Chapter - 3
The moment the words left my grandmother's lips—"Aarav, I think you should get married now"—my fork paused mid-air. The tension in the dining room spiked instantly. I let the fork fall onto the plate with a clatter and slowly leaned back in my chair, fixing her with a cold stare.
"I'm done." The words left my mouth like a sharp command, final and irrefutable.
I stood up, pushing my chair back with a screech that echoed off the walls. She called my name—"Aarav"—in that voice that usually demanded respect, but I wasn't in the mood for this conversation. Not now. Not ever.
"Dadi, I'm not interested in this topic," I said flatly, my tone bordering on dangerous. Without another glance, I left the table. Her words followed me, but I didn't stop. Let her believe she had a say in this; we both knew better.(Dadi - Grandmother)
At the office, I tried to push the conversation out of my mind.
My PA, Rohan, hurried in with a cup of black coffee, the scent offering a brief distraction.
"Here's the schedule for today, sir," he said, handing me the document with shaky hands.
He knew better than to approach me when I was in a foul mood, but he had no choice.
"Send me the Gupta file," I ordered, not bothering to look up as I clicked through my emails.
He nodded and hurried out, sensing the pressure. Moments later, he returned with the file. I snatched it from his hand and flipped it open, my eyes scanning the pages. Errors. So many errors. I felt the irritation boiling up.
"Rohan!" My voice sliced through the air, sharp enough to make him flinch.
"Y-Yes, sir?" he stammered, stepping back into the office.
I held up the file, my eyes burning into him. "I needed this file perfect by this morning. Why isn't it done?"
"Sir, it was Miss Sharma's task," he stammered, shifting nervously.
"Call her. Now," I snapped. My patience was hanging by a thread.
Miss Sharma arrived, her sweet tone grating on my nerves. "Yes, sir, you called?"
"If you had put even half as much effort into your work as you do into sounding sweet, this file wouldn't be such a disaster," I said coldly, not bothering to mask the contempt in my voice. "You're fired."
Her eyes widened in shock, and she tried to speak, her voice trembling. "Sir, please... I—"
"I don't give second chances," I cut her off. "There's no room for mistakes in Rathore Industries." Her lips quivered, but she knew better than to argue. I could feel the room shrink around her as the weight of my words crushed any hope she had left.
I turned to Rohan, my gaze like a blade slicing through his confidence. "One hour. If this file isn't perfect by then, you're next."
Rohan's face drained of color, and he nodded frantically before scurrying out of the office. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus, but the day was already slipping into chaos.
Then, without knocking—because of course he wouldn't knock—Raghav Chauhan, the CEO of Chauhan Industries and my childhood friend, waltzed into my office like he owned the place.
"You again," I muttered, glaring at him. "Don't you have anything better to do? You're here more often than I am. Who made you the CEO?"
Raghav smirked, unfazed by my hostility. "Why are you barking like a dog so early in the morning?" he shot back, casually sitting down in the chair across from me. His audacity never ceased to annoy me.
"Didn't anyone teach you basic manners?" I growled, ignoring the way he seemed to be amused by my irritation. "What do you want?"
"Why's your mood off already? What happened?" he asked, leaning back like he had all the time in the world.
"Grandma brought up marriage again today," I snapped, the memory of her insistence pushing me to the edge.
"And what's wrong with that?" Raghav raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the fact that I was in a bad mood.
I shot him a look that should have been enough to shut him up, but Raghav wasn't smart enough to quit while he was ahead.
"What about the girl with the pendant?" he pressed, that insufferable smirk still on his face.
"I told you a thousand times already, I don't know anything about her!" I spat back. "She was just some 18- or 19-year-old girl."
"And now she's probably what... 20? 21? Still seems like an option," he shrugged.
I stared at him, incredulous. "Are you insane? I have no interest in her, or in marriage, for that matter. I told you, drop it."
He finally backed off, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Relax. Just treat me to coffee, then."
I exhaled sharply, still irritated but unwilling to waste any more energy on him. "You come to my office just to drink coffee?"
"What can I say? The coffee here's good," he grinned, as if that was reason enough.
