2

Dastaan Teri Meri Kitni

Ajeeb Hai,

Paas Tu Nahi Phir Bhi

Sabse Kareeb Hai

Daksh pov

I felt Tara freeze beside me. Her face paled, her breath quickening as the implications of those words settled in. I could feel the blood drain from my own face as I turned to look at her. Shaadi? Was this the only way they saw to resolve the situation? A forced marriage to avoid the gossip, to silence the crowd?

"No, this can't happen," a voice cut through the tension.

I turned to see a couple walking toward us. Who are they?

"This can't happen. My daughter isn't like that!" the man said.

So, they are Tara's parents.

Before Devendra could respond, another guy stepped forward, standing defiantly in front of him.

"A few years ago, everyone here saw my sister with a man from another village, and you forced them to get married," he said sharply.

Devendra's jaw tightened as he talked, "Your sister was in love with that man. But my sister doesn't love him."

He was right. Tara and I barely knew each other. How could they expect us to get married?

The other man, replied, "We follow the same rules for everyone in this village. My sister had to marry back then, so now your sister will too. Otherwise, she'll bring shame to our village."

I glanced at Tara. Her face was pale, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. If someone touched her now, she'd break down like a scared child.

But why did it hurt to see her like this? Why was my chest tightening as if I was the one suffocating?

Then I saw it, one tear rolled down her cheek, and my fists clenched.

Damn it. Those tears were because of me.

I couldn't bear it anymore. The weight of her pain felt like it was crushing me. Who was she to me?

Devendra's voice brought me back. "Tara won't marry against her will," he said, but I could see the pressure weighing on him. He was standing up for her, but he was alone in this.

The other man laughed bitterly. "You think you can break traditions? The whole village is watching. If you don't agree, Tara and your family will be sent away from this village."

Tara's father hesitated, looking torn between protecting his daughter and the village's rules. Her mother clung to his arm, pleading silently with her eyes.

I took a step forward without even thinking, placing myself between Tara and the rest of them.

"Enough!" My voice came out sharper than I expected. All eyes turned to me. "If this is about me, then listen carefully, I won't marry Tara unless she agrees. Forcing her isn't going to solve anything."

The man sneered. "You're an outsider. You don't get to make the rules here."

I stepped closer, meeting his glare. "Maybe not, but I won't stand by and let you ruin her life just to uphold some outdated tradition."

"Who are you to talk against us?" One guy asked.

"I am, I am someone you can buy this entire village with one sight." I said and turned towards tara to know her opinion.

Tara's tear-streaked face tilted up toward me, her wide eyes searching mine.

"You... don't have to do this," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yes, I do," I said firmly, keeping my gaze locked on hers. "Because no one else seems to care about what you want."

The crowd murmured, but I didn't care. Tara needed someone to stand up for her, and right now, that someone was me.

Devendra placed a hand on my shoulder. "You don't understand, Daksh. The village won't let this go so easily."

"I don't care," I said, my voice unwavering. "If they want to call me an outcast, fine. But I won't let her suffer because of their rules."

Tara's parents exchanged a look, and her father sighed heavily. "We need to think about this," he said.

The crowd started to disperse, but I knew this wasn't over. The village would be back, and they'd bring more pressure.

Tara stood silently, staring at the ground. I turned to her, my fists finally unclenching. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at me, her lips trembling. "Why... why would you do this for me?"

I hesitated. The truth was, I didn't know why. All I knew was that I couldn't stand to see her like this.

"Because you don't deserve this," I said simply. "No one does."

Her eyes glistened, but this time it wasn't with tears of pain. It was something else. Maybe hope. Maybe relief.

And for the first time, I felt like I had done something right.

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, dark and heavy.

"If your sister doesn't marry now, we won't let her marry in the future," someone from the crowd declared, their tone cutting like a knife.

I saw Devendra tense immediately. His fists clenched, his face twisted with anger, and he took a step forward. For a second, I thought he was going to hit the man who had spoken.

But just as quickly, his father reached out, grabbing his arm. "Dev, stop," he said firmly.

Devendra froze, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in his emotions. I could see it clearly the struggle between his role as Tara's protective brother and his duty as the sarpanch. He wasn't just a man defending his sister; he was a person being forced to make a decision under the pressure of tradition and the village's eyes.

The crowd wasn't patient. "Come on, sarpanch ji," another voice called out, sharper this time. "Give us your decision!"

All eyes were on Devendra, but his were on Tara. He looked at her, his expression torn, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he was about to say. Tara was staring at the ground, her whole body trembling as if bracing herself for the inevitable.

