When Aarav Kapoor, a shrewd businessman born into wealth, and Aanya Mehra, an ambitious architect returning to India, are thrust into an arranged marriage, neither is prepared for the secrets beneath their union. What begins as a reluctant compromis...
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Three weeks into our marriage, I felt as though I knew less about Aarav than I did when we first met. The confession he made that night left me shaken, but it also lit a fire within me. If this marriage meant nothing to him, I was determined to change that. I decided to take matters into my own hands, but the more I tried to bridge the gap between us, the further he seemed to retreat. His walls were high, and every attempt I made to connect was met with cold detachment.
Today, we were visiting Guruji to seek his blessings, a tradition for the Kapoor family after three weeks of marriage. I dressed in a simple yet elegant saree, hoping to make a good impression, though the knots in my stomach told me this visit would be anything but simple.
The car ride was quiet, with Aarav sitting beside me, his gaze fixed out the window. Maaji and Maasi Maa sat in the front, chatting softly about the arrangements for the visit. I stole a glance at Aarav, his face unreadable, his mind clearly elsewhere.
As we arrived at the temple, the serenity of the place washed over me. The scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the sound of chanting and bells. Guruji's ashram was an ancient structure, its walls steeped in history and reverence. We stepped inside, and I immediately felt a shift in Aarav's demeanour. His normally stoic expression softened as he folded his hands in respect, his eyes filled with a rare glimpse of devotion.
"Guruji will see you now," a young disciple informed us, leading us deeper into the ashram.
We entered a room where Guruji sat on a raised platform, his presence commanding yet serene. Aarav immediately bowed, touching Guruji's feet in reverence. I followed suit, feeling a bit awkward but doing my best to show respect.
"Bless you, my child," Guruji said, his voice gentle but firm. His eyes lingered on Aarav as if silently communicating something only they understood.
As we sat down, Guruji began speaking to Maaji and Aarav about the family's well-being and the importance of following certain rituals. I listened intently, absorbing every word. It became clear to me that Aarav held Guruji in the highest regard. His faith in this man was unwavering, something I hadn't seen in him before.
After the blessings, we walked back to the car. The atmosphere felt heavy as if unspoken words hung in the air. I decided to break the silence.
"You really respect Guruji, don't you?" I asked, glancing at Aarav.
He nodded, his gaze still distant. "He's been guiding our family for generations. His wisdom is what keeps us grounded."
I couldn't help but be intrigued. "But Aarav, do you really believe in all this? The rituals, the blessings... the curse?"
He stopped in his tracks, turning to face me. His eyes were intense, searching mine for understanding. "You might not believe in it, Aanya. But I've seen enough to know that some things are beyond logic. Guruji's guidance is not just about faith; it's about survival."
