"सवेरे की सुनहरी किरणों में,
नवविवाहित जीवन की खुशियाँ छाई हैं।
प्रेम की मिठास और आदाओं में,
नयी उम्मीदों की सुबह सजी है।"
✧
Author Pov
As the insistent buzz of the alarm dragged Avantika from the depths of sleep, she blinked groggily, trying to orient herself in the dimly lit room. The realization hit her in an instant—he was gone already.
A pang of curiosity mingled with a touch of concern rippled through her. Where had he rushed off to at this early hour?
Pushing the warm comforter aside, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose hastily, her bare feet meeting the cool floor.
A soft knock on the bedroom door halted her steps just as she was about to head to the bathroom. She hesitated for a moment, then opened the door to find Pakhi aunty, her face glowing with a gentle smile.
"Good morning, beta," Pakhi greeted warmly, her voice a soothing balm to Avantika's still sleepy senses.
"Good mo-morning, aunty," Avantika managed to stammer out, attempting a faint smile in return, though her sudden visit puzzled her.
Pakhi's smile faded for a fleeting moment, and Avantika furrowed her brow, instantly worried that she had somehow displeased her.
"Ab se main aapki aunty nahi, maa hoon bache," Pakhi announced softly, her smile returning in full force.
"Ji-ji maa," Avantika replied, her heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and disbelief at the newfound title bestowed upon her.
Pakhi gestured towards a large plate in her hands, taken from the maid beside her.
"Yeh lijiye," she said, handing it to Avantika with a gesture of maternal affection.
Avantika glanced down at the plate, momentarily puzzled by the unexpected gift.
"Aaj aapki pehli rasoi hai aur yeh humari taraf se aapke liye," Pakhi explained, her eyes twinkling with pride and joy.
"Wear this and come downstairs, okay?" she added, her hand gently patting Avantika's hair in a tender, reassuring gesture.
Avantika nodded slowly, a flutter of nervous excitement swirling within her as Pakhi aunty left, closing the door behind her. She sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
Her eyes fell upon the beautiful saree resting beside her—a gift, a challenge, a symbol of tradition and new beginnings. How was she to drape it? Panic gripped her briefly, her lack of experience overwhelming her usually composed demeanor.
"I can do this," she whispered aloud, steeling herself with resolve. Gathering her courage, she made her way to the bathroom to freshen up, the seconds ticking away relentlessly.
Standing before the mirror in her blouse and petticoat, uncertainty clouded her features. Frustration mounted as each attempt to emulate the graceful folds seen in countless tutorials on her phone ended in tangled fabric and mounting desperation.
"Mujhse saara kaam ho raha hai, par yeh pleats kyun nahi ban rahe?" she muttered in exasperation, her hands flitting ineffectually over the stubborn fabric.
Suddenly, the door creaked open behind her, a sound that froze her in place, her eyes widening in shock.
_ _ _
