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"saath kangan le ke aana,
thode bandhan le kr aana,
haan nibhayenge hum milke,
haan thodi baatein le ke aana,
saari raatein le ke aana,
guzarenge hum milke"
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Anisha's POV
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Days passed sooner than I expected, and it was finally the day, the day I was supposed to marry Mr. Raichand.
I had been preparing for this day ever since I agreed to it, but as the moment approached, I found myself unable to escape the turbulent storm of emotions within me.
I woke up earlier than usual, and groggily made my way out of bed, feeling like a reluctant participant in my own life. As I walked toward the balcony, the sky outside was still dark and silent, much like the quiet emptiness that had settled in my life.
My gaze was fixed outside, and I couldn't help but drift back to the memory of the day Sahil and I had gotten married.
We were two young souls, filled with dreams and the fervor of youth, surrounded by the love and support of our friends and family. On that day, we had exchanged heartfelt vows, our voices tremulous with emotion, and in that sacred moment, we had bound ourselves together in a promise that we believed would last a lifetime.
But that was a different lifetime, a chapter closed.
As I looked at the sky, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future.
Since yesterday, there's been a constant, heavy presence of grief and loss in my mind. I am terribly missing Sahil.
It's as if the weight of his absence is a tangible force, always beside me, aching in my heart. His memory and the love we shared serves as a vivid reminder of the past, a past filled with cherished moments and dreams that will forever remain unfulfilled.
I remember his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the warmth of his embrace. Those memories are both a comfort and a source of anguish, for they remind me of what I've lost and what I'll never have again. The vows we exchanged, the laughter we shared, the dreams we nurtured, all etched into the fabric of my soul.
Each step toward this marriage is like walking through a field of memories, memories of Sahil and our shared dreams, and they haunted my every move.
As I stood on the balcony, I couldn't help but wonder if Sahil was looking down on me from somewhere.
What would he be thinking, seeing me standing on a pedestal, getting married to someone else? Would he understand the reasons behind this second marriage, my commitment to our daughter's happiness and security? Or would he see it as a betrayal, a breaking of the sacred vows we had once exchanged?
Time and again, I had reminded myself that this was not a betrayal to Sahil, but I couldn't help but feel it in my bones. The ache of moving forward, of allowing someone else into my life, felt like a silent, personal betrayal that only I could truly understand.
The weight of that guilt was an invisible shackle I carried with me, even as I moved towards a new chapter, a chapter that was meant to be just for my daughter's sake.
I wish Sahil would understand that this was not a choice of the heart, but a sacrifice of the heart for the well-being of our daughter.
I watched the sky painted with hues of dawn, the first light of a new day breaking the darkness. The sun was set to rise, and its warm embrace filled me with a sense of renewal.
As the world awakened around me, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.
Hope that my daughter's life will be better!
Hope that the choices I was making, no matter how painful they were, would ultimately lead to her happiness and security!
The dawn symbolized the promise of a brighter tomorrow, a tomorrow where she would have the love and stability she deserved. It was this hope that gave me the strength to take the next step in my life, as difficult as it might be.
I freshened up and made my way downstairs, where I saw Maa and Papa bustling around, preparing for the wedding. Their faces held a mix of excitement and apprehension, and I couldn't help but wonder what might be going through their minds.
The girl they had lovingly brought into their home as their daughter-in-law was now being married off to someone else.
It was a decision made out of necessity, a choice all of us had to make for the sake of the future, but it must have been a bewildering turn of events for them. I could see the worry in their eyes, the unspoken questions about our happiness and well-being.
As they continued with the wedding preparations, I knew that this day held a profound significance not just for me but for them as well.
It was a day when their understanding of family and love was being redefined, a day when they were silently supporting a path that they might not have envisioned but accepted because it was the best for the girl they had loved and accepted as their daughter and their granddaughter.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched them, and I couldn't help but cry. I tried to hide my emotions, but it was impossible to contain the flood of feelings that overwhelmed me.
Maa, with her motherly intuition, spotted the tears that I thought I had concealed. She came over to me, her eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and concern.
