ISHANI : HIS RELUCTANT BRIDE

1. Unloved Or Loved?

A U T H O R' S P O V

"Shut up!" A man in his late twenties yelled, his voice echoing in the abandoned warehouse. Akshat Harsh Singh Chaudhary, the feared mafia king, stood holding a gleaming bullet between his fingers. His usual green eyes were dark, filled with a deadly calm. The 57-year-old man across from him trembled, pleading with his eyes for mercy.

"You should have known better than to betray me," Akshat sneered. With a flick of his hand, he loaded the bullet into his gun and pulled the trigger without a second thought. The shot rang out, and the man's body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Akshat glanced at the body with disdain. "Dispose of it," he ordered his men, who quickly dragged the corpse away. He wiped his hands with a handkerchief as if removing invisible stains.

***

On the other side of this ruthless world, in the vibrant city of Banaras, Ishani sat in her small room, her eyes filled with tears. "I won't get my fictional man, will I?" she sighed, talking to her best friend, Aastha, over the phone.

"Ishani, you and your fantasy men!" Aastha chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But she knew the pain behind Ishani's voice. Despite her bubbly nature, Ishani's life was far from easy. Her aunt Kusum and uncle Sundeep treated her like a maid, and the only solace she found was in her brothers and best friend.

"Yaar Ashu, what wrong did I do in my last birth to deserve this? Why don't I have parents who love me?" Ishani's voice cracked, the dam of her emotions breaking once again.

"Listen, Ishani," Aastha's tone softened. "You did your Sola Somvar Vrat, right? You'll definitely get your reward. You will find your prince one day, just like in the books you love."

Ishani smiled faintly, wiping her tears. "I hope so. Otherwise, I don't know how much longer I can hold on."

Just then, a shrill voice cut through the silence. "Ishani!!" Kusum's voice boomed from downstairs. Ishani quickly said goodbye to Aastha and rushed down.

In the kitchen, Kusum's face was twisted with anger. "You call this lunch? Just roti, sabji, and two sweets? Where is the namkeen and raita I asked you to make?" She raised her hand to slap Ishani, but this time, a strong grip stopped her.

It was Yash, her elder son. His face was a mask of fury as he held his mother's wrist. "That's enough, Ma. How can you treat her like this?"

Sundeep entered the kitchen, taken aback by the scene. "Yash, let go of your mother's hand. This is not how you talk to her."

"Mother?" Yash spat. "She doesn't deserve that title. She's nothing but a devil in disguise." He glanced at Ishani, who was on the verge of collapsing. "Bhai, help me. Ishi's pulse is dropping," Aarav said, his voice filled with panic.

Yash didn't waste a second. He scooped Ishani into his arms, her frail body limp against him. He rushed out, ignoring Kusum's shrill protests. "Better if she dies," Kusum muttered, her voice dripping with venom.

Yash's heart ached hearing those words. He couldn't understand how his mother could harbour so much hatred for Ishani. "I'm taking her to the hospital. If anything happens to her, I swear, Ma..." He left the threat hanging in the air as he sprinted towards his car and called Aastha his to be wife and Ishani's best friend.

Aastha arrived at the hospital, her face pale with worry. "What happened, Yash?"

"Ishi fainted again," Yash replied, his voice breaking. "She's been crying a lot lately. I don't know how much more she can take."

Aarav came out of the doctor's cabin. "The doctor says it's severe emotional stress. Her panic attacks are getting worse. She hasn't been eating properly, either."