Karta nahi kyun tu mujhpe yaqeen
Kyun mere dil ki tu sunta nahi
Hmm...
Tere bagair kitna tanha sa hoon
Aalam yeh dil ka tu samjhe kabhi
Hai pataa yeh tujhe
Na jee sakunga bin tere
Phir bhi kyun mujhse judaa... Tu...
✦Sankaar✦
I lay there, lost in thought with my eyes shut tight. I didn't even notice when she finished her bath and came back. She approached me cautiously, like I was some dangerous animal. It annoyed me. Did she really think I'd hurt her? Was I just a scary figure to her?
Watching her tip-toe around me made me realize something. Maybe I hadn't shown her the softer side of me enough. Maybe I needed to change too. But she had to meet me halfway. We couldn't keep living like this, always tense around each other.
I decided then and there that things had to change. I'd work on controlling my temper, but she needed to see me for who I really was, not just the angry guy.I will have to work upon this habit of hers as well. I will have to change this woman completely, making her Vaidehi Suryavanshi from the scared Vaidehi Chauhan.
I kept my smile pressed tight, pretending to be lost in slumber as she playfully counted her fingers in front of my face. It was endearing, her innocent curiosity. She repeated the gesture several times, seemingly convinced of my deep sleep.
She looked cute doing so.
Then, unexpectedly, she took my hand in hers. A jolt of electricity shot through me at the touch, and I couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.
What black magic are you doing wifey?
She cleaned my wound with care, and then expertly applied the bandage. I grudgingly admitted to myself that this bandage wasn't so bad.
Just as she finished, there was a knock on the door, and Ma called out to her. I could sense her hesitation as she made her way back to me. I am really loving this act.
"Mr. Suryavanshi," She called me out in her little sparrow tone. Had I not been focusing on her I wouldn't have heard it.
After attempting to wake me several times, she seemed to give up.
"Sanskaar!" She leaned in closer, shouting my name directly into my ear, filling my senses with the scent of roses and lavender. I grabbed a nearby cushion and pretended to cover my face with it.
"Sanskaar Singh Suryavanshi!" She shook my arm, but I just grumbled and continued with my charade.
"Kumbhakaran!" With a swift motion, she yanked the cushion from my grip and tossed it aside, then proceeded to shake me vigorously while shouting.
Easy there, woman. You'll make me deaf.
And just when I thought she had given up, she surprised me by pouring water over me.
"Argh!" I grumbled, instinctively pulling her down with me. But it backfired, and we both ended up tumbling onto the small sofa, with me inadvertently landing on top of her.
I felt a sudden jolt as I realized her hand was gripping my shoulder, a drop of water from my lips landing on hers. Our eyes locked for a moment, a strange intimacy enveloping us. But then she pushed me away, breaking free from the closeness, and marched straight to the bathroom.
After an exhausting negotiation to convince her to eat, I finally slid the plate toward her.
"You can eat first; I will eat after you. Now, okay?" I suggested.
She looked at me for a moment, her expression darkening as she narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you suddenly being so considerate? Did you forget your own rule about not interfering in my life?" she asked, folding her arms defiantly. I clenched my jaw in frustration.
"So, now the fact that I'm offering you food is somehow unacceptable to you?"
"It's not just about the food, Sanskaar. It's about your controlling nature. Am I your pet that you're offering food to?"
"Am I someone living at your mercy, or are you trying to play the hero with these sudden acts of kindness?" she challenged, her voice tinged with frustration. "One moment you're shouting at me, and the next you're acting like the most caring person in the world."
I used the word offering because it still sounds better than giving food. And here this woman is make a hill out of mole.
"Now, you thinks I'm being controlling? Woah!"
"Woah, it is!" Her words sliced through the air like a blade, each accusation laced with bitterness and anger. "What else will you call it but controlling? You married me against my will, you've dictated every aspect of my life since our first night together. You even compared me from an animal and today you forced me to go back with you. What more evidence do you need to see that you are controlling?"
