Before I begin, I have to sayâI absolutely love learning about different cultures, especially their ceremonies. It fascinates me how beautifully unique and rich traditions can be around the world.
When it comes to India, I found myself deeply intrigued, so I took the time to explore more about their weddings and festivals.
I even spoke with some of my friends from India to get firsthand insights! I genuinely wanted to dive deep into the details for my story, but Iâll have to keep it rush...
From my friendsâ explanations and the research Iâve done, thereâs something called...
1. Baraat â Groomâs arrival
2. Jaimalaâ Exchange of garlands (flower thing)
3. Kanyadaan â Giving away the bride
4. Gath Bandhan â Tying the brideâs cloth to the groomâs scarf (sacred knot or something)
5. Mangal Pheras â Circling the sacred fire (Usually 7 times, i thinkð¤ð¤)
6. Saptapadi â Seven sacred steps/vows
7. Sindoor Daan â Groom applies vermillion to the brideâs hair parting
8. Aashirwad â Receiving blessings from elders
Correct me if I'm missing something above! Hehe! The cultures is pretty beautiful....
So like I said... I will be rushing... and correct me if I make a mistake.
Now back to the story...
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The night air was thick with tension, the faint scent of saltwater drifting from the distant sea. Arjunâs sharp eyes were fixed on the towering stone wall that guarded the mansion like an unyielding beast.
His gaze traced the perimeter with precision, searching for the smallest flaw, the tiniest weakness in its defenses.
Then he saw it.
A section of the wall where the height dipped ever so slightlyâbarely noticeable to an untrained eye, but Arjun wasnât just anyone.
His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he calculated the distance, the angles, the risks. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
Moving like a shadow, he sprinted toward the lowered section, his footsteps silent against the cold ground.
Reaching the base, he didnât slow down. His hands gripped the rough stone, muscles coiling with strength and precision as he scaled the wall with practiced ease.
His body moved fluidly, driven by adrenaline and raw determination.
As he reached the top, he paused, crouched low, and let his eyes roam the sprawling compound below.
His instincts had been rightâthe place was crawling with guards, patrolling in calculated patterns, their weapons gleaming under the dim lights.
Of course. Arjun thought bitterly, his teeth clenched. The Fucker wouldnât make this easy.
Without wasting another second, he dropped down from the wall, landing softly on the ground below with cat-like agility.
But the moment his boots touched the earth, a sharp, piercing sound shattered the stillness.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Alarms blared, slicing through the night like knives. Red lights flashed along the perimeter, casting ominous shadows across the compound.
Arjunâs face twisted with frustration. âStupid sensor.â he muttered through gritted teeth, his fists clenching around the small weapon strapped to his side.
âIntruder!â a voice roared, followed by the heavy thud of boots pounding against the ground. Guards poured into the courtyard like a swarm of hornets, guns raised, eyes sharp as they scanned the area.
Arjun exhaled slowly, pressing his back against the thick trunk of a large tree surrounded by decorative shrubs. The shadows swallowed him whole, masking his presence just long enough to strategize.
A guard broke away from the group, heading straight toward his hiding spot, flashlight sweeping across the ground. Arjunâs breathing slowed, his body coiled like a spring, waiting for the perfect moment.
Closerâ¦
Closerâ¦
Now.
Arjun lunged from the shadows like a viper, swift and deadly.
His arm snaked around the guardâs neck from behind, locking in a brutal chokehold.
The guard struggled, his hands clawing desperately at Arjunâs iron grip, but it was futile. With a sharp twist, a sickening crack echoed in the night, and the manâs body went limp.
Without wasting a second, Arjun dragged the lifeless body back into the cover of the foliage.
His fingers worked quickly, stripping the guard of his uniform and slipping into it with ruthless efficiency.
He pulled the cap low over his face and slid on the dark-tinted security glasses. The disguise wasnât perfect, but it would buy him precious time.
