friends had setteled. We then had our dinner. 

As the guests made their way into the banquet hall, where the rest rituals will take place we stayed outside for the photoshoot. The night air was cool against my skin, a soothing contrast to the warmth of the day's emotions. The garden, artfully lit with fairy lights and lanterns, created an enchanting backdrop for our photoshoot.

Our photographer, a jovial man with an eye for candid moments, guided us through the garden. First, he had us stand beneath a canopy of jasmine flowers. The fragrance enveloped us as I wrapped my arm around Aanya's waist, her head resting softly on my shoulder. The camera clicked, capturing the intimacy of the moment.

Next, we moved to a rustic swing adorned with marigolds. Aanya sat down, her lehenga cascading around her like a crimson waterfall. I stood behind her, my hands on the ropes. As she looked up at me, laughter bubbling from her lips at something I'd whispered, the photographer captured the frame. I knew that photo would always remind me of the joy we share.

For a more dramatic shot, the photographer led us to a fountain. The water sparkled like diamonds under the moonlight. He asked Aanya to stand in front, her dupatta held out by her hands. I stood a few steps behind, looking at her with undisguised adoration. When I see that photo later, I'm struck by how it symbolizes our journey - Aanya leading the way, resplendent and strong, with me following, completely captivated.