THE IInd DECISION

🌸Mehendi🌸

Aashi Pov:-

I was all set to leave for the office when my mother suddenly stopped me. "Where are you going? And why on earth are you dressed in formals?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Office, Maa! Why would you even ask?" I replied, a bit puzzled by her question.

She gave me a knowing smile. "Oh dear, did you forget? Today is your Mehendi ceremony. You can't go to the office!"

It was only then that I realized my mistake. I quickly glanced around and noticed the beautiful, colorful decorations that adorned our home. The memory of taking a nap after talking to Ruhi, my best friend, and Piyush, my colleague and good friend, about my upcoming wedding flashed before me. But instead of waking up in the evening, I had slept right through to the next morning.

"Your Mehendi dress is in my room. Go change quickly; the relatives, friends, and the Mehendi artist will be here soon," my mother instructed as she turned to speak to Rina Tai, our maid.

"But Maa, what about my office? I didn't take any leave," I protested.

"We already took care of that," Piyush said as he and Ruhi entered the room, both dressed beautifully and smiling brightly.

"You don't need to worry. I applied for a week's leave on your behalf yesterday," Piyush said, hugging me warmly.

"I'm so happy for you," Ruhi added as she pulled me into a tight embrace, tears welling up in her eyes. "Although I'm a bit mad that you didn't tell me earlier, it's all right. Let's get you ready, and don't forget to show me a picture of my beautiful Jiju-to-be," she teased.

I sighed and shrugged off my worries. Just as I turned to head upstairs, my mother called out again, but I was already too caught up in the whirlwind of the day to catch what she said.
My mother turned toward us and said, "I almost forgot to mention-it's their custom that the Mehendi will be brought by them. They should be here anytime after 11, so you better hurry."

"Yes, Aunty, don't worry! She's my responsibility," Ruhi reassured her with a confident smile.

"Aunty, just tell me what I can do to help. Your son is here," Piyush added, gently placing his hands on my mother's shoulders.

"Yes, come here, I'll tell you," she said, leading him away as they moved ahead to handle the preparations.

We went to my room, and Ruhi pulled out a beautiful green lehenga adorned with intricate embroidery. I quickly changed into it, and we paired it with light jewelry so I wouldn't have any trouble during the Mehendi ceremony. As I dressed, I could hear faint noises from downstairs, where the guests had already started to arrive.

For my hair, we kept it simple with a small clutch, and Ruhi placed a black bindi on my forehead. She then applied kajal to my eyes, bringing out their depth. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn't believe how beautiful I looked. Ruhi turned me towards her, placed a small dot of kajal behind my ear, and said, "This is to ward off evil eyes."

As I was about to stand, she suddenly said, "Aren't you forgetting something?" with a knowing smile.

I sighed with a smile and hugged her, which she returned tightly. "I wasn't talking about that," she teased.

"What then?" I asked, confused.

She pointed at me and said, "Jiju's picture!"

It was only then that I realized I didn't have his picture or even his number, and I certainly couldn't tell her about our contract. I quickly shrugged it off and said, "He'll be here today, so you'll get to see him then."

With that, and after persuading her, we finally headed downstairs.

I was made to sit down, and as I greeted my elders, they blessed me with happiness. Ruhi went to attend to some guests, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder how I would manage a marriage without love, but I quickly shook off the thought, reminding myself that my career was what mattered most. After all, love had never been real to me.

I was brought back to reality when my mother greeted Mrs. Adviti, who arrived with Aayan and a girl I assumed was his sister, carrying the Mehendi hamper. Aayan was dressed in formal attire, his face expressionless as if he were being sent to jail, while the girl smiled brightly when she saw me.

Mrs. Adviti greeted my mother and exchanged the Mehendi. Then, she approached me, placing her hand gently on my chin. "You look so beautiful, dear. May God bless you," she said before taking a seat with some mutual guests.

The girl came up next and greeted me warmly. "Hi, Bhabhi! I'm this arrogant boy's sister," she said, pointing toward Aayan, who still had that cold expression on his face. Our eyes met for a brief moment, but he quickly looked away.

"Hi," I replied with a smile.

The Mehendi artist started applying Mehendi to my hands when Ruhi suddenly returned with a shocked expression, her mouth hanging open. "Don't tell me... Ayan Singhania," she paused, "THE Ayan Singhania is your husband-to-be?"

I nodded with a knowing look. "You even know he's the most eligible bachelor in India since his wife... passed away," she said, her voice trailing off.

"Yes, I know," I replied, but our conversation was interrupted when the Mehendi artist asked, "What's the groom's name? We need to write it."

I said straightforwardly, "No, there's no need."

The artist agreed, but Ruhi protested. "What do you mean no need?! No, you must write it. The name is Aayan."


I tried to protest, but Ruhi quickly called out, "See, Aunty, she's refusing to have his name applied on her hand!" Her voice was loud enough that it caught the attention of all the guests, including Aayan. Feeling the awkwardness of the situation, I reluctantly agreed.

Just then, a boy in his late twenties stepped forward and said, "Aayan, you need to apply her name too, bro."

Aayan, clearly not in the mood, replied, "Rudra, don't start here." It seemed like Rudra was one of his close friends. Ignoring Aayan's reluctance, Rudra pulled him over and made him sit across from me. Turning to the Mehendi artist, he said, "Write 'Ashi' on his hand."

Aayan protested just like I had, but no one paid him any attention. Soon, I saw my hands adorned with beautiful Mehendi, his name intricately woven into the design, while his hands now bore my name.

Amid the chaos, I managed to whisper to Aayan, "Please give me your number."

He replied, "I'll email it to you."

"Okay," I said, though I was taken aback. Who emails their phone number?

--Mehendi set up

--Ashi's Mehendi Dress.

--Ayyan Mehendi formals

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