𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 : 𝑨 𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

{31}•ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴏᴄᴋ?•(🌶️)

BONDITA

Time felt as though it had slowed, each second dragging on as my mind swirled with endless questions. I sat on the large bed, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the intricate embroidery on the bedsheet. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't piece together the puzzle of this family's history.

What did Rani Maa mean by her words? Why was Anirudh so angry earlier? And what exactly happened years ago that everyone avoids mentioning?

I let out a frustrated sigh, my eyes wandering around the room. The grandeur of the space should've been overwhelming-the high ceiling, heavy curtains, and antique furniture screamed royalty-but instead, it felt hollow. It didn't help that I was alone in this massive room, left with nothing but my restless thoughts.

A sudden knock at the door startled me. My heart skipped a beat as I quickly got up, smoothing the pleats of my sari. Who could it be now?

Walking cautiously to the door, I opened it to find a young maid standing there, her head slightly bowed. She was holding a silver bowl covered with a deep red cloth.

"Ji?" I asked softly, tilting my head in curiosity. (Yes)

The maid looked up hesitantly, her eyes darting between me and the bowl in her hands. Finally, she spoke in a low, respectful tone.

"Yah haldi ka lep aapko Rani Sa ne bheja hai..."

(This is turmeric paste sent to you by Rani Sa.)

A small smile crept onto my lips as I took the bowl from her hands. The red cloth felt warm under my fingers, and the faint, earthy aroma of haldi reached my nose.

"Kya karna hai humhe isska?" I asked, frowning slightly in confusion.

(What am I supposed to do with this?)

The maid's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she lowered her gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her dupatta.

"Aapko nahi pata?" she asked shyly, her voice barely above a whisper.

(You don't know?)

"Ji... nahi," I replied, my confusion only growing.

(No... I don't.)

She looked even more flustered now, her blush deepening as she glanced away. I could see her struggling to find the words, her hesitation piquing my curiosity even more.

She finally murmured, almost to herself, "Nayi dulhan ko toh pata hona chahiye..."

(A new bride should know...)

"Ji? Kya matlab hai aapka?" I asked, leaning forward slightly.

(What do you mean?)

The maid hesitated before answering, her voice barely audible. "Yeh lep aapko apne pati ke pure sharir par lagana hai... aur aapke pati ko bhi aap par lagana hoga."

(This paste is to be applied to your husband's entire body... and your husband has to apply it to you as well.)

I blinked, utterly bewildered. She continued, her tone laced with a sort of reverence, "Yeh shaadi ke rivaaz ka ek hissa hai, jo naye jode ke liye shubh samjha jata hai. Isse unka sambandh aur mazboot hota hai, aur unke jeevan mein sukh-shanti aur safalta aati hai."

(This is part of the wedding traditions. It is considered auspicious for newlyweds. It strengthens their bond and brings happiness, peace, and prosperity to their lives.)

I stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. Apply it to him? And he would have to apply it to me? My cheeks flamed as my mind raced, picturing the absolute disaster this would become. Anirudh barely tolerated traditions-he would never agree to something like this!