"Happy Married Life, Shivya Pathak" I weakly smiled seeing my condition, mangalsutra dangling in my neck, vermilion in hair and both hands filled with gold bangles.
"Come out quickly or do you want me to break the gate," my husband knocked again...
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Standing just behind Vedant, Shivya let her gaze sweep over the crowd gathered ahead of them, her breath catching slightly at the sheer number of people waiting, and under her breath she murmured, "Itne saare log?"
(So many people?)
As the crowd began to move toward them, her nervousness grew, and almost instinctively, she reached forward and hooked her pinky finger around her husband's.
Vedant immediately sensed the hesitation in her touch, and turning his head toward her, his eyes softened. Without pulling away, he shifted his hand so that instead of just her pinky, her entire hand was enclosed within his, gripping it firmly. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he continued walking ahead with her.
While Vedant greeted the people-shaking hands, nodding at a few, exchanging brief words. Shivya couldn't help but notice the way the women looked at her, their expressions ranging from admiration to curiosity to quiet judgment.
Yet what struck her most was how, despite everything, he never once let go of her hand, and every now and then, he would turn his head just enough to glance at her, as if silently checking whether she was okay.
"Maalkin kitni sundar hain..."
"Unki aankhein billi jaisi hain," a little boy whispered innocently, only to be quickly silenced by his mother.
"Poore gaon ke saamne bina pallu ke khadi hain..."
"Arey, jab maalik ko koi dikkat nahi hai, toh tum logon ko kya hai?"
(The lady of the house is so beautiful... / Her eyes are like a cat's. / She is standing without a veil in front of the entire village... / If the master has no problem, then why do you?)
She heard every word people whispered about her, yet she paid little attention, because her focus shifted the moment she noticed Vedant bending down to touch someone's feet.
"Sona," Vedant called softly, and as Shivya looked ahead, she noticed a very old woman standing with the help of a stick-the same woman whose feet he had just touched with respect.
Taking a small step forward, Shivya listened as Vedant said, "Yeh Dai Maa hain," and then, turning toward the elderly woman with quiet pride in his voice, he gestured toward Shivya and added, "Amma, yeh humari ardhangini hain."
(She is my caretaker. / Aunt, she is my better half.)
Understanding what was expected without needing further explanation, Shivya immediately bent down to touch the woman's feet. But before she could complete the gesture, the old woman stopped her midway, holding her hands as she said, "Yeh aap kya kar rahi hain, maalkin? Hum jaise chhote logon ke pair nahi chhute..."
(What are you doing, ma'am? People like us are not worthy of having our feet touched...)
A smile spread across Shivya's face as she responded, "Aap humse badi hain, aur aap mere pati ki Dai Maa hain. Bachpan mein dekhbhal ki hai aapne inki, toh har hisaab se chhote toh hum hue," and before the woman could protest again, Shivya touched her feet.