I rolled my eyes, signaling to Rohan. "Fine. Coffee for both of us," I ordered, still fuming inside but resigned to the inevitable.
Siya woke up early, her heart heavy with the weight of the day.
As the sun peeked through her window, she quickly took a bath, the cool water momentarily washing away her sadness.
She dressed in a light blue and white printed suit, the colors reflecting her inner hope, though today felt clouded by the shadow of loss.
Today marked her parents' anniversary, a day that passed unnoticed in her uncle and aunt's home, where rituals and memories were mere echoes of a life once filled with love.
It hurt her to think that her Tauji didn't even remember this day, the death anniversary of his younger brother and sister-in-law.
Yet, she kept these thoughts to herself, well aware that voicing them would only stir anger and dismissiveness.
After all, she had learned that silence often kept the peace in this house.
With a resigned heart, she made her way to the kitchen, determined to keep the household running smoothly, despite her own grief.
After quickly preparing tea in the kitchen, she checked on her uncle and aunt's room, but there was no response.
With a sigh, she set to work making breakfast, arranging the plates meticulously on the table.
She brewed a cup of coffee for her cousin, Natasha, and brought it to her room, hoping for a small moment of connection, but Natasha barely acknowledged her presence.
When everyone finally gathered for breakfast, Siya's heart sank a little more. "I'm going to the temple today, Aunt," she said softly, but her words were met with silence. No one bothered to ask if she had eaten or if she was alright.
With a heavy heart and an empty stomach, Siya left for the temple.
She decided to pray first, thinking she would eat afterward.
Once inside the sacred space, she approached Lord Shiva's idol and closed her eyes, her thoughts filled with memories of her parents.
"I miss you so much, Mom and Dad," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
After completing her prayer, she received blessings from the priest, who knew her well.
"Stay happy, child. Soon, your new life is about to begin," he said, but his words barely registered in her mind. She felt lost in her sorrow, her thoughts lingering on the memories of happier times.
Meanwhile, an elderly woman, around 85 years old, approached the temple.
Her eyes caught sight of a girl serving food to others outside.
The woman couldn't see the girl's face, but something about her presence brought an unexpected smile to her lips.
This woman was none other than Sumitra Singh Rathore, Aarav's grandmother, and the girl was the beloved Siya, unknowingly capturing the heart of someone destined to play a significant role in her life.
As Sumitra Ji entered the temple, she prayed, her heart filled with a longing for her grandson to find someone who could guide him toward a richer understanding of life.
"O God," she implored, "if someone like that girl comes into my grandson's life, maybe he will understand what real life is and its true meaning.
A kingdom needs both a king and a queen—the king to protect his people and the queen to provide them with love and support.
But who will make my grandson understand this? "
She pondered, Why someone like her? Why not her? The thought of this girl becoming her granddaughter-in-law blossomed in her mind. The kingdom needed a queen like her, and so did her grandson.
Stepping outside to see the girl, Sumitra Ji found the spot empty; Siya had already departed. Pondering how to find her, the priest approached and asked, "Rajmata, do you need something?"
"Yes, the girl who was serving food here. Do you know her?" Sumitra Ji inquired, her curiosity piqued.
The priest smiled warmly. "That girl always comes here, and whenever she does, she brings peace and calmness with her, like a fragrant breeze that makes everything better."
"She's perfect for my elder grandson," Sumitra Ji said, her heart swelling with hope.
"Her pairing is like Shiv and Parvati," the priest replied. "Just as Shiv finds peace in Parvati's love, our king can find solace in that girl."
Intrigued, Sumitra Ji pressed on. "Who is that girl?
The priest began to answer, "She is Siya, the daughter of—" but just as he spoke, the temple bells rang loudly, drowning out the sound of the girl's name.
Sumitra Ji frowned, unable to catch the name. "What did you say?" she asked.
The priest, unaware that she hadn't heard the name, continued, "She lives in House No. K171 in the nearby Sundar Vihar."
With a grateful smile, Sumitra Ji thanked him before leaving the temple, her heart filled with purpose.