𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 One Last Night 🥀~

💗

Pushp Mehel was dressed in celebration. The garden glimmered under the night sky, bathed in the golden hue of twinkling fairy lights and soft lanterns hanging from trees like suspended stars. Delicate curtains swayed with the evening breeze, adding an ethereal softness to the grand space. The scent of roses and jasmine floated in the air, blending with the sound of laughter and music.

In the heart of it all, on a low cushioned platform adorned with marigolds and pearls, sat Haseena. Draped in a heavily embroidered emerald green sharara, she looked every bit the royal bride-to-be. Her hands rested quietly on her lap, mehendi dark and deep across her palms and arms, a symbol of love that had stained her skin but hadn't quite reached her soul. Her soft makeup shimmered under the lights, and her hair intricately styled with tiny jasmine buds , framed her face like a delicate painting. But amidst all this, her eyes held a silence. Her smile played at her lips, polite and practiced, but her gaze... it was far away.

The music playing in the background was a soft blend of folk and classical tunes, warm and familiar. Karishma twirled with energy, leading a group of girls, while Anuradha, graceful as ever, matched steps with a smile that never left her face. Other relatives joined in, clapping and swaying, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

Seated comfortably on a royal divan near the dasis were Jhanvi, Noor Jahan, Rajmata Vaibhavi, and Sadhna. They sat together, their faces glowing with a mix of pride and nostalgia, occasionally exchanging knowing glances. Jhanvi looked at Haseena with softness and admiration. Noor, while smiling, kept her hands folded tightly, perhaps praying in silence. Rajmata, ever regal, watched everything with quiet observation, while Sadhna, with her usual calm, whispered sweet nothings into Jhanvi's ear, making her chuckle.

Even the dasis joined the celebration, dancing and laughing freely. It was a night that belonged to the women . A sacred, vibrant pause before the storm of wedding rituals began. The air pulsed with a bittersweet charm, a mixture of joy, beauty, and the unspoken truths that linger in the corners of every grand event.

But amidst all the shimmer and song, there sat a girl who looked like a queen... and felt like a prisoner.

As the music played on and the laughter of women echoed in the garden, Maya politely excused herself from the circle of older ladies. Her smile was sweet, her steps graceful as always but her eyes held that same quiet poison Haseena had come to recognize over the past few days.

She made her way to the dasis where Haseena sat, surrounded by flowers and soft lights, and leaned in just slightly her tone affectionate, her act polished.

"Arey wah," Maya said, eyes gliding over Haseena's outfit, smile unbroken, "shaadi ke kapdon mein toh rang hi alag aa raha hai. Bas... thoda sa complexion aur fair hota na, toh raani se kam nahi lagti."

Her words were dipped in sugar, but her tone carried the sting of a blade.

"Waise bhi," she continued, brushing imaginary dust off Haseena's shoulder, "hamare raj vansh mein aaj tak kisi gharelu aur... gehuan rang wali ladki ko maharani bante hue nahi dekha gaya. Par sab kuch pehli baar toh hota hai, hai na?"

Haseena's hands clenched together in her lap. The corners of her smile wavered, her gaze dropping. Her throat tightened with unsaid words.

But before she could lift her face to answer Anuradha's voice cut through the air.

"Ek second, choti rani sa"

Anuradha had just returned from the far side of the garden, and though her steps were calm, her eyes had already seen enough.

She came forward and quietly sat beside Haseena, placing a firm, protective hand over hers.

"Haseena ka rang banke bihari ka rang h, choti rani sa" Anuradha said, her voice soft but steady. "Aur kewal rang hi nahi , dil bhi unki tarah h.. Saaf or komal."