Siya POV:
As we arrived at Abhiram's house, no longer just a house, it felt more like a palace,he exterior unfolded like a grand tapestry of architectural elegance. Majestic pillars framed the entrance, adorned with intricate carvings that spoke of a rich heritage. The sprawling gardens, meticulously landscaped, added a touch of natural beauty to the regal structure.
The facade of the palace boasted large windows adorned with ornate designs, allowing a glimpse of the opulence that awaited within. The architecture blended traditional aesthetics with modern luxuries, creating a harmonious symphony of the past and present.
"It's so beautiful from the outside; I wonder how it looks from the inside," I thought, captivated by the intricate details of the palace-like structure.
As Abhiram left without waiting for me, a wave of sadness washed over. I stepped out of the car, feeling a bit lost, but to my surprise, all the youngsters came forward to pick me up.
"Bhabhi, maa, aap chinta mat karo, bhai aesa hi hai. Aao, hum aap ko lekar chalte hai (Sister-in-law, don't worry. That's just how brother is. Come, we'll take you)," Krish reassured with a warm smile.
As I reached the entrance, there was Abhiram, patiently waiting for me. Maa, with a smile that radiated warmth, performed the aarti, symbolizing the blessing and protection of the divine for our new journey together.
Maa, with a tender smile, began to explain the significance of the rituals that awaited us. She pointed towards the vessel filled with grains, emphasizing that it symbolized abundance and the heartfelt wish for a prosperous and fertile life in our new home. The grains, scattered strategically, echoed the promise of growth and prosperity within the walls of our shared space.
Next, Maa drew my attention to the thali filled with vermillion, an integral part of the ritual. Maa pointed to the footprints drawn on the floor. These footprints, imprinted with vermillion, represented the sacred path we were embarking upon. Each step taken on this adorned path was symbolic of the auspicious beginning of our life together, a journey guided by traditions and the blessings of our elders.
On a plate, there were rings hidden in milk, flowers, and haldi. The youngsters split into teams, with some supporting me as the bride and the elders on Abhiram's side. Maa explained that finding the ring would give an upper hand in marriage. There were three rounds, and in the first, Abhiram won, making the youngsters say, "Bhabhi, aapko jeetna hai, please (Sister-in-law, you have to win, please)." In the second round, I won, making the youngsters happy. The third round was also won by me. "Bhaiya, ab toh aapko bhabhi ke isharo par chalna hoga (Brother, now you have to follow sister-in-law's orders)," Krish teased. Abhiram asked if he could go to the room after all the rituals, and Dadaji nodded. Abhiram went to his room.
Maa guided me to Abhiram's room, and as I stepped inside, my jaw dropped in amazement. The room was incredible, surpassing my expectations. What caught my eye the most was the balcony – a charming space that seemed to invite the outside world in.
Abhiram's room was more spacious than my entire house, leaving me in awe of the grandeur. The tasteful decor, the soft hues, and the attention to detail reflected a blend of elegance and comfort. It was a room that not only spoke of luxury but also felt like a haven, a space where every corner exuded warmth and style.
As I explored the room, the balcony became my favorite spot. The view it offered was enchanting, and the thought of spending moments there filled me with joy. Abhiram's room, with its size and grace, felt like a world of its own, a perfect setting for the beginning of our shared life.
Then, my eyes met with Abhiram's. After a prolonged silence, Abhiram finally spoke, "Woh aapka suitcase maine andar walk-in closet mein rakwa diya hai. Aur yeh bathroom hai (I've placed your suitcase inside the walk-in closet. And this is the bathroom)," he pointed towards the door on the left side, "Aap yahaan change kar sakti hain (You can change here)," he said. As I proceeded to change when suddenly I heard a knock on the door.
Abhiram went to open the door, and I followed him. "What happened?" Abhiram asked, and when I looked, I saw Krish crying. Concerned, I inquired, "What happened, Krish? Why are you crying?"
"Bhabhi maa, woh woh Aadhya (Sister-in-law, um, um, actually Aadhya)," Krish struggled to speak. Worried, I asked, "What happened to Aadhya, Krish?" He hugged me and said, "Bhabhi maa, Bhabhi maa, Aadhya ko kuch hua hai. Aap please neeche chalo nah (Sister-in-law, something has happened to Aadhya. Please come downstairs)," he pleaded, and we rushed downstairs.