Without a word, she pulled me into a warm embrace, letting me cry on her shoulder. In that moment, her presence was a soothing balm to my wounded heart, and I knew that no matter the path I had chosen, I was surrounded by the love of my family.
"Isn't it hard for you to get me married?", I finally found the courage to ask, my voice trembling with emotion.
Papa's eyes, filled with warmth and understanding, met mine as he offered his reassurance. "Anisha," he said in a gentle but firm tone, "it's not easy for us. But we know, deep in our hearts, that this is a decision made for Maisha's and your happiness. Both of your future and happiness matter the most to us."
Maa chimed in, her voice filled with tenderness, "Yes, Anisha, it is hard for us, but it also makes us incredibly happy to see you taking this step for Maisha and your own happiness. And I am sure Sahil must be happy too up there, watching over all of you."
She continued with a reassuring smile, " Your past is a cherished chapter, but this is a new one. Embrace it, nurture it, and let it flourish. We are here to support you."
She then took my hands and we both settled onto the sofa. She smiled at me, caressed my hair and said, "Anisha, always remember, you're not replacing the relationship you had with Sahil. You're building a new relationship, one that promises happiness to you, Maisha, and Atharva. This marriage is a fresh start, a chance to create a beautiful life together. Remember that Sahil is a part of your story, not your whole story."
She then continued, "Embrace the love and lessons you've gathered from your life with Sahil. Let them guide you in nurturing this new relationship. Communication remains essential, perhaps even more so now. Be open with Atharva. Share your experiences, your hopes, and your fears. It's the way to build a foundation of trust."
She paused for a moment and then said, "Also, remember that Maisha will be adjusting to this new family dynamic. Be patient with her, reassure her, and make her feel loved. She's at the heart of this union."
She added with a reassuring smile, "And then, we're here to support you, just as we always have been. Lean on us when you need to."
I couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. I hugged her tight, my voice trembling with tears as I said, "I will miss you, Maa. I will miss you, Papa, and this home so much."
Maa, her own voice breaking with emotion, replied, "We will miss you both too."
She gently pulled away from the embrace and, with a tender smile, said, "Okay, don't cry now. Go upstairs and check on Maisha. She must be looking for you."
I wiped away my tears, nodded, and made my way upstairs, my heart heavy with the bittersweet emotions of leaving this home while embarking on a new journey.
I entered my room and saw Maisha still sleeping, a sense of quiet settled over her. My gaze wandered to my phone, sitting on the nightstand, and the number I had been trying to call for the past week. The familiar lack of response left a pang of disappointment within me.
With a sigh, I set the phone down and lay on the bed. Sleep slowly engulfed me.
I woke up feeling light movements on my body and faint whispers.
It was Maisha nudging me, urging me to wake up.
I hugged her, gently kissing her forehead, and said, "Good morning, my baby!"
Maisha's eyes sparkled with excitement as she replied, "Mumma, I am so happy today."
I smiled, my heart warmed by my daughter's happiness, and asked, "Achcha, why is my Maisha so happy today?"
"Because you and Superman are getting married today," Maisha replied, her innocent joy filling the room. I couldn't help but smile at her response, touched by the simplicity of her happiness.
Just then, Maa entered the room and informed, "Anisha, Atharva's dadi called. They will be here around 1."
I looked at the clock in front of me and was taken aback by the time-already 11.
Goodness, I must have slept longer than I thought!
I immediately rushed Maisha to bath and then, prepared her for the day, helping her into her lovely pink lehenga.
By the time I started preparing myself, it was already noon.
Maa had thoughtfully chosen a peach Kanjeevaram saree for me, with a pink pallu and a deep pink blouse adorned with elbow-length sleeves and a plunging, scalloped neckline, all meticulously detailed with metallic threadwork and embellishments.
I appreciated the choice, grateful that it wasn't red.
I called Maa for assistance, as I had no clue how to drape a saree properly.
