Threads of Tradition: Tales Of Indian Arranged Marriages

5.

It had been a few weeks since the first cracks had begun to show in the wall that separated Ahaan and Kaira. Their late-night conversations had become a quiet comfort, small moments of connection that neither of them openly acknowledged but silently cherished. They still weren’t close, but something had shifted, a tentative bond forming where once there had been only distance.

Then came the phone call that changed everything.

It was a Sunday morning when Ahaan’s phone rang, the sharp sound breaking the quiet of the house. He glanced at the screen, seeing his father’s name flashing. A sense of unease stirred within him. His father never called this early unless it was something important.

“Hello?” Ahaan answered, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Ahaan,” his father’s voice was strained, “it’s your mother. She’s not well. I think you should come.”

Ahaan sat up immediately, his heart pounding. “What happened?”

“I don’t know exactly,” his father admitted. “She collapsed this morning. We’re at the hospital now.”

“I’ll be there right away,” Ahaan said, already swinging his legs out of bed and reaching for his clothes.

Kaira, who had been getting ready in the bathroom, heard the urgency in his voice and stepped out. “Is everything okay?” she asked, worry etching her features.

Ahaan shook his head as he buttoned his shirt. “My mother’s in the hospital. I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you,” Kaira said without hesitation.

Ahaan paused for a moment, looking at her. She didn’t have to come—there was no expectation from him that she would. But the sincerity in her eyes, the quiet determination, made it clear that she wanted to. He nodded. “Thank you.”

They arrived at the hospital in record time. Ahaan’s father was pacing in the waiting room, his face lined with worry. The sight of his usually composed father so unsettled added to Ahaan’s anxiety.

“What’s going on?” Ahaan asked as soon as they approached.

“The doctors are still running tests,” his father explained. “She collapsed suddenly this morning while making breakfast. They think it might be her heart, but we don’t know yet.”

Kaira, who had been standing quietly beside Ahaan, stepped forward. “Papa Ji, please sit down,” she said gently. “You’ve been on your feet this whole time.”

He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Kaira, I didn’t expect you to come.”

“She’s family,” Kaira replied with a small smile. “Of course, I came.”

Ahaan’s father nodded, clearly touched by her presence. He sat down, though his worry was still palpable. Kaira remained by his side, speaking to him in a calm, reassuring voice. She asked about his own health, offered to get him tea, and generally kept him distracted from his mounting fear. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but her quiet kindness filled the tense space in the waiting room.

Ahaan watched, standing just a few feet away. He hadn’t realized before just how naturally compassionate Kaira was. She had stepped into a crisis without hesitation, offering support to a family she had only recently become a part of. He saw the way his father relaxed under her care, the way she managed to bring some calm to an otherwise chaotic situation.

Hours passed before the doctors finally came out to speak with them. Ahaan’s mother had suffered a mild heart attack, they explained, but she was stable now and resting. They would need to keep her under observation for a few days, but the worst had passed.

Relief flooded through Ahaan. He hadn’t realized just how tense he had been until that moment, his entire body finally relaxing now that he knew his mother was going to be okay.

Kaira stayed with them the entire time, helping manage the influx of family members who began arriving to visit his mother. She ensured everyone was updated, coordinated meals, and even liaised with the nurses to make sure his mother was comfortable. Every time Ahaan looked around, there was Kaira, quietly handling everything with a calm efficiency that belied the emotional weight of the situation.

By the second day, when Ahaan’s mother was well enough to have visitors, Kaira was the first to step into her hospital room, bearing a bouquet of her favourite flowers. She sat beside Ahaan’s mother, holding her hand and speaking to her in soft tones. Ahaan watched from the doorway, feeling a surge of something unfamiliar—admiration, perhaps, or maybe even gratitude. He had never seen Kaira in this light before. She wasn’t just kind; she was strong, dependable, and compassionate in ways that went far beyond what he had expected.

As the days passed, Ahaan found himself relying more and more on Kaira. When the strain of worrying about his mother became too much, Kaira was there, offering quiet support. She didn’t push him to talk about his feelings and didn’t ask for anything in return. She simply stood by him, a steady presence in a storm.

On the day his mother was discharged from the hospital, Ahaan drove her home, with Kaira sitting in the backseat, gently chatting with her. His mother, still weak but in better spirits, looked at Kaira with something akin to fondness.

“You’ve been a godsend these past few days,” she told Kaira as they reached the house. “I don’t know how we would have managed without you.”

Kaira smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better, Mummy Ji. That’s all that matters.”

Later that evening, after all the family members had left and the house had returned to its usual quiet, Ahaan found himself standing in the kitchen with Kaira. She was making tea, her movements relaxed despite the long days they’d just endured.

“Thank you,” Ahaan said quietly, his voice breaking the silence.

Kaira looked up at him, surprised. “For what?”

“For everything,” Ahaan replied, his gaze softening. “For being there. For my family. For me.”

Kaira smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made something in Ahaan’s chest tighten. “You don’t have to thank me, Ahaan. That’s what families do.”

Ahaan nodded, but he knew it wasn’t just about family. Kaira had shown him something he hadn’t expected—her capacity for love, not the romantic kind, but the kind that was rooted in empathy and kindness. It made him see her in a way he hadn’t before, and for the first time, Ahaan wondered if there was more to this marriage than just an arrangement.

As they sat together, sipping tea in the quiet of the evening, the wall between them seemed thinner than ever before. Neither of them spoke about it, but they both felt it—the beginning of something new, something that neither of them had been prepared for but that felt, in that moment, like the first step toward something more.