As we hurried downstairs, I saw Aadhya struggling to breathe, tears streaming down her eyes. Recognizing the signs all too well, as I had experienced it myself, I understood she was having a panic attack. Without hesitation, I rushed upstairs to retrieve the medicine prescribed by the doctor for me.
I rushed downstairs again and found Abhiram yelling, "Where is the doctor? Why is he not here yet?" His frustration was evident. Vihaan stepped in, saying, "Bhai, the doctor is out of town. He has arranged another one, but it will take some time for them to arrive. It's late at night."
Abhiram, agitated, exclaimed, "What the hell! Let's go. We are taking her to the hospital." I intervened, "Enough, Abhiram. Yelling won't solve the problem. At least, see her condition before getting angry."
"And please aap sab dur ho jaiye, don't crowd near her (And please, all of you stay away, don't crowd near her)," I said, urging everyone to maintain some distance. I approached Aadhya and spoke gently, "Aadhya, bacha, listen to me. Take a deep breath, like that. Once again, take a deep breath. Listen, Aadhya, you don't have to panic. The whole family is with you; they will support you. Okay? We are there for you, bacha. You are not alone, okay? Yeah, like that, take a deep breath."
"Okay, now take that medicine. Good. Now, close your eyes and remember, we are here with you, okay?" I reassured her, and after a series of soothing words, she slowly closed her eyes. Eventually, with the calming words and support, she fell asleep.
After about 15 minutes, the doctor arrived, apologizing for the delay. Abhiram, still fuming with anger, urged the doctor to check Aadhya. "Please check her," I requested.
After an inquiry into what happened and a thorough examination, the doctor explained, "She had a panic attack. It was triggered by something." Krish anxiously asked, "Is she okay now?"
The doctor reassured, "Yes, she is perfectly fine. But how did you know how to calm her and which medicine to give?" Everyone's gaze turned towards me. "Actually, I sometimes get panic attacks, so I know how to make someone calm during this situation. And I have the medicine which the doctor prescribed for me," I explained to the doctor.
The doctor nodded, expressing understanding. "She is fine now, but please don't leave her alone, and try to avoid the situations that trigger her," the doctor advised before leaving.
After about 15 minutes, the doctor arrived, saying, "I am sorry, sir, mujhe late ho gayi (I am sorry, sir, I got late)." Abhiram, fuming with anger, I interrupted between and urged the doctor to check her. "Doctor, please check her," I said.
After the doctor left, a collective sigh of relief swept through the room. Abhiram's anger subsided, replaced by a sense of concern for Aadhya.
Aadhya stirred after about 15 minutes, her awakening accompanied by faint mumbling and beads of sweat forming on her hands. As she gradually became more conscious, the room's hushed atmosphere reflected a collective concern. Her mumbled words were barely audible, revealing the lingering effects of the panic attack.
Sensing her distress, I gently approached, offering a reassuring touch. "Aadhya, you're safe now. Take your time," I whispered, hoping to provide comfort amid the lingering unease. The beads of sweat on her hands glistened in the subdued light, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil she had endured.
Aadhya's eyes fluttered open, and a plea escaped her lips, "Bhabhi, please, I don't want this. Bhabhi, please," her voice carrying a mix of distress and desperation. The vulnerability in her words echoed the internal struggle she was experiencing, and her plea tugged at the heartstrings of everyone in the room.
I sat beside her, offering a gentle touch, "Aadhya, you're safe now. You don't have to go through this alone. We are here for you," I reassured, choosing words aimed at providing comfort and understanding.
"Maa, can we go out right now? I know a place where Aadhya will feel calm," I suggested. Abhiram, concerned about the time, responded, "What are you saying? Did you see the time?"
"Abhiram, I know the time, and I know what I am doing. If we want Aadhu to feel better, that's the only thing we need to do. Don't worry; the place is safe, and I can go with the driver. But I want to be alone with Aadhu" I explained. After some contemplation and further explanation, everyone agreed.
I hurriedly went to change, feeling the urgency to provide Aadhya with the solace she needed, unable to bear the weight of the heavy lehenga any longer.