Devendra took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking. His voice was steady but hollow.

"Tara will get married today."

The words were final, unyielding. He turned and walked away without looking back.

The crowd murmured in agreement, satisfied, and they began to disperse, leaving us behind.

I stood there, frozen. What did he just say? Tara will get married? Today? To me?

I turned to Tara, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. She was breaking down right in front of me, her knees buckling as she collapsed to the ground. Her sobs were quiet at first, but they grew louder, raw and heart-wrenching.

I didn't think. My feet moved before I could even process what I was doing, and in a moment, I was kneeling beside her.

"Tara..." I said softly, but she didn't even look at me. She was curled into herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if trying to hold herself together.

Her cries pierced through me, each one twisting the knife deeper. Why did it feel like her pain was mine? Why did it hurt so much to see her like this?

"Tara," I said again, more firmly this time. I reached out hesitantly, my hand hovering over her shoulder before I finally placed it there.

She flinched at first but then looked up at me, her tear streaked face breaking what little control I had left. Her lips quivered, and her voice came out in a whisper, barely audible.

"I don't want this, Daksh ji... I don't want this," she said, shaking her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.

My throat tightened. "I know," I said, my voice soft but steady. "I know you don't. I'm sorry, Tara. I'm so, so sorry."

I didn't know what else to say. What could I say? That this wasn't fair? That she didn't deserve this? She already knew that.

Without thinking, I shifted closer and wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened for a moment before collapsing into me, her hands clutching my shirt as if it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

Her sobs shook both of us, each one slicing deeper into my chest. I didn't know what I was doing. All I knew was that I couldn't let her face this alone.

"I'll make this right," I whispered into her hair, though I wasn't sure how. "I promise, Tara. I won't let them break you."

She didn't say anything, just cried harder. But in that moment, as I held her trembling form in my arms, I knew one thing for certain. I wasn't going to let anyone hurt her not now, not ever.

■

The next hour passed in a blur, and before I knew it, Tara and I were standing together, about to get married. She stood a few feet away, tears streaming down her face as her parents tried to talk to her. She looked so fragile, like a glass about to shatter.

I, on the other hand, stood alone, lost in my thoughts. What would my parents say if they found out about this? My dad's reaction flashed in my mind, and I instinctively touched my cheek, imagining the smack he would give me for getting into a mess like this.

My thoughts broke when I noticed Devendra standing beside me. He was silent for a moment before he turned to me with a serious expression.

"Aapki shaadi ho chuki hai?" he asked.

(Have you gotten married?)

I shook my head. "Nahi."

(No)

"Koi girlfriends?" he asked, his tone casual but probing.

(Any girlfriends?)

I sighed and shook my head again. "Nahi."

(No)

He stared at me for a moment before his expression hardened. "Dekho, Daksh tum jaise ameer log hamesha ham jaise logon ka faida uthaate hain," he said, his voice sharp.

(Look, Daksh, rich people like you always take advantage of people like us)

His words hit me like a slap. I blinked at him, completely taken aback. "Devendra ji, aap kya baat kar rahe hain? Maine kisi ka faida nahi uthaya," I said, my voice rising slightly in defense.

(Devendra ji, what are you talking about? I haven't taken advantage of anyone)

He narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer. "Phir uss kamre mein meri behen ke saath kya kiya aapne?"

(But what did you do with my sister in that room)

I froze. My mind scrambled for the right words, but before I could stop myself, the truth slipped out in the worst possible way.

"Oh god, kitni baar bolu... hum bas saath mein soye the," I blurted out, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I slapped my hand over it, realizing how bad that sounded.

(How many times I have to tell, we just slept togther)

Devendra's expression didn't change, but the way he nodded his head and walked away sent a chill down my spine. He didn't say anything else, and that silence felt more dangerous than any words he could've spoken.

I stood there, my heart racing, realizing I had just made everything a hundred times worse.

As Devendra walked away, my mind raced. What did I just do? I slapped my forehead in frustration. Of all the things I could've said, I had to blurt that out? Now he probably thinks the worst of me.

I glanced over at Tara. She was still crying softly, her parents whispering reassurances to her, but their words didn't seem to be reaching her. My chest tightened. I knew I had no right to feel anything, but guilt clawed at me nonetheless.

The priest's voice called out, signaling that it was time to begin the ceremony. I felt the weight of the moment pressing down on me as the villagers started gathering around us, murmuring among themselves.

Devendra returned, standing near Tara, his eyes boring into me like he was trying to read every thought in my head. I tried to avoid his gaze, but it was impossible.