Gripping the stolen rifle, he stepped out into the open, adopting the confident, steady stride of the guards around him. His heart pounded like a war drum, but his face remained an emotionless mask.
âDid anyone see him?â one guard barked as they regrouped.
Arjun shook his head, his voice low and gruff to mimic the tone heâd overheard moments ago. âNo sign yet. Must be hiding somewhere.â
The guards nodded, splitting up again to continue their search.
Arjun moved with them, blending in seamlessly, but his sharp eyes never stopped scanning the mansion. He wasnât just pretending to search for an intruderâhe was the intruder. And he was hunting for one thing.
Meera.
Every second counted. Sooner or later, theyâd discover the unconscious guard hidden behind the tree. When that happened, the alarm would escalate, and all hell would break loose.
I have to find her before that.
Arjunâs eyes darted to a side entrance near the eastern wing of the mansionâless guarded, probably used for staff access.
Without hesitation, he broke off from the group, pretending to receive a radio call on his earpiece.
âGot a lead. Iâll check the east wing.â he muttered, not waiting for a response as he moved swiftly toward the door.
His heart wasnât just racingâit was roaring. Every step, every breath, fueled by one singular purpose;
Iâm coming for you, Meera.
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Meeraâs heart felt like it was caged, beating erratically against her ribs as she was led down the grand staircase.
Her steps were slow, reluctant, as though the weight of her dread anchored her to the marble beneath her feet.
The girls from earlier surrounded her like fragile petals around a wilting flower, their faces neutral but their eyes filled with silent sympathy.
They had tried to soften her appearance with layers of silk and shimmering jewelry, but nothing could mask the lifelessness in her gaze.
Her eyes drifted ahead, catching sight of the mandap adorned with rich fabrics and flickering flames.
The holy fire crackled softly, its warmth a cruel mockery of the cold emptiness gnawing at her heart.
She saw the pandit seated cross-legged, chanting sacred hymns that once symbolized love and union but now felt like nails sealing her fate.
And then her gaze fell on him.
Ranveer.
Dressed impeccably in an ivory sherwani embroidered with gold threads, his face wore a smile that never reached his dark, obsessive eyes.
His dimples, once charming, now seemed like hollow pits carved into a face she despised.
His eyes gleamed with triumph, not affectionâa predator satisfied with his catch.
Is this my fate? Meera thought, her heart clenching painfully as tears brimmed in her eyes.
This wasnât how sheâd imagined her wedding day. As a little girl, sheâd dreamt of walking toward a man she loved, her heart racing with excitement, not fear. Sheâd envisioned laughter, not suffocating silence. Sheâd pictured herself glowing with happiness, not drowning in despair.
But here she wasâbeing paraded like a possession, forced into vows meant to be sacred.
Each step toward Ranveer felt heavier than the last, as if invisible chains dragged behind her.
The vibrant red of her wedding saree felt like bloodstains against her skin, its intricate patterns a prison woven with threads of coercion.
Her bangles jingled softly with each movement, mocking her with their cheerful chime.
Finally, she was guided to sit beside him. Ranveerâs smile grew wider, as if her mere presence beside him was his ultimate victory. Meera kept her gaze distant, refusing to meet his eyes.
But she could feel his stareâpossessive, suffocating.
âYou can begin now.â Ranveerâs voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding.
The pandit nodded and began chanting, his words rhythmic and ancient, echoing in the hollow space where Meeraâs heart used to be.
She sat still, tears silently rolling down her cheeks, leaving trails of despair against her flawless makeup.
"This isnât love." she thought bitterly. This is a nightmare wrapped in silk and gold.
Her eyes flickered to the large double doors guarded by only two men. Hope flickered faintlyâa dying ember in the storm of her fear.
Could I make it if I ran? The question lingered, tempting her, but then Ranveerâs threats echoed in her mind: her family, Veda, the explosives. The price of her rebellion wouldnât just be her own lifeâit would be theirs.
