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Arjun
It's Tuesday, just a day after my first visit to the Kapoor family. And here I am again, not to meet Ananya Kapoor, but to slip a ring onto her finger. Yes, it's MY engagement dayâan engagement to a girl Iâve barely spoken to, not that Iâm particularly inclined to.
Iâm seated in the drawing room, surrounded by the Kapoor familyâor, as I should probably call them now, my future in-laws. The atmosphere is buzzing with chaos and excitement, none of which seems to reach me.
Shocking, isnât it? How did I end up here, agreeing to marry Ananya Kapoor, their eldest daughter? Sigh⦠It took far too much drama, endless conversations, and a lot of persuasion for me to find myself at this point. And yet, here I am, on the cusp of an engagement I didnât see coming.
Flashback
After meeting the Kapoor family, we returned home, and I was just about to retreat to my room when Dad called me. I already knew where this was heading.
"Dad, no. Iâm not discussing marriage again, nor along about Ananya and her family. "
But Dad, in his usual firm tone, replied, "Iâm not asking, Arjun." His voice left no room for argument.
He continued, "Ananya is a nice girl. Sheâs suitable for youâcheerful, active, and she brings love and warmth to the people around her. You saw that yourself."
And thatâs exactly what I hate about her. Sheâs too cheerful, too carefree. One word: irresponsible.
âI think you should marry her. Noâscratch that. You are marrying her,â Dad said firmly, leaving me stunned.
"What do you mean?" I demanded as soon as he finished.
"You canât just decide this on your own! Iâve told you beforeâIâm not getting married. I donât need a wife, nor do I want one. And most importantly, I donât believe in love. Love is nothing but a weakness, and I wonât allow any weaknesses in my life."
Dadâs response was just as resolute. "I didnât ask for your opinion. Iâm telling you as your father. This is whatâs best for you."
"Best for me? You think forcing me into a loveless marriage is whatâs best? I donât want it, I donât need it, and I donât have time for it." I tried to keep my anger in check, but the sharpness in my voice betrayed me.
"Beta," Mom interjected gently, "marriage isnât just about love. Itâs about companionship, stability, and trust. Youâre so alone, Arjun. Donât you think itâs time to let someone in?"
"Iâm not alone. Iâm focused. I donât need distractions, especially not someone youâve chosen for me!"
"This isnât up for debate, Arjun," Dad cut in. "Do you think Iâm doing this to punish you? Iâve watched you isolate yourself for years, burying yourself in work and letting anger consume you. I wonât stand by and let you destroy yourself. Ananya might be the only one capable of pulling you out of this."
âYouâre putting a lot of faith in someone we barely know,â I snapped, my temper now slipping out of my control.
"Ananya isnât just anyone," Mom said. "Sheâs different. She understands responsibility, just like you. Sheâs practical and wonât expect grand gestures of love."
Just like me? Bullshit. Sheâs nothing like me. Sheâs more like Rohan, my brotherâthe one responsible for me carrying the weight of this familyâs legacy.
âI said Iâm not getting married.â
Dad raised his voice, his frustration evident. "Enough! Stop hiding behind your excuses. Your mother and I have made a decision, and I expect you to respect it. Weâve met the Kapoor family, and theyâve agreed to the match. You will marry Ananya Kapoor. Thatâs final."
"Youâve built empires, Arjun, but youâve built nothing for yourself," Dad continued, his voice softer now but still resolute. "Iâm not asking you to believe in love. Iâm asking you to trust that sometimes, life gives you what you need, not what you want. Ananya isnât just a choiceâsheâs your chance to find something more. And if you wonât do it for yourself, do it for the family."
Wow. I donât even get the right to say no anymore.
A tense silence hung in the room as I clenched my fists, anger simmering beneath the surface. But if agreeing to this marriage would get them off my back, so be it. Marriage is just a contract, and Iâll treat it as one. As for Ananya Kapoor, Iâll handle her laterâsheâll eventually give up on me.
Gritting my teeth, I said, "Fine. Iâll marry her. But donât expect miracles. Donât expect me to change, and donât expect me to fall in love. If this will stop these conversations, then Iâll do it."