Once I had the saree in place, I adorned myself with a gold neckpiece, matching earrings, and bangles. Soft curls framed my face, a little pink bindi adorned my forehead, and I opted for a natural makeup look to complete my transformation for the occasion.
Maisha suddenly burst into the room, her eyes sparkling with delight, and she exclaimed, "Wow, Mommy, you look so pretty!"
I knelt down to her level, kissed her rosy cheeks, and replied, "My baby is pretty too."
Maa came into the room, gently informing me that the Raichands had arrived.
Maisha dashed off to greet them, eager to welcome Mr. Raichand.
In one last glance at the mirror, I took in my reflection.
The saree I wore was a stark contrast to the bright red lehenga from my first wedding.
Emotions welled up within me, and I couldn't help but feel a profound sadness. This saree symbolized new beginnings, but it couldn't erase the enduring bond I had with my late husband.
Gazing at Sahil's photograph, I caressed it and whispered a silent apology, making a heartfelt promise that his place in my heart would never be forgotten, even as I embarked on this new journey.
It was as if he was watching over me, silently blessing this new path. I couldn't help but wish he were here in person, standing by my side, sparing me the challenges of doing all this.
Summoning strength, I took a deep breath, chugged down a bottle of water, and with a renewed sense of purpose, I descended the stairs.
I entered the living room and saw Mr. Raichand, dressed in a pristine white kurta, with Maisha comfortably seated on his lap, sitting along with his dadi, Ananya, and two other men.
With a sense of respect and courtesy, I folded my hands, greeting his dadi with a namaste, and then, whispered a soft hi to Ananya.
She then introduced me to one of the men as her husband and Mr. Raichand's friend, Dhruv, and I exchanged greetings with him.
The other person present was the lawyer responsible for conducting our court wedding.
I took my place beside Mr. Raichand, with Maisha between us. She was the bright spot in the room, offering comfort as we embarked on this significant step in our lives.
As the proceedings began, the focus shifted to the formalities of our court marriage. The marriage officer verified our documents meticulously, ensuring that everything was in order before proceeding.
Then came the moment where we were asked to take vows, solidifying our commitment to each other as spouses.
Mr. Raichand initiated this exchange, his voice resonating with confidence and determination, "I, Atharva Raichand, take Anisha Mehta as my lawful wife."
The lawyer turned to me, his gaze encouraging me to follow suit. I felt a mix of emotions welling up inside me, a blend of nerves and the weight of the moment. I bit my lip, clutched the fabric of my saree, and closed my eyes for a brief moment.
My whispered response carried my commitment and my acceptance of this new chapter, "I, Anisha Mehta, take Atharva Raichand as my lawful husband."
The tension in the room eased as we both signed the necessary legal documents. On one side, Sahil's parents, Maa and Papa, served as witnesses from my side, and on the other, it was Ananya and her husband, representing Mr. Raichand.
With the formalities complete, the lawyer formally announced Mr. Raichand and I legally married, and the marriage certificate was issued.
The weight of this momentous occasion settled in.
The lawyer left, and everyone gathered for a quick lunch. Sensing the need for a moment of solitude, I excused myself, carrying my lunch to my bedroom.
However, once alone, I found it difficult to take even a single bite of the food. Emotions swelled within me, and it felt as if tears were just a breath away. The weight of this life-altering day bore down on me, and I cried.
There was a swift knock at the door, and Maa entered, informing me that the pandit ji had arrived for the traditional wedding ceremony. I nodded, quickly freshened up, and made my way downstairs.
In the presence of our family, Mr. Raichand and I exchanged garlands, a traditional symbol of our acceptance of each other as partners for life.
We then took our seats in front of the holy Agni, the sacred fire that symbolized purity and the eternal bond of marriage.
The traditional rituals began, skipping the customary kanyadaan, a gesture typically performed during a Hindu wedding in which the father gives his daughter away to the groom.
Panditji called upon the groom's sister to participate in tying the gathbandhan, the sacred knot symbolizing the union of the couple.
To my surprise, Ananya approached us with Maisha. Ananya gently encouraged my little daughter, helping her understand the significance of the ritual.
