Thrones of Thakurs

❉ VII ❉

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»»-----　Gauri　-----««

Gauri sat quietly in the car beside her newly wedded husband, a respectful distance between them. All the rituals were complete, and after her vidaai, here she was.

During the vidaai, her family had shed crocodile tears—convincing enough to fool anyone who didn't know them well. Her mother and brothers had cried as though heartbroken, but Gauri knew better.

She too had cried. Not because she believed in those false tears, but because she couldn't deny the truth—her home would no longer be hers. 

This morning, she had imagined how the Thakurs might treat her. So far, they had been cordial. But their interactions had all been public. She wondered what things would be like once she was alone with them.

Her biggest concern, however, was her husband. Hrishikesh was a man of few words, and up until now, he hadn't said a single one to her.

Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks the same color as her lehenga, which clung perfectly to her figure. She glanced around timidly, trying to distract herself.

Hrishikesh intimidated her. His presence, his aura—everything about him made her stomach churn with nervous energy. She was aware of the infatuation he stirred in her, but it only heightened her anxiety.

Stealing a glance at him, she noticed he had removed his turban and the dupatta that had been tied to her lehenga during the wedding. The dupatta now sat on her lap.

His hair was slightly tousled, falling over his forehead, but his entire focus was on his phone, which he held with a little too much force. His knuckles were turning white, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

Gauri swallowed nervously, fear creeping into her thoughts. Why was he so tense? Had she done something wrong? But she had been sitting quietly all along.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she quickly wiped them away, the clinking of her bangles catching Hrishikesh's attention.

He switched off his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

 Sitting up straighter, he turned toward her, his deep, husky voice cutting through the silence. "Agar tumne phir se rona shuru kiya, toh main tumhe wapas tumhare ghar chhod aunga."

Gauri's eyes widened in disbelief, unable to process his words. She stared at him, her heart racing.

Their eyes met—only the second time—and Hrishikesh noticed just how red hers had become. How was he supposed to live with someone who cried this much? Massaging his temples, he leaned back against the headrest, clearly frustrated.

Gauri, on the other hand, wanted to say something, but no words came. She blinked, lowering her gaze to the bangles on her wrists, idly fiddling with them. 

They were golden, with intricate curving designs. Her hands were covered in mehendi, which had darkened into a deep brown.

Her aunt's words echoed in her mind: "Jitni gehri mehendi hogi, utna tumhara pati tumse zyada pyaar karega." Gauri had always dismissed such notions as a teenager.

But now, staring at the deep color on her hands, she found herself wondering—would Hrishikesh ever love her? A small, shy smile crept onto her lips. She stole a quick glance at him, feeling her cheeks grow even warmer.