Bairi Sanam: The hate of a lover

Chapter XXVIII: Afsaana

Tejasvin

I exhaled sharply remembering whatever took place between us last night as I laid in my bed early in the morning. The pull between us was something beyond my understanding. I hated her and so did she then how did it get replaced by such emotions?

I heard a knock on the door that made me come out of my thoughts and got up to open it.

"Dau, maa is calling you," Smriti informed me and taking a t-shirt out of the closet I wore it and began walking towards her room.

Her room door was open, and I saw her folding some clothes on the bed with her back facing me. As I knocked on the door, she turned around and told me to come in.

"Tejas beta, every time there's a wedding in the village, the bride's wedding attire goes from our house," she began speaking and I had somewhat figured out where this was going. "Since Hari's niece is getting married, I have prepared the wedding outfit for her already. Can you go and drop this to her house?"

Jo bandishein thi zamaane ki tod aaya hu,

My eyes moved to the huge silver platter in which the red-coloured outfit was elegantly placed. I nodded and she left the room leaving me alone with her shaadi ka joda. I painfully looked at that red piece of cloth in which she would be adorned to become someone else's bride. I asked myself the same question again that I have been asking for the past few days- why was it paining me so much?

I returned to my room to get changed and leave for her house. Today her wedding rituals were supposed to begin. I wore a plain white kurta and went towards Surbhi auntie's room to get her wedding attire. I carefully picked up the plate and caressed the cloth gently, being careful to not let it get creased. It was folded nicely on the platter, and the intricate golden thread embroidery was sparsely spread on it. I wanted to unfold it to look at it properly but didn't want to ruin her outfit in any way. I was acting as if it would get dirty with my mere touch.

Mein tere vaaste duniya ko chhod aaya hu.

Gently placing it on the passenger seat of my car, I drove towards her house and parked by the village square where there was enough parking space. Getting off, I moved to the other side of the car and picked the platter using both my hands. It was quite heavy. As I began walking towards her house, I could hear the faint noises of laughter and women singing the traditional songs while playing dholki. Every step I took towards her house felt heavier than the previous one. Her house door was open to let all the guests in and it was decorated with marigold garlands. The wedding cheer was evident even from the doorsteps of her house.

Aaya tere dar par deewana,

Aaya ho aaya, aaya tera deewana,

Aaya tere dar par deewana,

Tera deewana, tera deewana, tera deewana.

Aaya tere dar par deewana,

Aaya tere dar par deewana.

I stood at her doorstep as my eyes fell on her delicate figure adorned in a white outfit sitting on a low wooden stool amid all the guests in the middle of the room. She was wearing a white blouse and a skirt with a white dupatta draped over like she always has. She wore yellow flower bracelets on both her wrists along with yellow flower tikka settled in the middle of her forehead. Her waist was adorned with a flower waist chain. Simple yet beautiful.

Yeh hai tera hi saudai,

Yeh hai tera hi shaidai,

Tere ishq mein hai ise mar jana.