The weight of her accusations hung heavy in the air, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, her eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. I stood there, stunned into silence, her words echoing in my mind like a relentless drumbeat. Had I truly been blind to the extent of my actions?
No! Everything I've done has been for her well-being, yet she's painting me as the villain. Why did I have to confront her father? I could have avoided it altogether. But no, I did it because she's my wife. She mis mine to protect.
"Do you really think you're in any position to accuse me of forcing you back after the stunt you pulled today? You were supposed to be at your parent's home, and where did I find you? At the bus stop!" I stepped closer to her, lowering myself to her eye level, speaking directly into her face as she flinched back.
If she wants to argue, then so be it.
"Why does it matter to you where I am? It's not like I'm running away from you; I would have returned."
Maybe I'm always wrong at figuring out women. They're all the same. Our efforts never matter to them. And yet, we men are fools to fall in love. I made this mistake once, but never again.
"It matters to me because you carried my name along with you and my family's reputation. I can't let you tarnish that. What would people have thought if they found you roaming at the bus stop? That we don't care about you?" I shot back.
It's like even my own words were piercing me. Am I the same Sanskaar?
"Oh! So all this was for reputation, Mr. Suryavanshi?" Her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, belied the defiance in her tone. "If you have this much of a problem, then I should get your reputation removed from my name. I am done with handling reputation; you better be handling it." In that dimly lit room, her face seemed to radiate with an ethereal glow, a haunting reminder of the emotions we both struggled to contain.
She turned to leave, but before she could take another step, I reached out, seizing her wrist and pulling her back to me. Our bodies collided in an intimate tangle, her chest pressed against mine, her wrist still in my grasp. "Don't you dare," I whispered leaning close to her, my voice laced with a desperation I couldn't hide.
I couldn't let her slip away, not now. Our marriage wasn't a choice we made willingly, but a circumstance thrust upon us by fate. And in that moment, I knew she could never escape the tangled web that bound us together.
"Why did you agree to marry me if you despise me so?" I growled, the question hanging heavy in the air between us. "Mara nhi ja rha tha tumse shaadi ke liye"
(I wasn't dying to marry you)
With a tear streaking down her cheek, she withdrew from my hold, her smile bittersweet. "Main to pehle bhi mar rhi thi aur abhi bhi mar rhi hu."she confessed before rushing away, sobbing, leaving me standing there, frozen in the suffocating silence of the room.
(I've been dying all along, and I continue to die now,)
Destroyed.
Broken.
Shattered.
Everything came crashing down around me, the weight of our shared pain crushing me beneath its relentless onslaught. With a heavy heart, I turned away, seeking solace amidst the soothing embrace of the rain-soaked garden below.
The night was blacker than the depths of my own despair, each raindrop a heavy burden echoing the weight upon my heart.
I surrendered to the chilling embrace of the earth, lying upon the bare grass as if seeking refuge from the storm brewing within. The coldness seeped into my bones, extinguishing the flames of anger and confusion that had consumed me.
Gazing up at the lifeless expanse of the sky, I found a strange serenity in the midst of the chaos. The rhythmic patter of raindrops against my skin became a lullaby, soothing the restless thoughts that plagued my mind.
For a moment, I diverted my gaze from the sky to the balcony of our room. The door was ajar, and my eyes locked onto a familiar figure silhouetted against the dim light. It was her. But before I could see her properly, she disappeared inside, and the door closed with a soft click.
I remained sprawled on the ground, soaked to the bone, the water enveloping me like a second skin. My shirt clung to my body, and my hair hung in disarray around my face.
Time seemed to blur, the darkness of the night merging with the faint light of dawn. All the doors of our house were shut tight, sealing me off from the world outside. The atmosphere was caught between the fading darkness and the emerging light.
Slowly, I pushed myself up from the ground, feeling the weight of the water droplets falling down my body. The rain had ceased its weeping, leaving behind a stillness that echoed the emptiness in my heart.
