Hello guys!
I am extremely sorry for the delay in updating.
However, I assure it won't be repeated.
Anyways, here comes the next update.
Also, we crossed 500 reads on this book. I am so so delighted. It really means a lot to me! Thank you to all of you!
Keep showering your love!
❃
//चुप माही चुप है रांझा, बोले कैसे वे ना जा
बोले कैसे वे ना जा, आजा आजा//
❃
11th February 2019, Chandigarh
9 PM
Dear Diary,
It's been three months since Kabir and I got married.
Three months, all passed by in a blink!
Kabir stayed for a week after our wedding before he reported back to his duty.
Those cherished days!
Those days were filled with shy smiles that spoke volumes of our affection, warm embraces that enveloped us in a cocoon of happiness, and strong promises that sealed our love for eternity.
They held a unique magic, bounding Kabir and me into more and more love for each other.
Our hearts danced in harmony, and our souls found solace in each other's presence, making those days an unforgettable chapter in the story of our love.
That day, after our Anand Karaj, which was followed by a scrumptious lunch, I bade my goodbye to my family and set off to a new life, a new home.
Kabir's family welcomed me with wide smiles and open arms. His mom did a little aarti of us and I performed the Griha Pravesh ritual by kicking a small kalash filled with rice with my right foot, hoping to be blessed with prosperity and abundance in our home.
We entered inside and were ushered to a prayer hall. Kabir and I bowed down in front of Guru Granth Sahib and a huge photograph of Guru Nanak ji.
Keerti then took me to Kabir's bedroom for a short rest before we went ahead with some post-wedding rituals. I was tired as hell, and I dozed off.
Evening soon fell, and as I sat up, I heard a light knock on the door and found my mother-in-law. She entered and greeted me with a gracious smile, saying, "Hope you rested well."
She gave me an orange suit set with matching jewellery. The suit was really pretty, with orange angarakha style kurta, matching palazzos, and a bandhej organza dupatta.
"I had been planning to buy you a saree, but Kabir told me that you don't like wearing them, so I decided to go with this. Do you like it?" She asked.
I nodded enthusiastically, replying, "I do, Mom!"
She took my hands in hers and continued, "You're too kind, beta! You've brought so much happiness to Kabir's life. My boy is really lucky to have you. May God bless you and Kabir with all the happiness in the world."
We shared a warm smile before she added, "Get ready soon; we're all waiting downstairs. Call me or Keerti if you need any help."
I nodded and watched her leave the room.
I quickly got ready and then hurried downstairs.
Kabir and I proceeded with various post-wedding rituals.
The most exciting of all was the ring-finding ritual. A large bowl filled with milk, flower petals, and other items was placed between us. A ring was dropped into the bowl, and Kabir and I had to search for it three times. It's believed that whoever finds the ring wins the game and 'rules' the household.
Kabir won the first round, but I managed to win the second.
As the third round began, my fingers just couldn't seem to locate that damn ring.
Kabir found it and was about to take his hand out of the bowl to show everyone, but I stopped him by holding his hand and pushing it back into the bowl.
Taken aback by my actions, he looked at me with a questioning gaze.
I leaned closer to him and whispered in the softest voice I could muster, "How about letting me win this round?"
"Are you trying to ask an army officer to lose a battle?" he raised an eyebrow and asked.
I leaned in even closer, grazing my lips against his cheek, then gazed at him with the best puppy eyes and pout I could manage.
"Now?" I whispered.
He smiled and said, "Are you trying to bribe me, Mrs. Sethi?"
I whispered back, "What if I am, Captain Sethi? Are you convinced?"
He chuckled, "Well, I've already surrendered my heart to you. What's a ring in comparison?"
I felt his hands placing the ring into mine inside the bowl.
With a smile, I withdrew my hand and proudly showed everyone that I had won.
One of Kabir's cousins teased him, saying, "Kyaa bhai, how can you lose?"
Kabir replied with a grin, "I have already won the biggest battle of my life - her heart."
I had lost the game, but I knew I had won in life.
Next, we had the Kangna Khulai ritual. It was a joyful ceremony where Kabir and I had to untie the seven knots of the Kangna, the sacred thread tied to our wrists before our wedding. During this ritual, I could use both hands, while Kabir was restricted to only one hand at a time.
Kabir was having a hard time opening the knots of my thread with one hand.
"I had no idea your hands were so feeble, Captain Sahab," I teased.
He smiled and leaned in, his warm breath caressing my ear as he whispered, "How about I show you my strength somewhere else?"
My cheeks turned crimson at his words.