Her trembling fingers brushed the edge of her saree as the pandit paused, signaling the next ritual.
One of the delicate floral garland was placed gently around Meeraâs neck. She flinched slightly at the touch, her skin crawling beneath the weight of it.
Then, another garland was handed to her.
Her fingers wrapped around the fragile string of flowers, feeling as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Ranveer leaned toward her slightly, tilting his head to make it easier for her to complete the ritual. His smug expression screamed victory.
Meeraâs heart screamed no.
Every fiber of her being resisted, her hand frozen mid-air. Her eyes locked onto his, filled with defiance and burning hatred.
But then she rememberedâthe bombs, the threats, the cruel promise of losing everyone she loved. Ranveer didnât just want her obedience; heâd weaponized her love for her family against her.
Her chest heaved with silent sobs as she lowered the garland onto his shoulders, sealing a vow she never wanted to make.
Ranveerâs grin stretched wider, victorious and grotesque. He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers for a fleeting moment, and Meera fought the urge to recoil.
I hate you. she screamed silently in her mind. With every breath I take, I hate you.
The sacred chants of the pandit echoed through the dimly lit hall, blending with the soft crackle of the holy fire.
The flames danced mockingly, casting flickering shadows across Meeraâs tear-streaked face, highlighting the anguish etched into her delicate features.
She felt like an empty shell, her soul hollowed out by fear, despair, and a profound sense of betrayal.
The oppressive weight of the heavy red saree clung to her like chains, suffocating her with every passing second.
Her trembling fingers gripped the fabric of her wedding attire, tied tightly to Ranveerâs scarf in the ritual of Gath Bandhanâa knot that was meant to symbolize eternal union but felt like a noose tightening around her neck.
The pandit's voice grew louder, signaling the nextâand most sacredâritual.
The Mangal Pheras.
Meeraâs heart sank deeper into the abyss. This was it. The step that felt heavy for her. Circling the sacred fire, sealing the vows she never chose to make.
Ranveer took the lead effortlessly, his grip on her hand firm, almost possessive, as he guided her around the fire.
His strides were confident, fueled by the twisted satisfaction of having her under his control.
Meera followed like a lifeless doll, her feet dragging, her tears falling silently. She didnât even bother wiping them away anymore.
With each circle, her hope faded a little more.
One... two... three...
Now it was her turn to lead.
She stopped.
Her feet refused to move, as if the ground itself held her in defiance.
Her heart pounded painfully against her chest, not from fear but from the unbearable weight of resignation. She couldnât do thisânot another step.
Ranveer tugged on the cloth gently at first, then with more force when she didnât respond. His dark eyes narrowed, flashing with irritation.
âBeta, you need to move now.â the pandit urged softly, his voice trembling slightly with the tension in the room.
But Meera stood frozen, her gaze distant, tears blurring her vision.
Ranveerâs patience snapped. His grip tightened painfully on her wrist.
âMeera, move.â he growled through clenched teeth, his jaw ticking with restrained rage.
Her body trembled, but she didnât budge.
âRanveer⦠please⦠this isnât rightââ her voice broke, fragile like glass, her eyes pleading with him, searching for any remnant of humanity in the man she once knew.
But Ranveerâs face twisted with fury. âEnough!â he spat, his voice sharp as a blade. âIf you wonât move, Iâll carry you myself!â
He lunged forward, grabbing her roughly by the waist.
BANG!
A deafening gunshot echoed through the hall.
Meeraâs world seemed to freeze.
Ranveerâs eyes widened in shock before he let out a guttural groan, his grip on her loosening.
Blood blossomed like a dark, ugly flower across the pristine fabric of his groomâs attire.
His hand shot to his arm, trying to stifle the crimson flow seeping through his fingers.
The pandit scrambled away in terror, his chants dying mid-syllable. Gasps filled the room, and Meera stumbled back, her heart racing wildly.
And then she heard it.
That voice.
âDonât stain her with your filthy hands.â
It was sharp, cold, and filled with venom.