My stomach grumbled loudly, a harsh reminder that I hadn't eaten dinner. It was a rarity for me to go hungry, especially when the food was as delicious as hers.
Quietly, I made my way inside, careful to wipe my feet on the doormat before stepping over the threshold. The house was silent, everyone lost in the depths of sleep. Turning towards the kitchen, I hoped to find something to satisfy my hunger.
After washing my hands, I opened the fridge, finding a dish she had prepared earlier that day still sitting inside. With a smirk, I couldn't help but think to myself that I could cook better than her.
Liar.
But why bother with such distinctions when the food was readily available? Chuckling to myself, I closed the fridge with a nudge of my leg and arranged my plate, pulling out a chair to sit down.
The food was still delicious, and I savored each bite, eating until my hunger was satiated. Yet, it still couldn't compare to the sweetness of my own halwa, the one I made with just a touch more sugar. I swear, only one spoon sugar was extra or else it was okay.
But still it was better than this cottage cheese that she made. After all, there's something special about food made by me.
Accept it, she made better food than you
Narcissist
My own conscience is mocking me?
As I finished washing my hands and prepared to leave the kitchen, the sound of footsteps echoed through the silent house. My siblings were always a handful, and their timing couldn't have been worse.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment at the thought of being caught in the act. Sanskaar Singh Suryavanshi, eating food in his own home, made by his own wife like a thief? The shame of it all was almost palpable.
"Thief, thief.." Came the shouting voice, it was Ahaan. Before he could continue and turn me into a real thief, I quickly silenced him by covering his mouth with my hand.
"Bhai, aap chori bhi karte ho?"
(Bhai, you steal as well?)
I slapped my forehead, gritting my teeth. This boy!
"Bhagwan ke liye mujhe chod do, meri to pocket bhi phati hui hai. Aur iss 500 rupayee ki t-shirt ka kya hi karoge? ye to dusting mein bhi kaam nhi aayegi. Sacchi, god promise" he pleaded, pinching the base of his neck nervously.
(Please, spare me. My pocket already has a hole in it. And what would you do with this five hundred rupees t- shirt? It wouldn't even work as a rag. Seriously, I swear to God,)
"V-vaise chaku udhar hai-" he stammered, pointing behind me.
(W-well, there's a knife over there,)
"What?" I exclaimed.
"Chaku. A-Aap aise daraoge to koi convince nhi hoga ki aap chor ho, c-chaku to rakh lo" he suggested nervously.
(A knife. I-I mean, if you're going to scare someone into thinking you're a thief, you should at least have a knife)
I stepped closer to him, my frustration boiling over. "Stop this nonsense and leave!"
He nodded quickly and turned on his heels, but not before throwing one last proposition over his shoulder. "Agar aapko kuch mile to hum 50-50 kar lenge. Please?"
(If you find anything, we can split it 50-50. Please?)
I rolled my eyes in exasperation as he continued to negotiate. "Fine, fine, 70-30?"
"Are you leaving or not?" I approached him, and he scurried away.
"I'll tell Bhabhi, just you wait," he threatened as he disappeared into the darkness. "Selfish!" He muttered before going into his room.
As I finished washing the plates and returned everything to its proper place, I flicked off the lights and turned to leave. But just as I took a step forward, a voice called out to me from the darkness.
"Mr Thief Singh Suryavanshi!"
Did he really told her that I was stealing here?
(A/N - Khauf hai devi ji ka)
Darta jahaan humse, hum tose darte
Ee sab jaane mori Raniya haaye
Maska lagaao naa chhodo ji chhodo
Samjhti hai tori thaniya
Iss ada pe toh hum kurbaan gaye jee
Tohri naa naa mein haami hai, jaan gaye jee
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How was the chapter, darlings?
Don't you think the Suryavanshi brothers are just adorable?
Vaise, Vaidehi is an overthinker is liye ladai ho gyi but koi nhi, Sanskaar cutie hai na vo sambhal lega.
Do vote and comment. I swear tum log nhi karte ho apart from some cuties. XOXO
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