The day unfolded with gentle teasing from his family, secret glances exchanged between Kabir and me, as well as my getting to know his family better, all culminating in a heavenly dinner.
The next morning, Kabir's parents organized an ardaas.
With our heads bowed before the Guru Granth Sahib, we offered our heartfelt gratitude to the Almighty for bestowing us with each other. We sought divine guidance towards prosperity and everlasting happiness, and in the softest of whispers, we exchanged vows of love and unwavering fidelity.
But my joy evaporated when I was called to perform the Chauka Chandana ritual.
In that moment, my sweet mother-in-law seemed like a villainous saas from an Indian TV drama to me, as she asked me to make halwa.
With the sheer embarrassment that would have followed, I couldn't muster the courage to admit that I didn't know how to make the halwa.
In that moment, there I stood, right in the midst of the huge kitchen, the stove staring back at me, my fingers fidgeting with my phone, desperately attempting to call my mother.
But why on earth would she pick up the phone?
I dialed Chiki, my father, but it seemed like everyone in my family had collectively abandoned their phones.
I tried surfing YouTube searching for how to make halwa, but my phone and internet connection appeared to be having a nasty breakup.
Tears welled up within me, threatening to burst forth.
That's when my phone rang.
It was my dear husband.
"Hello, Mrs.," I heard Kabir's voice.
I responded irritably, "What do you want, Kabir?"
He chuckled and replied, "Halwa."
"Kabirrr," I whined.
He softened his tone and said, "Okay, okay, relax, jaan. Why didn't you tell Mom that you don't know how to make halwa?"
I explained, "All the women from your family were there. It would have been so embarrassing!"
"Alright, tell me, do you really want to make the halwa?" he asked.
"Of course!" I replied with determination.
He sighed and instructed, "Okay, then, do as I say."
Kabir patiently narrated the entire halwa recipe as I diligently followed each step.
"Now, garnish it with dry fruits, and then serve it in bowls," he guided through the phone.
I complied with his instructions, then carried the tray filled with bowls outside.
I closed my eyes as I witnessed everyone taking their first bites of the halwa.
"Wow, this is delicious."
"Too good, Meera!"
"This is heavenly, Bhabhi."
I heard the voices, and that's when I dared to open my eyes.
I saw everyone smiling and showering me with praise.
I couldn't believe it. For the first time, I had cooked something without turning the kitchen into a disaster, and everyone loved it.
My mother must be genuinely proud of me today.
My in-laws showered me with gifts and blessings. I noticed Kabir looking at me with that heartwarming smile of his, and in return, I beamed at him as I silently mouthed an "I love you."
Later that night, we had our reception. I dolled up in a stunning dusty rose heavily embroidered lehenga with polki necklace, earrings and bangles set. Kabir complemented in a black tuxedo.
We laughed from the depths of our hearts, our smiles illuminated the room, we danced with joy, sipped on delightful drinks, savored delicious food, engaged in lively conversations, and had the pleasure of meeting so many wonderful people.
It was a celebration filled with love and laughter!
At night, Kabir and I returned to our bridal chamber. The room was adorned with flowers and fragrant candles, their soft glow casting a warm, intimate ambiance.
Kabir, ever the gentleman, approached me slowly, his eyes filled with adoration. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair away from my face, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.
My heart raced as I looked into his eyes, my love for him deepening with every passing moment.
I reached out and took his hand, pulling him closer. "And you," I replied softly, "are the most handsome man. The love of my life, and my greatest joy."
In our candlelit room, he gently caressed my face, igniting a fire of desire between us.
"Meera, I love you," he murmured before sealing our love with a fervent kiss that left us breathless.
As we embraced, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us in the cocoon of love and desire. The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls as our love blazed brighter than ever before.
The next morning, Kabir and I headed off to my parents' home for the PagPhera.
I wore a red plain suit with matching palazzos and dupatta. The palazzos and dupatta adorned with red floral patterns. I put on a pair of earrings and red bangles.
My parents welcomed Kabir and I with lot of love and affection.
I spent the whole day talking to my maa, watching tv with papa, bickering with Chiki and relishing my maa's delicious food.
In the evening, maa made golgappas. It's mine and Kabir's favourite snack in the entire world.
"How about we have a competition to see who can eat more golgappa?" Chiki suggested.
She and I had been having this competition since childhood.
"Ohh yess!", I happily agreed, "Come on, Chiki!"
"Nope, not me, how about you and Jiju compete this time?", she smiled and said.
I looked at Kabir and grinned, "What say? Are you up for the competition, Captain Sethi?"
"If you say, Mrs. Sethi.", he answered.
