Not Meant to Be

Faisla

Vidya had barely processed her eldest son's words when she spotted a short woman clad in a powder blue anarkali clutching her net dupatta tightly. Vidya could not say anything for a second, completely forgetting what Armaan had said.

The young woman before her looked beautiful, a bit sad, but equally beautiful and cute. She was young, with a mangalsutra around her neck and sindoor on her hair partition. Momentary disappointment filled Vidya as she looked at the young woman. For what? She had no idea.

There was time for Armaan's marriage. And besides, his marriage was to be done with a bride of Maa Sa's choice.

A furious Kaveri's shout broke Vidya's train of thought, "Yeh kya keh rahe ho, Armaan?"

That was when Vidya remembered what Armaan said, and Vidya's eyes raked over the young woman in shock. Kaveri's demand had already beckoned the rest of the family to the house's threshold.

"Armaan," Vidya murmured in disbelief.

Armaan took the young woman's hand and pulled her closer to him. He said in a voice that he often used in court—firm and unwavering, "Yeh Abhira hain. Meri biwi."

Gasps were heard. Armaan's words rang in everyone's ears.

Up until now, there was only one daughter-in-law in this household, and it was Ruhi Birla Goenka. Now, an unnamed woman—a beautiful one at that—was standing at the doorstep, hand in hand with Armaan as his wife. Nothing could shock the family as this news did. Even if Rohit had eloped, it would have made sense.

But Armaan?

The firstborn of the Poddar family, who only bowed down to Kaveri Poddar, had married a woman without seeking the family's approval? That had to be a crude prank.

"Bhaiyya," The Chorus Gang looked at Armaan in dumbfoundedness.

"Bhaiyya, aapne shaadi karli?" Rohit asked and happily tugged his newly wedded wife's hand to stand beside him as he greeted his sister-in-law. "Bhabhi, main Rohit, Armaan Bhaiyya ka chota bhai. Yeh Maa hain. Yeh Papa. Chachi Sa aur Chacha Sa waha peeche hain, aur yeh hain Phupha Sa aur Bua Sa. Chorus Gang ko baad mein milaunga."

Rohit gleefully placed one arm around Ruhi and the other around a furious Kaveri, "Dadi Sa on my right, and Ruhi, my wife, on my left."

"Hi," Vidya watched the young woman murmur. She looked frankly tired—ill and sad.

"Rohit," Kaveri thundered. Rohit flinched momentarily before he said, his voice composed and kind, "Dadi Sa, Armaan Bhaiyya kabhi koi galti nahi ki hain. Agar unhone Bhabhi se shaadi ki hain, tho koi tho wajah hogi. Please aap ek baar apni bade pota-bahu ka grihapravesh karke unke baat suniye."

Rohit stood before his mother. Vidya sighed; there was nothing she could deny her younger son, so when he took her hands into his and pled with merely his eyes, Vidya looked at her mother-in-law and said, "Maa Sa, please inhe andar aane dijiye."

***

His bride's grihapravesh was blurry for Armaan. He frankly did not know what he was doing, his body on auto-pilot mode. The only thing he knew was that he had to hold his wife's hand as she stepped on the white cloth stained with her red footprints.

"Careful," He murmured as he held her hand, walking her to where the cloth ended. Casting a fierce look at his cousins, which deprived them of the opportunity to crack their usual jokes and questions, he tugged Abhira closer. He sat beside her as the family sat opposite and adjacent to them on the lavish couches.

"Tum humein bina bataye, shaadi karli. Kyun?" Kaveri looked disappointed, and something tugged at Armaan's heartstrings. He was a child again, wondering how long it would take to get this family's approval. He was thirty-three right now, and there was nothing he would not do if it meant he could get that solace for even a moment.