An arranged love story of two independent souls who hold their family traditions and culture close to their hearts. What happens when their worlds collide? When they meet, bringing with them their own dreams, ambitions, and past experiences, and ent...
Our haveli vibrated with excitement and chaos – it was my Baan day. Ladies gathered inside, while men congregated in the garden. Children darted about, their laughter filling the air.Everyone wore orange attire, but I chose a elegant mustard poshak with lace and paired it with Mummy's gifted necklace and bracelets.
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I stood at the jharokha (window), watching the chaos unfold with a joyful smile. Today was my baan, and I had just finished my photoshoot, thanks to my kratu and mumal jeeja for their quick efforts. They had helped me get ready amidst the frenzy, as mummy and bhuasa urged us to hurry, worried that time was running out.
Last night, Kratu applied mehndi on my fingers. This morning, Bhuasa teased, "Banna to boli laad hu rakhsi Chaitu na."
("Banna will love Chaitu a lot!")
I blushed, smiling silently.
Seated in the room with Kratu, Moomal Jeeja, and relatives, my heart raced. Only five days remained until I became Mrs. Shekhawat.
Though I trusted Hukum blindly, knowing we'd navigate married life together, nervousness lingered. "What if I make a mistake?"
Pandit Ji summoned Viraj and me. We sat on the bajot, facing east, as he initiated the Pooja.Upon conclusion, Pandit Ji adorned me with a katar (small talwar) to shield me from evil eyes during the wedding.
Seven ladies stepped forward, playing jau chana. They ground haldi in a mortar and pestle, applying it sparingly to my hands and legs.
After seeking blessings, we enjoyed breakfast together. Dadisa instructed, "Chaitu beta, jaa aaram karle, thak mat jaajye."("Chaitu, go rest, don't get tired.")
"Haa, Dadisa," I replied, taking Pihu and Viraj with me to my room.
The two tired munchkins snuggled beside me on the bed as I changed into a simple cotton salwar suit.
My phone buzzed, displaying Hukum's video call. His warm smile greeted me.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello, Hukum," I replied.
Pihu peeked into the frame, and Hukum exclaimed, "Hello, Pihu Baisa!"
Pihu's cheeks flushed as she smiled shyly, drama-queen style.
Viraj appeared, his face scrunched in anger, my Bhuasa's words still fresh in his mind: Hukum would take Chaitu Bhuasa away in five days.
Hukum chuckled, "Oh my god, Viraj Banna, aap itne gusse me kyu ho?"("Viraj Banna, Why are you so angry?')
"Bhuasa mele (Mere) hai," Viraj declared, staking his claim. (Bhuasa is mine)
Hukum teased, "Nhi nhi, Banna, aapke bhuasa mere hai."("No, no, Banna, your Bhuasa is mine.")
Viraj's face darkened, adorable in his possessiveness.
Viraj hugged me tightly, staking his claim, while Pihu slept on my shoulder. Hukum chuckled, "Ohho Viraj Banna, itna gussa mat ho aap."("Viraj Banna, don't be so angry.")
"Mele Bhuasa," Viraj insisted.
Hukum reassured, "Haa haa Banna, Bhuasa aapke hai." ("Yes, Viraj Banna, Bhuasa is yours.")
Hukum turned to me, "Are you ready?"
"I'm ready, but a little nervous," I admitted.
"Don't be," Hukum said. "I'll be with you."
The Baan ceremony was vibrant, I shared. Hukum smiled, describing his own experience: "A little different. I don't like crowds."
I laughed, knowing his introverted nature.
"Abhi to bas shuruwat hai," I teased.("It's just the beginning.")
Hukum's face twisted in mock distaste. "I just want to come there, take you with me, and endure this chaos."
My stomach fluttered.
Moomal Jeeja entered, spotting Pihu asleep and Viraj holding me close. "Ohho Chaitu, yrr thoda to wait krlo, ab to bas shadi hone wali hai, phir kr lena saari baatein." ("Chaitu, wait a bit; the wedding is about to happen; you can talk later.")
Hukum greeted Jeeja and ended the call.
Moomal Jeeja teased, "Ohho Chaitu, Banna to Bhai bhut sharmate hai."("Chaitu, brother-in-law is very shy.")
I defended, "Esa kuch nhi hai, Jeeja; bas thoda kam bolte hai."("There's nothing like that, Jeeja; he just talks less.")
Moomal Jeeja chuckled, "Abhi se hi side Lena shuru hogyi tu to."("You're already taking his side.")
"Jeeja, yrr," I said, smiling, knowing she teased me.
We sat in the room, reminiscing about our childhood escapades. "We were such naughty kids," I chuckled.
"Now, life has made us so mature," Moomal Jeeja added, smiling.
As evening descended, Dadisa summoned me downstairs for the Pithi ceremony.
"Pithi will be done every day until the wedding," Dadisa explained, guiding me to sit.
Bhuasa began, "Acha su pithi karjyo, aapni bai phutri lagni chaije."("Let's apply the Pithi paste, our daughter needs to glow.")
Nayan Ji nodded, "Haa sa, aapna baisa to hai hi phutra."("Yes, our daughter is already so beautiful.")
The warmth and love surrounding me filled my heart.
Following the Pithi ceremony, I showered and prepared for the next ritual. My four cousin sisters held the odhani (decorative canopy) above me, and I walked beneath it to the designated room for the upcoming pooja.
Bhuasa performed my aarti, and I prayed for a smooth, chaos-free marriage.
Next was the Brahmin Binora, where I visited the Brahmin's house for dinner as a symbol of happiness.
The DJ's lively tunes beckoned everyone outside our haveli. We drove to the Brahmin's house, where my sisters and I shared a meal.
Afterward, we offered dakshina (gifts) to the Brahmins and returned home, dancing to the DJ's rhythmic beats.
Though I remained in the Jeep, I delighted in watching Dev, my brothers, and the others dance with joy.
Back home, Kratu reapplied mehndi on my fingers, a daily ritual leading up to the wedding.
Once the mehndi dried, I joined the ghoomar celebration in the varanda. Today, everyone urged me to dance, and I swayed to "Naina Ra Lobhi" for a minute or two.
That's it for today guys. Do tell me your views in the comment section.
