Inks and innings

Chp 13

Inks and innings

Chp 13

Authors pov

Divya and Abhimanyue were siting in front of scaried fire with joint hands and listening to priest keenly

They wore the mundavlya on there forehead,waiting for the priest to annoce the next ritiutal

It was kanyadyaan ,divya had tears in her eyes

As the ceremony progressed, the time came for the sacred ritual of Kanya Daan, the giving away of the bride. Divya's father and stepmother began to make their way towards the pavilion, but Divya's steps faltered. Something stirred within her, a defiance born from years of silent suffering.

With a sudden resolve, Divya stepped forward, halting her father and stepmother in their tracks. The priest, taken aback by this interruption, inquired about the cause of the delay. With a voice steady with determination, Divya spoke up.

"Kavita is not my mother," she declared, her words ringing out with a clarity that silenced the murmurs of the gathered guests. "And my father passed away the day my mom left this house."

The priest, understanding the gravity of Divya's revelation, gently probed further, asking what she wished to do instead. Without hesitation, Divya turned her gaze towards her older brother Aryan, her rock, her protector, her guiding light in times of darkness.

"I want my brother Aryan to perform this ritual," she announced, her voice trembling with emotion yet unwavering in its conviction. "He has been my guardian, my mentor, my strength through every hardship."

Her eyes, filled with a mixture of pain and determination, flickered towards Abhimanyu, the man she was being forced to marry against her will. In that moment, every unspoken grievance, every ounce of hurt, reflected in her gaze.

Turning away from the tumultuous emotions swirling around her, Divya approached her brother and sister-in-law, Easha, with a plea in her heart and tears in her eyes. She beseeched them to grant her this one wish, to honor her deepest desires amidst the sea of expectations and obligations.

It was a scene fraught with emotion, with the weight of unspoken truths and buried resentments surfacing to the forefront. But in that moment of vulnerability, Divya found strength in her resolve, determined to carve out a semblance of autonomy in a world that sought to confine her within its rigid confines.

As Divya's words hung heavy in the air, her brother Aryan's eyes glistened with unshed tears. Emotions surged within him, a tumultuous mix of pride in his sister's courage and pain at the burdens she had borne alone. But amidst the storm of conflicting feelings, there was a steadfast resolve to stand by Divya, to support her in this pivotal moment of defiance.

With a nod of understanding and acceptance, Aryan stepped forward, his heart heavy yet determined. Beside him stood Easha, his wife, his partner in both joy and sorrow, her presence a source of strength and solidarity.

Together, they assumed the sacred duty of Kanya Daan, the giving away of the bride. Aryan's hands trembled slightly as he performed the ritual alongside Easha, his sister's hand clasped firmly in his own. Each movement was imbued with solemnity, with the weight of familial bonds that transcended mere tradition.

As they completed the ritual, a sense of quiet reverence descended upon the pavilion. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, with the shared acknowledgment of the sacrifices and struggles that had brought them to this moment.

Through tear-blurred eyes, Aryan looked upon his sister, a beacon of resilience amidst the turmoil. In her steadfast defiance, he saw echoes of their shared past, of the trials they had weathered together. And in that moment, he vowed to stand by her side, come what may, a silent guardian and unwavering support in her journey towards freedom and self-determination.

As the sacred fire flickered and danced, casting its warm glow upon the pavilion, Divya and Abhimanyu stood side by side, their hearts beating in unison with the rhythm of the age-old rituals. The time had come for the solemn exchange of vows, for the binding of their souls in the sacred covenant of marriage.

With each step they took around the sacred fire, they spoke the words of the Saptapadi, the seven wedding vows that would bind them together for eternity. Each vow carried with it the weight of promise, the solemn commitment to honor, cherish, and uphold the sacred bond they were forging.

"In the first step, we vow to nourish each other's bodies, minds, and souls, to strive for physical, mental, and spiritual well-being," Abhimanyu intoned, his voice resonating with sincerity and conviction. Beside him, Divya echoed his words, her gaze locked with his in a silent affirmation of their shared journey ahead.

With each subsequent step, they pledged to uphold the values of loyalty, mutual respect, and unwavering support. They promised to cherish each other's strengths and accept each other's flaws, to walk hand in hand through life's joys and sorrows, triumphs and challenges.

"In the seventh and final step," Abhimanyu proclaimed, his voice ringing with determination, "we vow to remain faithful to each other, to stand by each other through all trials and tribulations, to love and cherish each other for all eternity."

As they completed the seventh round, a sense of profound peace descended upon the pavilion, a palpable reminder of the sacred bond they had forged amidst the flickering flames. In that moment, surrounded by the blessings of loved ones and the timeless wisdom of ancient traditions.

And so the wedding was complete they were married to each other