With Maisha's small hands, she tied the knot, binding her mother with a man in a promise to provide her with a happy and stable family.
As we stood for the pheras, our souls entwined in the sacred rituals that symbolized the promises we made to each other.
Amidst the sacred rituals and the joy of our union, I couldn't help but find my thoughts drifting back to the man with whom I had once performed these very rituals in the past. The memory of my first wedding, the promises exchanged, and the love I had shared with Sahil lingered in the recesses of my mind, a bittersweet reminder of the profound experiences that had brought me to this moment.
After the pheras, Mr. Raichand took the mangalsutra, a symbol of marital commitment, and delicately tied it around my neck. He then applied sindoor on my hairline, marking the union and completion of the marriage ritual.
I felt a surge of emotion, realizing that our lives were now deeply intertwined.
Panditji declared us husband and wife, and the weight of the moment sunk in. It was a profound realization that my journey with Mr. Raichand together had officially begun.
With the blessings of the panditji, we were asked to seek the blessings of our elders. Mr. Raichand and I touched the feet of his dadi, followed by Maa and Papa. Their heartfelt blessings filled the room with a sense of warmth and joy, underscoring the love and support that surrounded our union.
Ananya, Mr. Raichand's sister, enveloped me and her brother in a warm hug. Dhruv, congratulated me and embraced Mr. Raichand.
Finally, we stood in front of Maisha, my little daughter. She looked at us, her eyes filled with curiosity, and then broke the silence with an innocent question to Mr. Raichand, "You are my papa now?"
Mr. Raichand's answer was simple and heartfelt, "Yes."
In response, Maisha's face lit up with the brightest smile, radiating a pure and uncontainable joy that seemed to outshine all the lights in the room.
She cheered, "Yay!"
Seeing the happiness in my daughter's eyes, I knew that every challenge I had faced and every step I had taken was worth it.
With some time to spare before we departed for the Raichand Mansion, I decided to go upstairs to my room.
However, as I crossed the threshold, a wave of emotions swept over me. This was the room where I had once entered as Sahil's wife, and now, stepping into it as someone else's wife, I felt a lump in my throat.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I reminisced about the moments spent in that room, first as Sahil's wife and then, after his passing, as his widow. The memories weighed on me, a reminder of the journey I had traversed.
I stood in front of the mirror, my gaze locked onto the sindoor and mangalsutra adorning me.
It had been two years since I had removed them, but now, they were back, serving as symbols of my marital commitment. However, they no longer bore the name of the man I love.
From today, I was no longer Sahil Mehta's wife.
I had entered a new phase of life, one where I was Atharva Raichand's wife.
The weight of this transition and the mixed emotions it stirred within me were impossible to ignore.
Ananya knocked gently and entered the room, signaling that it was finally time to leave. Maisha and my bags were gathered and taken downstairs as we prepared to make our way.
Descending the stairs, I watched as Maisha hugged her grandparents, expressing that she would miss them. Mr. Raichand consoled her, promising regular meet-ups.
My gaze lingered on the house I had called home for so long. A heavy feeling settled in my chest, and my throat tightened as I embraced Maa and shed tears. It was a bitter parting, and my emotions flowed freely.
Maa and Papa offered comforting words, reminding me to take care and blessing me with happiness as I crossed the threshold into this new chapter of my life.
In the back seat of Mr. Raichand's posh car, we settled for the journey ahead. My tears persisted, and Maisha, with her innocent and comforting voice, tried to console me. She said, "Mamma, Superman said we can come to meet Dadu and Dadi anytime."
Her trust and faith in her Superman brought a smile to my face.
As the days of running and excitement caught up with her, Maisha eventually fell asleep, leaning on Mr. Raichand's shoulder.
I had officially left Sahil's home, and I was no longer his wife. The only connection I had to him was the little girl now casually sleeping on the shoulder of another man who she would call her Papa now.
My emotional dam broke once more, and I found myself crying again.
It was then that a pristine, clean white handkerchief was offered to me. I looked at Mr. Raichand as he extended it, softly urging me, "Anisha, please don't cry anymore."