"Good. Weâre going to the Kapoor house on Tuesday for your engagement," Dad said, as if my life wasnât upended just now.
"And you didnât think it was necessary to discuss this with me?" I asked mockingly.
"Be prepared for Tuesday. I donât want any disgrace," Dad said, ignoring my sarcasm entirely.
I nodded and walked to my room, knowing full well that if I stayed, Iâd lose control of my wordsâand my anger.
Flashback ends.
And thatâs how I ended up here.
Karan, my best friend, plopped down beside me, grinning. "Kya bhai, mujhe toh batane ki zarurat bhi nahi samjhe? Best friend ko invite karna toh door ki baat hai!"
(What, bro? You didnât even think it was necessary to tell me? Forget inviting your best friend to the function!)
"Tu kya samjha? Agar tu nahi batayega, toh mujhe pata nahi chalega? Bhool mat, teri maa mujhe tujse zyada pyaar karti hai." He smirked.
(What did you think? If you donât tell me, I wonât find out? Donât forget your mom loves me more than she loves you.)
"No wonder youâre here like a bin bulaya mehmaan." (Uninvited guest.) I retorted.
Karan burst out laughing. "Uninvited? Are you serious? Your mom personally invited me to the most important day of your life."
"Shut up, Karan," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
He laughed harder, clearly enjoying this way more than he should. Typical Karanâtoo noisy, too nosy. But heâs been my best friend for years, so I tolerate him. Barely.
Itâs been hours since we arrived, yet thereâs still no sign of Ananyaâthe girl Iâm supposed to get engaged to. Gosh! I donât know how much longer I have to stand this. I just want to end this drama and go home. This place feels suffocating.
Just as I was drowning in frustration, I heard the soft tinkling of anklets. My attention shifted instantly to the sound, and there she wasâAnanya.
She was descending the stairs with her mother and sister, her steps poised and graceful. She wore a lavender gown that surprisingly matched mine. Yet somehow, on her, it looked more beautiful than it had any right to.
When I saw her, I couldnât help but take in the detailsâno matter how much I wanted to look away, I found myself silently observing every detailâwhether I wanted to or not . The soft lavender of her dress was hard to miss. It wasnât just a dressâit was like a delicate whisper of elegance wrapped around her. The gold borders catching the light with every slight movement she made. I didnât want to look at her. I didnât want to notice anything about her. But as she moved, I found myself watching anyway, my gaze betraying the indifference I was supposed to feel.
The lehenga she wore was impossible to ignore. Lavender. A color I wouldnât have given a second thought to before now. The skirt flared around her as she moved, the fabric catching the light, shimmering like it had been stitched with stardust. The patternsâarches and paisleysâwere intricate, deliberate, and somehow seemed to belong to her. The blouse clung to her shoulders, the lace sleeves brushing against her elbows. There was a ribbon tied neatly at the back, a detail so small it annoyed me that I even noticed it.
And then there were the flowers in her braid. White lilies. Iâve never paid attention to things like that before, but they suited herâfar too much, if Iâm being honest. The soft contrast of the white against the dark braid only added to the effortless elegance she seemed to carry.
Her dupatta, sheer and almost weightless, floated behind her like a whisper. The way it draped over her shoulders somehow made her look⦠poised. Regal, even.
I shouldnât have been looking. I shouldnât have been noticing the way the skirt movedâlike it had a life of its ownâor how the silver embroidery caught every stray bit of light in the room. But I did. I noticed everything. And as much as I tried to remind myself that this was a marriage I didnât want, that she was a stranger I wasnât interested in, the details wouldnât leave me.
She turned slightly, the lehenga shifting with her, and I looked away, frustrated with myself. She wasnât supposed to be someone who caught my attention. And yet here I was, caughtâif only for a momentâby every deliberate, beautiful detail of her presence. It irritated me how flawless it all was, as if sheâd been preparing for this role her entire life.
I wasnât interested in her, not as my wife, not as anything more than the person my family had chosen for me. But still, I noticed everything. I couldnât help it. Every detail of her screamed that she was exactly what I should want, yet here I stood, detached and indifferent, feeling nothing but the weight of expectations tying us together.