"Daksh ji," he called out, his voice cold.

I hesitated before stepping closer. "Ji?"

He looked at me for a long moment, then spoke in a tone that made it clear there was no room for argument. "You better take care of her. If I see even one tear in my sister's eyes because of you, I swear, I'll make sure you regret it."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "I understand. I won't hurt her."

Tara's father stepped forward, his face weary and filled with sadness. He took Tara's hand, guiding her toward me. She didn't look at me, her gaze fixed on the ground, her tears still falling.

"Tara," her father said softly, "you need to be strong, beta. This is your destiny now."

Her shoulders trembled, but she didn't respond. I reached out hesitantly, my hand hovering over hers before I finally took it. Her fingers were cold, trembling in mine.

The priest began the rituals, chanting mantras that felt distant, almost surreal. As the fire burned brightly between us, I couldn't shake the feeling of how wrong this all was. This wasn't how a marriage was supposed to feel.

When the time came, I took the mangalsutra and tied it around her neck. Tara flinched slightly but didn't move away. The sindoor followed, the red powder marking the final step.

"It's done," the priest announced.

The villagers cheered softly, satisfied, while Tara's parents wiped their tears. But Tara stood there, unmoving, her face pale and emotionless.

I turned to her, unsure of what to say or do. "Tara," I said quietly, but she didn't respond. She pulled her hand away from mine, turning toward her family.

"Can I go home now?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Her mother's face fell, but she nodded. "No, beta... your home is with him now," she said, her voice breaking.

Tara looked at me then, her eyes filled with so much pain that I had to look away.

This wasn't just a marriage. It felt like a sentence.

Tara's words echoed in my mind. "Can I go home now?" Her voice had been so fragile, so broken, and I could still see the raw pain in her eyes. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

Her parents tried to comfort her, but she stood stiffly, almost lifeless. The villagers began to disperse, murmuring about the event, but I stayed rooted in place, unsure of what to do next.

Devendra stepped forward, his expression unreadable. He looked at me, his jaw tight, and then turned to Tara. "Tara," he said softly, "you'll be fine."

His words were meant to comfort her, but they sounded more like a command, as if he was willing her to accept this situation. Tara didn't respond. She just stared at the ground, her shoulders trembling.

Devendra sighed and then looked at me again, his eyes hard. "Daksh ji, remember what I said. My sister's happiness is your responsibility now."

I nodded, my throat dry. "I... I understand."

He gave me one last look before walking away with his father. Tara's parents lingered, her mother brushing back her hair and whispering something I couldn't hear. Tara nodded faintly, but her tears didn't stop.

Finally, they stepped back, leaving the two of us alone. The silence was unbearable.

"Tara," I began hesitantly, but she cut me off.

"Don't," she said, her voice cold and distant. "Just don't say anything."

Her words stung, but I didn't blame her. How could I? She had every right to hate me, to hate this entire situation.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be, but for now, all I could do was respect her wishes and hope that time would ease the wounds we both carried.

After some time, Tara's parents approached her. Her mother gently cupped her face, whispering words I couldn't hear. Her father stood beside her, his expression torn between worry and helplessness.

"Tara, you have to go now," her mother said softly, her voice cracking. "This is your new life, beta. Whatever happend is happened".

Tara didn't respond at first. Her head stayed low, her fingers gripping the edge of her dupatta tightly. Then, after a long pause, she nodded faintly. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a heavy decision was being made.

I stepped forward, unsure of how to act. Opening the car door for her felt like the only thing I could do. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. Her movements were mechanical, her eyes avoiding mine completely.

As I closed the door and turned back, I felt a sharp gaze on me. Devendra stood nearby, his arms crossed, his stare unwavering. The tension between us was palpable. His eyes seemed to be throwing accusations, warnings, and threats all at once.

I didn't back down. Our eye contact locked, intense and unyielding. I wanted to tell him with my stare alone that I would never hurt Tara, no matter what the circumstances. But I also knew he wasn't ready to trust me.

Neither of us spoke a word, but the silence was deafening. It wasn't until I finally stepped into the car that the connection broke.

I know I am doing all this so a girl doesn't suffer in her future.

As the engine roared and the car started moving, I glanced back at Devendra through the rearview mirror. He was still standing there, watching us leave, his figure rigid and unshakable.

Inside the car, tara sat quietly beside me, her face turned toward the window. She didn't say a word, and I didn't dare break the silence.

How had my life turned upside down so quickly? How did I go from being a stranger in this village to becoming someone's husband?

But more than anything, one question echoed louder than the rest.

How was I supposed to fix this?

