What after That?

Ch 93

The journey back home felt far longer than the one to the wedding.

Ishan's father walked through the front gate with heavy, furious steps, his face dark with humiliation. Beside him, Raj followed quietly, his eyes fixed on the ground.

The moment they entered the courtyard, Ishan's mother hurried toward them. She looked around in confusion.

"Arre... Ishan kahan hai? Aur dulhan? Aap log itni jaldi wapas kaise aa gaye?"

The question snapped whatever patience Ishan's father had left. His face twisted with rage. "Marr gaya Ishan!" ( marega tu kameene.. Ishu to 100 saal jeeyega) 

He shouted so loudly that the entire house fell silent. "Woh uss do kaudi ke ladke ke saath bhaag gaya!"

Ishan's mother's face drained of colour.

Finally, Raj spoke.

In a calm, almost emotionless voice, he narrated everything that had happened at the wedding—the interruption, the guns, the escape, and how Ishan had left with Shubman.

He spoke without raising his voice. Without blaming anyone. Without defending anyone.

Raj also told them what had happened after Shubman and the others escaped. "We tried to follow them," he said quietly. "Wo jis gaadi mein bhaage the... usi ke peeche sab nikal pade."

Everyone listened in silence.

"Lekin jab hum logon ne uss gaadi ko roka....to usme woh log the hi nahi."

"Phir?"

Raj let out a tired sigh.

"Ek aadmi baitha tha. Wohi asli malik."

He rubbed his forehead, remembering the scene. "Bechara hume dekhte hi gussa ho gaya. 'Meri gaadi chori karke ab mujhe hi pakad rahe ho?' bas yehi chillata raha."

Raj continued, "Usne hume hi dhamki de di ki police bula lega."

The room fell into another uncomfortable silence. But no one noticed how unusually quiet he had become.

Ishan's father clenched his fists. His pride had been crushed in front of the entire village. His voice echoed through the house. "Aaj se hamara sirf ek hi beta hai."

He pointed toward Raj.

"Raj. Aur aaj ke baad agar kisi ne Ishan ka naam bhi liya... to woh bhi hamare liye mar jayega."

A painful sob escaped Ishan's mother. She wiped her tears before looking straight at her husband.

"Aapki hi wajah se woh bhaga. Aap sab usse zabardasti shaadi karwa rahe the. Humne dekha tha apne bachche ko... Woh andar hi andar toot raha tha."

Ishan's father glared at her.

"To kya chahti thi tum? Usse uss ladke ke saath rehne dete? Dono ki shaadi kara dete?"

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"Nahi... Lekin agar usse shaadi nahi karni thi... to kam se kam uski baat maan lete."

But one truth stood undeniable.

A twenty-two-year-old Punjabi munda... With a fractured hand, bruised ribs, and more stubbornness than common sense...

Had outsmarted an entire village. He had walked into the wedding they thought no one could stop... Faced dozens of people...

Fooled everyone with a plan that sounded impossible... And walked away with the one person he had come for.