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Bhavya Bhanushali is a famous archaeologist in Rome who always loves finding new things. She had to live with her grandparents in Rome after her parents passed away when she was young, but she really likes living with them.
But now, she's go...
We manage to enjoy the rest of our shopping spree, buying matching jhumkas and other accessories. Once we're done, we head to the nearby cinema for our movie. As we lose ourselves in the film, the earlier tension fades away, replaced by laughter and shared moments.
By the time we board the bus back home, the encounter with Ratan feels like a distant memory. Instead, I'm grateful for the friendship that turned what could've been a bad day into a great one.
I look at the saree and jewelry laid out on my bed. Today's the day for the pooja at Rathore Haveli. I feel nervous, thinking about facing them. Part of me wants to pretend I'm sick and skip it, but another part says I have to confront them eventually.
"No, Bhavya, you have to face them sooner or later. Why not today?" I tell myself, trying to gather the courage I need for the gathering.
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I carefully put on the white saree with its beautiful patterns. The jewelry sparkles softly, and I decide to keep my makeup simple to match the elegance of the outfit. Looking at myself in the mirror, I feel a mix of nerves and anticipation about the upcoming pooja at Rathore Haveli.
Taking a deep breath, I go downstairs to join Maasi and Mausa. Their faces light up when they see me, and I can see a range of emotions in their eyes.
"Bhavya, kitni sundar lag rahi ho baccha.(Bhavya, you look stunning)," Maasi says, her voice filled with emotion. ""Bilkul apni Maa jaise.("You look just like your mother,)" she adds.
Mausa nods, his expression proud yet sad. "Yes, you resemble your mother a lot."
Hearing about my mother brings a rush of feelings. I feel a lump in my throat and a tear threatening to fall, but I manage to smile thankfully. Mausa's agreement only makes the emotions stronger.
"Thank you," I say, my voice full of gratitude and sadness.
Maasi's hand rests gently on my shoulder. "You make us proud, Bhavya. Your mother would have been so happy to see you like this." Tears gather in my eyes, reflecting the unshed tears in theirs.
Despite their emotional reactions, they ask me once again. "Are you sure, Bhavya? You don't have to attend if it makes you uncomfortable."
I take a moment, meeting their caring gaze. "No, Maasi, Mausa. I want to go. I need to face this, for myself and for them."
We share a solemn moment before heading to the car. During the drive to Rathore Haveli, my mind races with thoughts. What will happen when I step into that place? What awaits me there? Uncertainty fills me, but determination drives me forward.