I, along with Aadhya, headed to my favorite place, a hidden gem known only to a few – a sanctuary I often visited with my mumma. The journey led us to a serene spot enveloped by lush greenery, with trees standing tall like silent guardians and a gentle river meandering through the landscape.
As we stepped into this secluded haven, the air carried the scent of nature, and the symphony of rustling leaves and the soft murmur of the river created a harmonious melody. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a dappled pattern on the ground, adding to the enchantment of the place.
Colorful flowers adorned the surroundings, their vibrant hues creating a picturesque tapestry. Aadhya, surrounded by the natural beauty, seemed to find solace in the tranquility of the space. The small river added a soothing soundtrack to the atmosphere, contributing to the peaceful ambiance.
We found a comfortable spot, where the grass felt soft beneath us, and the canopy of trees provided a natural shelter. As we sat there, enveloped by the serenity of the hidden paradise, the worries of the world seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of calm and connection with nature. This secret haven, known only to a few, became a refuge for Aadhya, a place where the soothing embrace of nature could work its magic.
"Aadhu, you know the first time I met you, I saw pain in your eyes. I sensed vulnerability behind your cold and brat behavior. And I seem to know the reason; it's related to your mom, right? I know how the world feels without a mom. But, you know, Aadhu, you are lucky. Your family loves you, cares for you. They try their best so that you don't feel lonely," I shared with Aadhya.
"How can you feel what I feel? In fact, nobody knows what I am going through, and nobody cares—not even my mom, who left me," Aadhya expressed, her words carrying the weight of the loneliness and pain she had been harboring.
"Aadhu, I know the pain you are going through. My mumma also left me when I was 5, and Aadhu, your family cares about you. They just don't know how to make you feel better. They are trying their best, Aadhu," I shared, offering a glimpse into my own experience of loss and an understanding of the complexities that accompany it.
"But Aisha aunty," Aadhya asked.
"Step-mom, Aadu, not my real mom. I'm only sharing it with you. Please don't tell anyone," I said, and she nodded in understanding.
"Aadhu, you know, I come here every time I want to talk to Mumma. It's my and Mumma's favorite place. I pour my heart out, scream to let out the frustration and all the things I kept buried behind my smile. And you can also do that, Aaru. Scream your heart out, talk to your mom, complain to her—whatever you want. You can come here when you wish to talk to your mom. Trust me, you will feel better, and it helps lighten the load you're carrying," I suggested, offering Aadhya a space for solace and release.
Aadhya, overcome with emotion, began to scream and talk to her mom in a torrent of feelings. "Mom, why did you leave me? Why didn't you think about me before leaving? Why didn't you consider my feelings huh! who I would share my happy and painful memories with, who I would share my secrets with? Why did you leave me, Mom?" she sobbed uncontrollably, pouring out the myriad of thoughts and emotions that had been bottled up for years.
I held her in a comforting embrace, allowing her to release the heavy load she had carried for so long. The minutes passed in shared silence and tears, our hug providing a sanctuary for the pain she had held onto. In those moments, the cathartic release brought a sense of relief, and as her cries subsided, we continued to hold each other, knowing that healing is a gradual process, and she wasn't alone in this journey.
Aadhya, having poured out her emotions, lay down with her head on my lap. I gently caressed her hair, offering a comforting touch. "Aadhu, remember that I am always here for you. You can share anything with me. I won't judge, nor will I try to give solutions. I'll just listen you because I know you are capable of solving your problems yourself. You just need someone to share your happy and sad moments with."
"When you feel low, when you feel happy, you can come to me, or you can call, no matter what the time is. It doesn't matter whether it's day or night—I will always be there for you when you need me. Just call me. I am one call away. If you want help, you can ask me whenever you want. You are not alone, Aadhu. Your family and I are always with you," I reassured, emphasizing the unwavering support she had from those who cared about her.
"Thank you so much, Bhabhi Maa, for helping me. And sorry for my rude behavior. From today onwards, I give you the same place in my heart that I give to Mom. I'll share everything with you, and you can also scold and correct me like my mom did when I make mistakes. You are my elder sister, and an elder sister is also the second mom. I love you, Bhabhi Maa. Thank you for coming into our life," Aadhya expressed, her words a heartfelt acknowledgment of the bond that had strengthened during the vulnerable moments they shared.