"Suno Tara, main ek lawyer hire karta hoon takki hamari divorce jaldi ho jaye... so that you can go back to your home," I said, my voice calm but direct.

(Listen Tara I will hire a goof lawyer so that we will get divorce soon)

"Divorce?" she repeated, her voice rising in shock.

"Haan," I replied simply, watching her expression shift from surprise to disbelief.

"Nahi, nahi, aisa nahi ho sakta," she said, shaking her head. "Ek baar shaadi ho jaye toh zindagi bhar usko nibhana padta hai. Mere dadi ne bola tha aisa."

(Once you get married, you have to live with it for life. My grandmother had told me this)

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "Aur tumhari dadi ne yeh nahi bola ki ek ladke ke saath kamre mein raho toh uska matlab hamesha galat nahi hota?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

(And didn't your grandmother say that staying in a room with a man doesn't always have the wrong meaning?)

She looked at me, wide-eyed. "Aap mazaak kar rahe hain," she said, turning her head away in irritation.

(You are joking)

I shook my head slightly, a small smile playing on my lips at her stubbornness. But then I sobered up, leaning slightly toward her.

"Tara, sach mein," I said seriously. "Tum yeh shaadi nibhaane ke liye tayar ho? I mean, koi majboori ya zabardasti nahi hai. Tumhare paas choice hai."

(Tara, are you really ready to go through with this marriage? I mean, there is no pressure or force. You have a choice)

She turned her face toward me, her expression softening as she thought about my words. For the first time since this whole ordeal started, I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

Tara stayed silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on her hands as she fidgeted nervously. I could tell she was struggling to find the right words.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Majboori ka toh sawaal hi nahi uthta. Maine toh sirf apni dadi ke kahaaniyon par yakeen kiya tha... ki shaadi ek zindagi bhar ka rishta hota hai. Par yeh sab..." She trailed off, her voice trembling.

(There is no question of any compulsion. I just believed in my grandmother's stories... that marriage is a lifelong bond. But all this...)

I nodded, understanding her turmoil. "Tara, main bas itna chahte hoon ki tum apne dil ki suno. Jo tumhare liye sahi lagta hai, wahi karo. Agar tum is shaadi ko nibhaana chahti ho, toh main samajh sakta hoon. Par agar tumhe lagta hai ki yeh tumhare liye galat hai, toh main hamesha tumhare saath hoon."

(Tara, I just want you to listen to your heart. Do what feels right for you. If you want to go through with this marriage, I can understand. But if you feel that it's wrong for you, I will always be with you.)

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Aap... aap itne achhe kyun hain? Aap toh yeh sab thop bhi sakte the mujh par, par aap aise nahi kar rahe."

(Why... why are you so good? You could have forced all this on me, but you're not doing that.)

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "Achha? Tara, mujhe bhi yeh sab achanak se mila hai. Main samajhta hoon tumhare emotions, kyunki mujhe bhi wahi confusion ho raha hai. Par jab tak hum dono iss situation mein hain, main sirf yeh chahte hoon ki tum khush raho."

(Really? Tara, I also got all this suddenly. I understand your emotions because I'm feeling the same confusion. But as long as we're in this situation, all I want is for you to be happy.)

Her lips quivered, and for a moment, I thought she would cry again. But instead, she straightened up and wiped her eyes. "Theek hai," she said softly, her voice steadying. "Main sochungi."

(Ok I will think about it)

I nodded, not wanting to push her further. "Theek hai, Tara. Socho, aur mujhe batao. Tumhare faisle ka main hamesha sammaan karunga."

(Alright, Tara. Think about it and let me know. I will always respect your decision.)

The car fell into silence after that, but it wasn't as heavy as before. She leaned her head against the window, lost in thought.

Even though we hadn't figured anything out yet, I felt a strange sense of calm. At least now, we had started to talk maybe, just maybe, that was the first step toward finding a way out of this mess.

After some time, we finally reached our home. Tara looked out of the window at the large mansion in front of us, her eyes wide with surprise. All the guards bowing their head down infront of my car.

"Yeh aap ka ghar hai?" she asked, her voice a mix of awe and curiosity.

(Is this your house?)

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Nahi, yeh padosan ka ghar hai. Hum toh bas sadak mein rehte hain," I said, teasing her a little.

(No this is our neighbours house, we stay on the road)

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not sure if I was joking or being serious. But then, her face softened, and she muttered under her breath, "Aap hume kyun itna thang karte ho?"

(Why do you trouble me so much?)

Her words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I just stared at her, blinking. I felt my cheeks flush a little. She wasn't angry, but there was a slight pout on her face that made me feel... flustered.