Ananya
Itâs my engagement day. The Malhotra family had arrived hours ago, and the house was abuzz with activity.
I couldnât help but think back to Sunday, just after the Malhotras had taken their leave. Thatâs when my parents brought it up.
âAnu beta,â my father had said gently, âare you okay with marrying Arjun Malhotra? Both families have already discussed the match and think itâs a good one. But the final decision is yours.â
I hesitated, looking at both of them. âMamma, Papa, you know Iâm not thinking about marriage. Not now, at least.â
Papaâs expression softened. âAnu, thereâs no pressure. We just want to see you settled and happy. If you donât like Arjun, weâll say no to Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra. But if your hesitation is only because you donât feel ready, Iâd ask you to think about it a little more. Sometimes, the right opportunity comes when we least expect it.â
Mamma said gently, âBeta, Arjun is a nice guyâstable, respectful, and kind. He seems like heâd be a good match for you. So, are you okay with marrying him?â
I felt cornered. No choice, really. I couldnât let my parents down. Theyâve done so much for me, and this is what they want. But deep down, I didnât want this. Not yet.
It wasnât that I didnât like Arjunâhe was good, thoughtful even. But marriage? That was a topic I had barely given serious thought to. It felt like an entirely different discussion, one I wasnât ready for.
A voice in my head taunted me: Anu, think about your parentsâ happiness. Then another voice countered, But itâs not them who will be living this lifeâitâs you. Choose wisely.
The inner battle raged on for what felt like an eternity. In the end, I caved. âYes,â I said softly, agreeing to marry Arjun Malhotra.
After all, responsibility won once again.
And here I am now, getting ready to head downstairs for my engagement, wearing the gown my mother chose for this special day. My nerves are all over the place.
Isha and Mamma helped me get ready. âKisi ki nazar na lage meri bachhi ko,â
("May no evil eye fall upon my daughter.") Mamma said lovingly as she placed a kala tika behind my ear to ward off the evil eye.
With their support, they guided me downstairs. The moment was hereâthe moment I was about to meet Arjun, the man I was going to marry, the man with whom I was about to begin a sacred bond.
As I descended the stairs, my heart raced. From where I stood, I could already see Arjun waiting in the living room.
As my eyes landed on him, I found myself silently observing every detail. Heâs a tall man, maybe around 6â2â. And here I am, standing at 5â3â. Not a bad height, I suppose, but Iâd look so small beside him, almost fragile.
I couldnât help but wonder what it would feel like to be in his arms someday. Iâve always dreamed of being held by a man who truly loves meâsomeone who makes me feel safe, cherished, and whole. The thought stirred something deep within me, a mix of curiosity and longing I wasnât ready to admit out loud.
His lavender kurta matched my own outfit almost perfectly, though I couldnât tell if that was by design or pure coincidence or maybe our parents have planned it.
The fabric had subtle embroidery, faint patterns swirling across the material, understated yet deliberate. It was a soft color for someone who otherwise carried such a sharp, distant presence.
The crisp white churidar contrasted the kurta effortlessly, simple yet immaculate, as if every crease had been ironed with care. Even his shoes, traditional brown mojaris, looked polishedâbecause of course, he would be flawless. He stood there with an air of quiet confidence, his posture firm and unmoving, like this whole event was just another obligation he had to check off his list.
He hadn't noticed me yet , and still his presence felt unavoidable. Part of me couldnât help but wonder how someone could look so effortlessly handsome in a simple kurta. Is it really possible for someone to appear so irresistibly charming without even trying?
Either way, there he was, draped in lavender, looking every bit the man I was about to call my husband.
As I entered the living room, Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra approached me with warm smiles. I respectfully bent down to touch their feet, seeking their blessings. Mrs. Malhotra then gently took my hand and guided me to sit beside Arjun.
The moment I sat down, my heart started racing uncontrollably. Nervousness crept in, making it hard to breathe steadily.
Pooja⦠where are you when I need you the most?
Yes. I had told her on Sunday night about my engagement. She was utterly shocked and immediately tried to console me. She kept asking if I was doing this for my family or if I was truly okay with it. Convincing her that I was fine was no easy task.