We began the competition.
Maa gave us the first golgappa, and as I put it in my mouth, my taste buds froze. It was spicy, not the usual spicy, but the spiciest golgappa I had ever eaten.
I managed the second, and the spiciness again hit me.
I turned to look at Kabir, the guy was casually eating, relishing the golgappas.
With each bite, the intense heat coursed through my mouth, setting my tongue ablaze. I couldn't contain the burning sensation that spread like wildfire. I desperately tried to chew and swallow, but the spices clung to my taste buds, refusing to be subdued.
I could not eat past the fourth golgappa. My eyes welled up with tears as the spices continued their fiery assault on my taste buds, and I reached for my glass of water, seeking refuge.
"I...I can...can't", I stammered.
I drank more water and then some more.
"Maa, what have you made? Why so spicy?", I asked my mom.
She uttered, "Kabir loves spicy food. So, I made them extra spicy."
"What?", I looked at her surprised, "And what about your daughter?"
I ran to the kitchen, searching for something sweet.
I swallowed two spoons of sugar, and one whole packet of chocolate to ease the fire burning in my throat.
Suddenly, I felt somebody hugging me from behind. I turned to find Kabir.
"Are you okay?", he asked with concern.
I nodded.
He met our lips in a brief but meaningful kiss.
"Better?", he teasingly asked.
I grinned. "A little."
He once again claimed my lips in another passionate kiss.
"Now?", he asked, raising his eyebrow.
I nodded, shyly.
"I'll always be the sweetness in your life," he whispered, wiping away my tears.
The next day, we set off for our extremely short honeymoon.
We reached Manali in the evening, had dinner and settled in for the cold night, embracing each other.
We spent our first day going around Nehru kund, Solang valley, Kothi, Gulaba, Rahla falls, Marhi, Rani nala, and Rohtang pass.
Our love met adventure as we enjoyed trekking and skiing. I enjoyed the most at Rohtang Valley. It was full of ice.
The next day, we went to Hidimba Devi Temple, and then wandered and shopped around the local market.
The two days were filled with joy, happiness and nights with love, desire and passion.
We returned the next day.
And then, the most dreaded time came!
Time to bid goodbye to my dear husband.
This moment of parting has always been difficult for me, but this time, it felt tougher.
Perhaps, the depth of the new relationship between Kabir and me was the reason behind this.
I, with everything inside me, wanted to stop him, but I couldn't.
"Stay strong, Meera. I'll be back very soon.", he whispered, wrapping me in his arms.
"Don't cry, jaan.", he said wiping away my tears.
"Even when I'm far from home," he vowed, "my heart will always be with you, my love."
I controlled my tears for his sake, like always, but the moment his train started, I just couldn't hold myself.
A dam broke as my tears rushed down my eyes.
I rejoined my job a day after he left. His parents and family are amazing to live with. Everything is just lovely!
Kabir calls me whenever he gets an opportunity. We exchange letters as well. Every phone call, every letter feels like a lifeline, a brief moment of connection.
Yet, a certain sort of emptiness lingers around me.
Can phone calls and letters fill that void?
I cry some days and other days, I keep myself busy. But, in the end, no matter what I do, I always feel lonely.
Loneliness has become the rhythm of my life, an uninvited guest that refuses to leave.
It has been three months since he left, but it feels like an eternity. Each day feels like a battle of its own.
The loneliness and worry gnaw at me constantly, but I try to find strength in knowing that he's serving our country with honor and dedication.
It feels amazing to be Kabir's wife, proud too, but his absence kills me.
I even feel ashamed to say this, but I get jealous of other women who get to see, touch, hug, talk, kiss their husband every day.
Hell, I feel jealous of my maa and my mother-in-law.
Tears well up in the corner of my eyes every time I miss him, and I can't do anything about it.
I keep my phone always near me, just so I don't miss any of his calls.
I am in love with and married to a man who is gone more days and nights than he is home and I never know for sure if he'll ever return.
And, I keep on waiting for him.
Some days, I miss him like crazy.
A different sort of feeling takes over me.
Those nights before going to bed, I wear his hoodie or shirt, worn and fragrant with his presence, just to feel his warmth, just to feel that he is beside me.
Festivals and special occasions have long lost their lustre. They are no different than normal days.
I just miss him! I miss him so much!
And times like these, I pray to God for resilience and strength.
The strength to be able to hold onto this relationship forever.
After all, I don't want my promises to lose against loneliness.
Meera
❃
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Also, if you like my writing style, do check my other books The Dance of Destiny and Whispers of Fate.
Until next time
Love
Goodnight!