Ishq Risk: Rishton Ki Shiddat - The Intensity of Arranged Marriages

CHAPTER 3 ❤️

Suraj ko hui hararat
Raaton ko kare sharart
Baitha hai khildi pe teri

haan is baat pe chand bhi bigda
Katra katra woh pighla
Bhar aaya aankhon mein meri

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AUTHOR'S POV

As morning light streamed through the windows, Shivangi woke up and freshened up, the familiar scents of home surrounding her. She descended the stairs, drawn by the soft chime of the temple bell. Entering the living room, she found her mother, Tai, and Bua engaged in the morning puja, their faces serene and focused. Her brothers, Tau, Fufa, and Papa stood nearby, observing quietly.

Shivangi folded her hands and stood beside them, absorbing the warmth of the moment. As the puja concluded, her mother distributed sweets, the sweet aroma filling the air. She took blessings from everyone, hugging her Bua and Tai tightly, her smile brightening despite the bittersweet pangs of nostalgia.

Moments later, her younger sister Myra joined, greeted with a playful scolding from their mother for being late. Laughter erupted as the siblings gathered around the breakfast table, sharing stories and catching up on the past three years. Their brothers recounted achievements and milestones, pride shining in their eyes as they spoke of Shivangi's journey. The room was filled with love and laughter, a testament to the bonds that had only grown stronger over time.

AFTER 1 WEEK
It has been a week since Shivangi returned from France. It was difficult to hide her emotions from her family to the people she never lied.

Sitting infront of her dressing table her mind when to the conversation she had with her family 3 days back.

3 DAYS AGO

As the sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, illuminating the bustling breakfast table, Shivangi sensed the familiar undercurrents of her family’s conversation. Laughter and chatter filled the air, but beneath it all was an unmistakable pressure. Her mother leaned in, eyes bright with expectation, breaking through the noise with a tone that made Shivangi’s heart sink.

“Shivangi,” her mother began, a hint of urgency in her voice,
“humein tumhare liye ek bahut accha rishta mila hai. Tumhe isse milna chahiye.”
(“we’ve received a wonderful rishta for you. You should consider meeting him.”)

The mention of a rishta brought a wave of unease. Her brothers chimed in, nudging her playfully, throwing out suggestions and teasing remarks about potential matches.
“Acha, kya apne photo dekha? Woh toh bahut accha ladka hai!”
(“Come on, did you see the photo? He’s a great guy!”) Kartik her Tai's older son exclaimed, laughter bubbling in the air.

But as their words washed over her, Shivangi felt herself zoning out. The sound of laughter faded, and troubling memories began to invade her thoughts—images of her past toxic relationship flashing before her eyes. The arguments that had drained her, the insecurity that had gnawed at her self-worth, and the suffocating feeling of being trapped replayed in vivid detail.

Caught in this internal whirlwind, she felt a pang of anxiety. The warmth of her family’s intentions collided with the weight of their expectations, leaving her momentarily adrift. Memories of late nights spent crying, of feeling lost in a relationship that had promised love but delivered pain, surged to the forefront of her mind. She had vowed to herself never to return to that place, yet here she was, facing the pressure to step into another potential commitment.

Shivangi felt the warmth of her family enveloping her, but the air was thick with anticipation. Her father, usually quiet during such discussions, leaned in with a serious yet loving expression.
“Shivangi, hum chahte hain ki tum khush raho. Yeh tumhare liye ek acchi opportunity ho sakti hai,”
(“Shivangi, we want you to be happy. This could be a great opportunity for you,” )he said gently.