Now, as I sat beside Arjun, with all eyes on us, I wished she were here. Her presence wouldâve given me the strength to steady my nerves, to remind me that I wasnât alone in this whirlwind. But for now, I had to calm myself⦠somehow.
Arjunâs motherâs warm voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
âYouâre looking so pretty, Ananya beta,â she said, her eyes sparkling with happiness. âYou and Arjun look wonderful togetherâjust like youâre made for each other.â Her joy was unmistakable, radiating in every word.
Arjunâs father stood nearby, his expression equally content. It was clear he shared her happiness. However, the only person whose emotions I couldnât decipher was Arjun himself. His face was calm, almost unreadable. Was he happy? Indifferent? I just couldnât tell.
Suddenly, a cheerful voice broke the moment.
âAnanya! Hi! I must say, you are truly stunning. Just perfect for him.â
I turned to see a man I didnât recognize, and the confusion must have been evident on my face because he quickly added, âOh! Let me introduce myself. Iâm KaranâKaran Verma. Arjunâs best friend and, honestly, his only friend,â he teased, throwing a playful glance at Arjun.
Arjunâs eyes narrowed slightly in response, and I caught the faintest glare he directed at Karan. I couldnât help but smile a little at their dynamic.
At that very moment, I spotted a familiar face entering the room. Relief flooded through me as I saw Pooja. My best friend was finally here. Her presence was like a calming balm to my nerves.
As soon as Karan noticed her, something flickered in his eyesâa mix of curiosity and mischief. He turned to her and said in an exaggeratedly flirty tone, âOh, and who might this beautiful young lady be?â
Pooja, clearly unimpressed, rolled her eyes and walked over to stand beside me. âHer best friend,â she said flatly, crossing her arms and giving him a no-nonsense look.
The subtle exchange made me smile again. With Pooja here, I felt a bit more grounded, ready to face whatever came next.
The moment our parents had been eagerly waiting for had finally arrived, and the guests were all here. It was a small, intimate engagement ceremony held at home, with only close family and friends in attendance.
Isha walked in, carrying the beautifully decorated thali with our rings placed neatly on it. The intricate designs and thoughtful embellishments on the tray reflected the love and care put into this occasion. My mother handed Arjun my ring, while his mother passed me his.
Arjun extended his hand toward me, waiting for me to slip the ring onto his finger. My heart raced, and I had to summon all my willpower to keep my hands steady. Somehow, I managed. After all, this was the first time I had ever touched a man.
Then, Arjun gently reached out, holding his hand above mine. I slid the ring onto his finger, my heart pounding with a mix of nervous anticipation and an unfamiliar thrill. The room filled with the warm smiles and cheers of our families, their joy resonated around us, filling the room with a palpable warmth and happiness.
Arjun
Now weâre engaged. Thereâs no going back.
Today, for the first time, I noticed how small and delicate she looks beside me. Sitting there, her presence felt almost fragile against my own. When it came time for her to slip the ring onto my finger, I extended my hand, and hers disappeared beneath mine. Her fingers were warm, trembling slightly, and I couldnât stop my thoughts from strayingâhow would she look beneath me, her body as vulnerable as her hands felt now?
I clenched my jaw, mentally chastising myself for the vulgar direction of my thoughts. I wasnât interested in her, nor was I particularly thrilled about this marriage. But here I am, letting my thoughts wander in ways they shouldnâtâespecially when all eyes are on us.
What was it about her that stirred something so unexpected? Was it the way her small, delicate hands trembled under mine? Or the way she carried herself, nervous but determined?
I shook off the thought, trying to compose myself. This wasnât the time to lose focus, not with the ceremony still unfolding around us. Yet, despite my best efforts, a part of me couldnât ignore the shift within meâa curiosity, a spark I hadnât anticipated.
The sound of applause pulled me back to reality, grounding me in the present. The ring exchange ceremony was complete. My parents stepped forward, presenting Ananya with gifts as part of the Shagun, their way of welcoming her into the family. Her parents followed, offering me their blessings and a few tokens of goodwill.
Through it all, I caught a glimpse of Ananyaâs face. She smiled graciously, her eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and determination. I couldnât decide if she was putting on a brave front or if this was just who she wasâresilient, despite the awkwardness of it all.