Aadhya's words carried a profound sincerity, marking a significant turning point in our relationship. As she opened her heart, I could feel the weight of her emotions lifting, replaced by a newfound connection.
I gently cupped her face, meeting her eyes with warmth and understanding. "Aadhya, you don't need to thank me. We're family, and being here for each other is what family does. I'm grateful for the trust you're placing in me, and I promise to always be there for you, just like an elder sister should. Our bond is special, and I'm here to support you through thick and thin," I replied, embracing her in a sisterly hug.
"Aadhu, I understand there might be more you're keeping to yourself. I won't push you to share if you're not ready. But you can trust me me Aadhu and and be safe, okay? Let's come up with a code – something you can say when you need help or are in danger, and you can't express it directly. What code would you like to use?" I suggested, providing a simple and discreet way for Aadhya to communicate when needed.
Aadhya thought for a moment, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and hesitation. After a brief pause, she said, "Bhabhi Maa, let's use the phrase 'Blue Sky.' If I say that, you'll know I need your help or that something is wrong."
I nodded in agreement, acknowledging the chosen code. "Blue Sky it is, Aadhu. Whenever you say that, I'll understand, and I'll be there for you. Our connection goes beyond words, and I want you to feel safe reaching out," I assured her, reinforcing the commitment to support her through any challenges she might face.
Aadhya, with a faint smile, expressed gratitude. "Thank you, Bhabhi Maa. It means a lot." Her words carried a blend of relief and appreciation, and in that moment, it was evident that our connection had deepened into a bond founded on trust and the shared understanding of each other's struggles.
The night continued its gentle embrace, and as we sat in the peaceful surroundings, a subtle transformation took place. Aadhya, having unburdened some of her emotions, appeared more at ease. The shared vulnerability had created a bridge between us, fostering a sense of unity and strength within our small family.
We lingered in the quietude, absorbing the tranquility of the night. A sense of hope lingered in the air, a hope that the understanding we had forged would serve as a foundation for Aadhya's healing journey.
As I eventually decided to return home, the journey back was accompanied by a serene calmness. I gently suggested, "Let's return home, Aadhu. Everyone must be worried about us."
As we made our way back home, a noticeable sense of concern greeted us upon our arrival. Every member of the family was awake, and their inquiries poured in, "Is everything alright, Aaru? Do you feel better? Do you want anything?"
Aadhya and I exchanged smiles at the genuine care surrounding us. Aadhya reassured everyone, "I am fine, see? Don't worry. Nothing will happen to me as long as Bhabhi Maa is with me. Thanks to Bhabhi Maa, I am feeling very light," she said, her gratitude evident in her smile.
Everyone is relieved to see Aadhya okay, and after a while, everyone went to their rooms to sleep. When I entered the room, I changed into my Mickey Mouse nightwear, a cute outfit I got when I bought the engagement ring. Coming out, I noticed Abhiram already sitting on the bed with a laptop. As soon as he saw me, he expressed his gratitude, saying, "Thank you for helping my sister."
I smiled and nodded, "Of course, Abhiram. Aadhya is like a sister to me now, and family helps each other." He returned a grateful smile. "Hmm, you can take the bed, and I'll sleep on the couch," Abhiram suggested, offering a generous gesture.
I appreciated his consideration but insisted, "No worries, Abhiram. I'm comfortable on the couch. You need a good night's rest too." "No, I'm not allowing you to sleep on the couch," Abhiram asserted, showing his insistence.
I appreciated the concern but reassured him, "It's really okay, Abhiram. I don't mind the couch. After some back and forth, Abhiram sighed, conceding the debate, andI won the small debate, ultimately deciding to sleep on the couch. I couldn't help but appreciate the comfort of the couch compared to the floor where I used to sleep back at my own house.
With a sense of contentment, I closed my eyes, feeling grateful for the warmth and hospitality of Abhiram's family. Despite the initial challenges and adjustments, I found solace in the bonds that were forming, weaving me into the fabric of their lives.
As sleep gently embraced me, I drifted into dreams, the events of the day melting away into a peaceful slumber. In that moment, surrounded by the quiet of the night and the comfort of the couch, I felt a profound sense of belonging, knowing that I was exactly where I was meant to be.