I cleared my throat, trying to cover up my sudden blush. "Main... main sirf yeh keh raha tha ke hum aapke liye sab kuch ache se karenge," I stammered a bit, trying to explain myself.

(I... I was just saying that I will do everything well for you.)

She gave me a small, teasing smile, and for the first time since we started this strange journey together, I felt a sense of warmth between us. It wasn't exactly friendship, but it felt like something in the right direction.

"Chaliye," I said, trying to shift the mood. "Hum ghar chalein."

(Come let's go)

As I opened the car door and stepped out, Tara followed quietly, still processing everything. But there was a slight shift in her expression, a softening that hadn't been there before. I couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to feel a little more comfortable in this situation.

I knocked on the door, my hand trembling slightly. The moment the door swung open, my sister's face turned pale as she saw me standing there with Tara. She looked like she had seen a ghost, her eyes widening in disbelief. Without saying a word, she quickly called my parents over, and within seconds, my mom and dad appeared at the doorway, their expressions a mix of confusion and shock.

"Daksh, tu kya kiya? Aur yeh ladki kaun hai?" My mom asked, her voice shaking with surprise and concern.

(Daksh what did you do? And who is this girl?)

I could feel Tara stiffen beside me, her nervousness radiating off her. She was terrified of the situation, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Without thinking, I instinctively wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer to me.

"Yeh meri biwi hai. Hum shaadi karke aa rahe hain," I said, my voice steady but firm, though I could feel the weight of the words sinking in.

(She is my wife. We got married and came here)

The gasps from my family were immediate. My mom's face went even paler, while my dad's expression turned into one of anger and disbelief.

"Ye kya batamezi hai?" my dad thundered, his voice rising with fury. He looked between Tara and me, his eyes filled with disappointment and frustration.

(What's this rudeness?)

My mom, still trying to process everything, stood frozen in place, her hands trembling slightly as she glanced back and forth between us.

After a long, tense silence, my parents turned and walked inside without saying another word, leaving me standing there with Tara. The heavy weight of their anger and confusion hung in the air, and I could feel the tension building between us.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my own nerves. I wasn't sure what would happen next, but for the moment, all I could do was keep my arm around Tara, reassuring her in silence. She was just as scared as I was, maybe even more.

We stepped inside, and I led her to my room. The silence between us was thick, and I could feel the weight of everything happening around us. As I left briefly to grab her some clothes, I returned with a pair of my sister's jeans and a top.

"Yeh main nahi pehenti," she said, her voice hesitant.

( I won't wear these)

I sighed, trying to be gentle. "Par meri behen ke paas kuch aur nahi hai, aur wo traditional kapde nahi pehenti. Tumhe yeh pehna hoga."

(But my sister doesn't have anything apart of this and she doesn't wear traditional dresses like you. You have to wear this)

After a bit of coaxing, she finally agreed to wear the jeans. When she came out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but notice how different she looked yet still, she was undeniably beautiful. The change in her appearance seemed to reflect the change in her situation, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her.

I then brought her some food. "Yeh khao," I said, placing the plates on the table.

(Eat this)

She looked at the dishes, confused. "Yeh kya hai?"

(What is this?)

"White sauce pasta aur garlic bread with some vegetables. Mere ghar mein yeh hi khaa jaate hain," I explained.

(We only eat this in our house)

She hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure, but I knew she hadn't eaten anything in a while. Finally, she took a bite. It seemed like it was the first time she'd tasted something like this, and I couldn't help but feel a little concerned about how unfamiliar this might be for her.

After she finished eating, I stood up and said, "Aap kamre mein so jao, main dusre room mein sounga."

(You sleep in this room I will go and sleep in another room)

She looked up at me, her eyes still holding some uncertainty. "Kyun? Aap bhi yehin kamre mein so jao," she suggested.

(Why? You also sleep in this room)

I smiled softly, though it was bittersweet. "Bas ek baar tumhare saath ek kamre mein so liya, ab hum yahan he," I said, trying to keep the mood light.

(One take I slept with you in same room and look we are here)

With that, I walked out of the room. "Good night, Tara. Agar kuch chahiye ho, toh bula lena."

(If you need anything call me)

I heard her quietly say "good night" in response, and I closed the door softly behind me. As I walked to the other room, I couldn't help but think about everything that had led us here and what the future would hold for both of us.

Soon I headed to other room while calling my PA. "Listen till tomorrow morning I need all types of traditional wear dresses in my home along with jewelry." I said and hung up the call. But wait, why am I doing this?

To be continued

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