One thing was certain: this was only the beginning, and the path ahead would test us both.
Now weâre alone. Well, not reallyâeveryone else is just busy preparing for dinner and other things, leaving me and Ananya to ourselves.
âArjun,â she called my name.
It wasnât the first time Iâd heard her voice, but it was the first time Iâd heard her say my name. And damn it, I hated how beautiful it sounded coming from her lips. Soft, almost melodic, like she was breathing life into it.
I couldnât help myselfâI wondered how she would look if she were...
No. I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. It was inappropriate, wrong even, to let my mind wander there. Yet, despite my efforts, the image lingered, unbidden and vivid.
I caught myself, my thoughts veering dangerously close to a place I didnât want them to go. Stop it, Arjun. Donât you dare.
I clenched my fists, forcing my mind back to the present, away from thoughts I had no business entertaining, no matter how persistent they were.
"So... this is all a bit surreal, isnât it? Us sitting here, engaged, just like that," she said, her voice light, almost teasing.
I gave a brief nod, keeping my gaze elsewhere. I didnât want to engage in this conversation.
She laughed softly. "Youâre not much of a talker, are you?"
Why does she always have to be so carefree?
"Well, Iâm the opposite, so I guess that balances things out. What do you think?"
Her cheerful tone grated on my nerves, not because it was unpleasant, but because it unsettled me in ways I didnât want to acknowledge. I avoided her gaze, shutting down my imagination before it wandered somewhere it shouldnât.
"Maybe," I replied curtly.
Ananya must have noticed my reluctance, yet she pressed on with an unwavering smile. "Youâre not making this easy, you know. But I like a challenge."
Sheâs too cheerful. I should hate this about herâand I do. Yet, somehow, she looks good when sheâs happy. Too good. Dangerous, even. She was already creeping into my thoughts, and I needed to put a stop to it.
I glanced at my watch, eager for an excuse to leave. "I think they might need us back with the guests," I said, my tone firm but not unkind. I didnât want to hurt her, even if I wasnât particularly fond of her.
If she was disappointed, she didnât show it. "Oh, sure. Letâs go. But donât think youâre off the hook. Iâll get you to talk someday," she said, her determination unshaken.
"Weâll see," I muttered, unsure whether to admire or resent her persistence.
As we walked back, she tried to start small talk. Maybe if it were anyone else, theyâd appreciate her efforts. Maybe theyâd even like her for it. But not me.
And yet, here I was, having inappropriate thoughts about herâfixating on every small detail. My own mind taunted me, cruel and unrelenting.
I clenched my jaw, trying to silence the traitorous thoughts.
The rest of the day was filled with laughter, conversations, and shared happiness as both families bonded over dinner. As the evening came to an end, the guests began to leave, and it was finally time for us to depart too.
Karan decided to leave first, spotting Ananya's friend, Pooja, preparing to head out. He offered her a ride, but she politely declined. It was clear that Pooja wasnât interested in Karan. Before leaving, she hugged Ananya warmly and whispered something in her ear before walking away.
Karan said his goodbyes to everyone and left shortly after. Now, it was our turn.
I bent down to touch Ananyaâs parentsâ feet as a gesture of respect, and Ananya mirrored the action with my parents before we prepared to leave. My parents, ever insistent, urged me to say goodbye to Ananya. For Godâs sake... I simply nodded at her, keeping it brief.
Finally, we left.
Once we arrived home, I headed straight to my room, relieved to finally breathe. I donât usually stay at my family home; I have my own apartment. However, since itâs my wedding, my mother insisted I stay here for the time being. Otherwise, I wouldnât have agreed to it.
After taking a shower, I got ready for bed. As I lay there in the quiet of my room, my thoughts, unwillingly, drifted to Ananya. I couldnât understand why. I wasnât interested in herâat least, thatâs what I kept telling myself.
Then why was she the one occupying my mind? Why was I imagining things about her that I shouldnât, things I had never thought of before meeting her?
Frustrated, I made a mental note to keep my distance from her. Whatever this was, it needed to stop. Otherwise, she might just become my undoing.
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