"Yuvraj, please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Don't do this."
"Get up," he ordered, his voice as cold as ice.
Tears streamed down my face. "Please, I'll do anything. Just don't make me-"
"Step on the glass," he interrupted, his eyes burning wit...
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The first light of dawn gently filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft, golden hue. I wake up slowly, feeling the warmth of Yuvraj beside me. I turn my head to see him sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Memories of last night flood my mind - how he kissed me tenderly and how we talked for hours before I finally drifted off to sleep, still in my wedding saree. A sense of relief washes over me as I remember that we didn't consummate our marriage without his consent.
Careful not to wake him, I slip out of bed, the silk of my saree whispering against the sheets. I move quietly across the room, gathering my clothes for the day. I choose a beautiful light blue anarkali, its delicate embroidery catching the morning light. As I dress, I think about the day ahead and the new responsibilities I now have as a wife.
Once ready, I quietly open the door and step out, closing it softly behind me. The house is still and quiet as I make my way downstairs. The scent of fresh flowers fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. I greet my mother-in-law, Bhawya, with a smile and a polite "Good morning, Maa."
"Good morning, Aisha," she replies warmly. "I hope you slept well."
"I did, thank you," I respond, feeling a bit nervous but also eager to make a good impression. "Is there anything I can help with?"
Bhawya smiles, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. "Today is your first rasoi. You and Yuvraj must cook together for the first time after your marriage."
The words fill me with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Cooking with Yuvraj... I wonder how it will go. I've cooked many times before, but this is different. This is our first task as a married couple, a tradition that holds a lot of significance.
"Of course, Maa," I say, trying to hide my nervousness. "What should we make?"
Bhawya leads me to the kitchen, explaining the dishes she has in mind. We discuss ingredients and recipes, and I start to feel a bit more at ease. Cooking has always been a source of comfort for me, and I hope it will be the same today.
I begin gathering the ingredients, setting everything out on the counter. As I do, I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Yuvraj entering the kitchen. He looks at me, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.
"Good morning," he says, his voice still a bit groggy.
"Good morning," I reply, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement.
Bhawya explains the tradition to Yuvraj, and he listens attentively, nodding. "Let's do this," he says with a grin, rolling up his sleeves.
We start working together, and soon the kitchen is filled with the sounds and scents of cooking. We move around each other, passing ingredients, stirring pots, and tasting as we go. There are a few moments of awkwardness, but also moments of laughter as we navigate this new experience together.
