What after That?

Ch 82

"Vyah toh maine tere naal hi karna hai... agar tune kisi hor naal kiya na toh..."

The words echoed in Ishan's mind as if they had been spoken only yesterday.

"Toh?" 

Shubman had smiled before pulling him a little closer.

"Menu ussi aag vich--"

Knock. Knock.

The sound on the door abruptly pulled Ishan out of his trance.

He blinked a couple of times before realizing he had been staring at the same spot for who knows how long.

Letting out a slow sigh, he got up from the bed and walked towards the door.

"Ab kaun aa gaya..."

He already had a pretty good guess.

Ever since morning, someone or the other from the village had been dropping by to congratulate him on the 'perfect rishta' and yesterday's roka ceremony.

Another knock followed.

"Haan, aa raha hoon."

He unlocked the door and forced the same polite smile onto his face before opening it.

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After freshening up, Ishan walked downstairs where breakfast had already been served in the courtyard. Everyone was gathered around as usual, but he quietly took his place without saying much. 

These days, there was only one person in the family he could still talk to comfortably—his dadi. She smiled as she served him another paratha, asking if he was eating properly in Delhi. 

Ishan smiled back faintly. She was the only person who still saw him as her old grandson, completely unaware of the storm that had torn his life apart a year ago.

The rest of the family barely received more than a nod from him. 

If his father asked him to do something, he simply nodded and obeyed without a word, almost as if he were taking orders from a king rather than speaking to his own father. 

His mother watched him quietly from across the charpai, missing the son who used to laugh,  and fill the house with warmth despite being quiet. 

Even his elder brother tried to start a conversation every now and then, but Ishan always answered in a word or two.

His dadi wanted to see him married, his father approved the match, and that was enough. Ishan no longer cared what he wanted. 

Agreeing had become easier than fighting, so once again, he simply bowed his head and accepted the decision as if it had always belonged to someone else.

They had barely started eating breakfast when the weather changed without warning.

Dark clouds rolled over the village, and within moments, strong winds began sweeping through the open aangan. The plates rattled against the charpais as everyone hurried to pick up the food before the dust ruined it.

"Sab andar le chalo!" his father called out.

Ishan quietly stood up.

"Mera ho gaya," he said, excusing himself before anyone could stop him.