EHSAAS - A Collection Of Short Stories

1.

Six months ago they took divorce. And Heer left india. Reason? Nobody knows! All she left behind was a note penning these four words in it.

I HATE THIS MAN!

Two years of marriage, two years of building a life together, reduced to a venomous echo. No explanation, no goodbye, just a void that screamed of her pain.

And here I stood, Meera, the dutiful younger sister, the one who always picked up the pieces. The one who never raised a voice or a question to anything.

"Place your hand in mine", Virat's authoritative tone put a full stop on my thoughts. I did as he said.
I placed my hand on his, feeling as though I was also surrendering myself to him. Viraat's touch was a foreign sensation, a cold hand on my spine as he led me through the rituals

Pandit ji started to chant some mantra and again I couldn't make sense out of anything.

Viraat, nine years my senior, his face etched with the cynicism of a man who had seen the best and worst of humanity in his life. His storm-cloud eyes held no warmth, no flicker of the love he supposedly shared with Heer.

I am a coward who couldn't express her dissent for this marriage but Virat.....

Viraat, they said, needed a wife, a living, breathing trophy to quiet the whispers, a bandage on his bleeding reputation. And I, apparently, was the perfect candidate, the ideal replacement for the ghost that haunted his life.

But as I was sitting beside him the only thing I could think of was,"What had he done to her that she hated him?" I questioned in my mind. With that question in my eyes I looked at him. He loved her I have seen their pictures. They were so in love. What have you done virat? What have you done to her?

We met once before this wedding where he made it clear that I should not expect anything from this marriage. But, a part of me, the part that still believed in fairytales, dared to hope.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be a new beginning. Maybe beneath Viraat's icy exterior lay a flicker of something warm, something human. Maybe, in time, we could build something new from the ashes of their broken marriage.

But as he stood across the fire, his face an unreadable mask, my hope died right then and there. He looked at me, not as a bride, but as a stranger, a duty reluctantly fulfilled.

His gaze, cold and distant, swept over me like a winter wind, leaving goosebumps on every inch of my body. And in his eyes, I saw a reflection of my own fear, a chilling confirmation that this was not a marriage of love, but a pact forged in the fires of desperation.

✧

"Vadhu ki mang me sindoor bhariye", as pandit ji said Virat did. For some reason my heart was pounding at this point.
I am no longer Meera Awasthi. Now I am Mrs. Malhotra.

Mrs. Meera Malhotra

The rest of the ceremony was a blur of chanting mantras, forced smiles, and people's whispers.

✧

We were in his car, with five cars in front of us and five behind us. We were heading to his house, Malhotra House. It was quiet in the car. We never talked before. I thought maybe he prefers silence or doesn't like being around me.

Suddenly, he turned right, away from the way to Malhotra House. Other cars kept going there, but we didn't.
I wanted to say something but his aura seems so dominant that I couldn't utter a single word.

His eyes were fixed on the road, and mine were on him. His features, like his personality, were a study in contradictions.

His hair, a dark, messy that framed a face etched with intelligence and kindness.

There was a gentleness in his eyes, the color of melted chocolate. Yet, those same eyes could flash with the brilliance of a scalpel, sharp and focused, leaving you in no doubt of his intellect.

His lips, full and surprisingly soft-looking, remained mostly a straight line, a wall guarding a smile I haven't seen since the day we met.

But it was his hands that truly captivated me. Hands not of a warrior, but of a healer, strong yet gentle, nimble enough to mend a broken butterfly wing. Yet, he cut Heer's wings. And now, mine.

He has a great physique but no matter how beautiful your exterior is if your heart is black then nothing can make you look attractive.

He noticed me looking at him. That sharp glance he gave me before turning his head straight on the road and increased the speed of the car.

My knuckles clenched, the saffron silk of my lehenga gripped tightly in my fist. I gathered all my courage and spoke,"Where are we going?" my voice barely a whisper.

He remained silent. His jaw, sharp seemed to clench in the dim car light. "Apartment," he finally muttered, his voice was rough.

So, we are not living with rest of the family members? I wanted to ask. But, I couldn't. The last question took all my courage. Now I am empty.

I guess he read my face because he said,"I don't live with Malhotra's "

Why? - Again, I couldn't ask. And, again he read the question but he chose to not answer this one.

Within a few minutes we reached there. He stopped the car and went out.

So, is he going to leave? Without me?

Surprisingly he came and opened the gate for me. A servant took our luggage to the apartment. Virat went towards the private elevator and I followed him. The gate of the elevator opened to a grand living room.

A grand living room, open and airy, bathed in moonlight through floor-to-ceiling windows. Modern furniture, sharp and sleek, danced with shadows. In the center, a grand piano. Piano? Does he like to play piano?

"I'll be in the study," he announced. His voice was a clear indication of not to enter there, and firmly denied any hint of shared space. He disappeared into a room lined with books, leaving me like a misplaced doll in a child's forgotten playhouse.

A servant came and showed me the way towards my room. The bedroom is large and luxurious, with a king-size bed that takes center stage. The bed is covered in a plush white comforter and surrounded by oversized pillows. The tones seemed perfect for my taste.

"This is your life Meera. Adjust accordingly",I mumbled to myself. It was also the first night. And my nervousness was killing me inside. All of this was new to me. The sense of belongingness, this feeling....it was unsettling. I roamed around the room to take a better look at everything.

♡

That's it for today's chapter. Not my best work but not the worst either(I hope so :⁠-⁠D )

Think of it like a first pancake - slightly burnt, maybe a little bit bland, but hopefully still delicious. Feedback welcome, especially if it comes with sprinkles! ✨

~ Aastha