Her eyes snapped toward the entrance.
Two lifeless guards lay sprawled across the floor, their weapons discarded beside them.
Standing amidst the chaos, like a storm personified, was Arjun.
His dark eyes burned with fury, his gun still raised, smoke trailing from the barrel.
Blood splattered across his shirt, but none of it was his. His chest heaved with rage, his sharp features carved in stone, deadly and beautiful all at once.
Meeraâs knees nearly buckled.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, they werenât from despair. They were tears of overwhelming reliefâtears of hope.
He came for me.
Arjunâs gaze softened slightly when his eyes met hers, the storm in them calming for just a heartbeat.
But then his focus snapped back to Ranveer, who was groaning, trying to get back on his feet.
âTouch her again, and the next bullet goes through your head.â Arjunâs voice was a deadly promise.
Meeraâs heart screamed his name silently, her soul reaching for him even as her body remained frozen. For the first time in days, a flicker of life sparked within her.
Arjun was here.
And she was finally going home.
Suddenly, The sound of another gunshot ripped through the tense air like a blade, sharp and deafening.
Meeraâs smile, fragile and fleeting, vanished instantly.
Her heart lurched in terrorânot because Arjun had fired the shot, but because he hadnât.
Arjunâs body jerked slightly, his face contorting in a slight discomfort as he let out a low, guttural groan.
His grip on the gun loosened, but sheer will kept it from falling from his hand.
Blood seeped through the fabric of his sleeve, dark and vivid against the white of his shirt, as he instinctively pressed his other hand against the wound, trying to steady himself.
âArjun!â Meeraâs voice cracked, her heart racing faster than it ever had before.
A slow, mocking clap echoed from the shadows, pulling their attention to the side of the room.
âWell, well, if it isnât the most feared man in India Arjun Madhav himself.â came a sultry, venom-laced voice.
From behind a towering pillar stepped Mahira. her expression smug and victorious, a pistol dangling casually in her hand like it was nothing more than an accessory.
Her sharp features were twisted into a cruel grin, her eyes glinting with malice.
Meeraâs breath hitched.
âAnd here I thought youâd be too late for the wedding.â Mahira sneered, slowly strutting into the open, her heels clicking ominously against the cold floor. âBut look at youâright on time. How romantic.â
Meera didnât waste another second. Without thinking, she sprinted toward Arjun, her heart pounding with fear and desperation.
Her trembling hands reaching out to steady him, her fingers stained with his blood as she pressed against his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
âArjun.â she whispered, her voice thick with tears, âIâm here. Iâm right here.â
Arjunâs pain dulled the world around him, but the moment Meeraâs hands touched him, it was like the fog lifted.
Despite the searing heat of the bullet wound in his arm, his gaze softened, locking onto hers.
He didnât care about the pain. He didnât care about the blood.
She was here.
With him.
Helping him. Holding him.
And that was enough to make him smile. A small, weak curve of his lips, but genuineâa rare sight on Arjun Madhavâs face, reserved only for her.
Through the haze of agony, he managed to whisper, his voice rough but filled with warmth, âYouâre safe... thatâs all that matters.â
Meeraâs tears spilled freely now, mixing with the blood on her hands as she tried to keep him...safe.. if that's even possible.. (lmao)
But Mahira wasnât done.
She cocked her gun again, her smile widening into something crueler.
âTouching. Truly. But this isnât how the story ends, sweetheart.â
Meeraâs fear turned to rage. She wasnât going to lose himânot now. Not after everything.
Arjunâs hand tightened slightly around the gun he still held, his smile fading as his dark, furious gaze shifted back to Mahira. Despite the blood loss, despite the pain, his grip steadied.
This wasnât over.
Not yet.
Just then a loud explosion caused the place to slightly shake.
Arjun smirked his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Let's play."
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Hi!!! Hehe! I hope you enjoyed this! Please do not forget to voteðð§ââï¸