(No next update until the target is achieved. Silent readers put some effort and kindly just press the vote on the chapter and comment your thoughts)
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
🦋 राँझणा नैनों के तीर चल गए साजना साँसों से दिल सिल गए पलकों में छुपा लूँ तेरा सजदा करूँ सीने में समा लूँ दिन रैन करूँ तेरे अंग अंग रंग मेरा बोले हो अब जाँ लुट जाए ये जहां छुट जाए संग प्यार रहे मैं रहूँ ना रहूँ सजदा तेरा सजदा दिन रैन करूँ ना ही चैन करूँ 🦋
You stole my heart but I'll let you keep it
~ Annahita 🦚🪷
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As Annahita approached Anantara Kutir, the entrance was bathed in a soft, golden glow, casting an ethereal light on the path she was about to take. The air was filled with the fragrance of jasmine and roses, their delicate petals scattered like blessings under her feet. She was a vision of grace and beauty, draped in a resplendent red saree adorned with intricate gold embroidery that shimmered with every step she took. Her veil, lightly embroidered with motifs of peacocks and lotuses, gently swayed with the breeze, offering fleeting glimpses of her serene face.
As she approached the entrance of Anantara Kutir, the courtyard came alive with the harmonious sound of conch shells and bells marking her official entry into her new home.
The threshold was adorned with a silver urn filled with rice, a symbol of prosperity and abundance. Annahita, with her head slightly bowed, nudged the urn with her right foot, sending the grains spilling over the edge. This act, simple yet profound, signified her role in bringing prosperity and happiness into the home. The soft rustling of the rice grains as they scattered across the marble floor seemed to echo the blessings that had been bestowed upon her.
As Annahita took her first step inside, she was handed a small brass kalash filled with water and a single mango leaf. She gently placed her hand on the kalash, turning it over as the water trickled down, symbolizing the purifying of their path together. Adhiraj's hand brushed against hers, a fleeting touch that spoke volumes, grounding her in the reality of their union.
The next ritual awaited-a plate of alta, the red dye mixed with water. Annahita stepped into it, her feet leaving crimson footprints on the pristine white cloth laid out for her. These footsteps, delicate yet bold, were the first marks she would leave in this house, a sign that she had not just entered but belonged here. Adhiraj followed her closely, his hand hovering protectively near her back, ready to support her if needed.