Taking the handkerchief, I wiped away my tears.
When I glanced at it, I was surprised to see the black stains from my kajal along with the other marks left by my mascara and the tracks of my tears. I offered to wash it and return it to him, but he simply took it from my hand and stated, "It's not needed," placing it gently in his pocket.
The car stopped at the grand Raichand Mansion, and it startled Maisha awake from her slumber. We stepped out of the car, and Mr. Raichand held Maisha in his arms. She gazed in awe at the splendor before her and exclaimed, "Wow, this is your home."
Mr. Raichand wore a warm smile and corrected her, "This is our home," his eyes locking with mine in a reassuring glance.
He encouraged us to proceed, and we crossed the threshold of the Raichand Mansion, greeted by the entire family.
The crowd was larger than I had expected, however I was surprised by the absence of most of them at the wedding ceremony earlier.
Dadi took charge and instructed an elderly woman to perform our aarti. As she approached, her expression clearly conveyed disappointment and disapproval.
Ananya introduced her as their chachi, and her reaction was an unsettling reminder of the challenges Maisha and I might face in integrating into this new family.
Before she could proceed with the aarti, Mr. Raichand's cold, intimidating voice cut through the tension, his tone uncharacteristically cold. He intervened, saying, "Smile, chachi. Your expression might scare my wife and our daughter."
Taken aback, the woman managed a strained smile, though it was clearly forced. She continued with the aarti and other rituals as we entered the Raichand Mansion, the formality of the welcome masking the underlying tension and unease within the family.
After some initial introductions with the family, Ananya led me to Mr. Raichand's room.
Mr. Raichand's room was a spacious and modern haven characterized by a bold black color scheme. The black walls, contemporary furniture, and silver accents created an atmosphere of sophistication and elegance. Minimalist decor and strategic lighting added to the room's stylish yet comfortable ambiance.
Ananya led me to the spacious bed, and we settled in for a conversation. As we talked, dinner was brought up to the room. I inquired about Maisha and learned that she was being looked after by Mr. Raichand. I wasn't particularly in the mood to eat, but Ananya encouraged me to have a meal, and her persistence eventually convinced me to take a few bites.
As we finished our dinner, Mr. Raichand entered the room. Ananya left, and he approached me, asking if I was comfortable. I nodded in response.
He continued, "I understand that this room may not suit your taste. You're welcome to make any changes you see fit." Again, I nodded, appreciating his consideration.
Mr. Raichand then went to the nightstand, opened a drawer, and retrieved something. He returned with a large velvet box, inside of which was a beautiful ring.
His voice held a touch of nostalgia as he explained, "This is my mother's ring. It's said to be the very ring my father proposed to her with. When I was young, I used to be fascinated by this ring. I couldn't quite put my finger on what I liked about it-maybe its shine, its design, or the way it seemed to glow in my mother's beautiful hands. I'd often trace my fingers over it. In jest, she would say that she would give it to my wife one day. Today, she isn't here, but I want to give it to you, as my wife."
I hesitated, but he continued, "Anisha, this ring was always meant for my wife. Regardless of our issues, you are the only woman I will ever call my wife. I don't ask you to wear it, at least, accept it. Please, I request you."
Moved by his words, I reached out to accept the box. He took a deep breath and continued, "My parents' marriage was filled with so much love, and this ring symbolized that love. I know our marriage won't be the same, but I hope with this ring, that our journey can have the same light and happiness my parents' marriage had."
With those heartfelt words, he placed the box in my hands, sealing a promise of our shared future.
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Another update. Hope you liked the chapter. Vote and comment if you did.
50 votes required on this chapter for the next chapter, that is apparently the biggest chapter of this story to be updated. It's gonna be Atharva's pov, giving answers to all the mystery that surrounds him.
Don't forget to check out my Instagram account for more insights on the story. My ID is shewhowriteslove.
Also, wishing you all a very happy Dussehra. May the triumph of good over evil bring happiness to you and your home!
See you in the next chapter.