17 ~ Jealous Kartik
The moment I opened my eyes, a sharp throb exploded inside my head.
"Ughh."
I instinctively pressed my fingers against my temples, squeezing my eyes shut again as the pounding only intensified. My mouth felt unbearably dry, and every muscle in my body ached as though I'd spent the entire night carrying a mountain on my shoulders.
"What happened..."
The memories refused to come all at once.
Only scattered fragments.
A courtyard filled with people.
Haldi celebration.
Rivan...
My jaw clenched unconsciously.
I remembered him sitting beside Chahat holding her hand smiling at her.
Something dark twisted inside my chest.
"Kartik..."
Dadi's gentle voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I slowly opened my eyes and found her sitting beside the bed, worry etched across every line of her face. In her hands was a glass of fresh lemonade.
"Ye peelo."
(Drink this.)
I pushed myself into a sitting position with some difficulty before accepting the glass.
The cold lemonade eased the dryness in my throat.
My head still hurts but at least I could think.
And then another memory surfaced.
Chahat.
Her angry eyes.
Her tears.
Her voice calling me a narcissist heartless monster and accusing me of humiliating her.
I should not have said all those things to her.
A wave of regret settled heavily inside me.
I had been angry, blinded by jealousy but that didn't justify what I'd said.
I knew better.
I leaned back against the headboard and shut my eyes briefly.
It was all because of that boy.
That bastard had been sitting so close to her... holding her hand as though he had every right to. Every time I looked in their direction, my blood had boiled a little more.
And then...Ayaan had appeared beside me with a bottle.
I refused. More than once.
I was at the Rathores' house as a guest. Drinking there felt inappropriate but Ayaan had laughed, insisting it was a celebration.
"Bas ek sip."
(Just one sip.)
I had taken one then another and after that...everything blurred.
"Kaisa lag raha hai ab?" Dadi asked softly.
(How are you feeling now?)
I opened my eyes and gave her a small nod. "Theek hoon."
(I'm fine.)
She studied my face for a moment before speaking again.
"Kal raat tum... Chahat ke saath mile the. Guest room mein."
(Last night... you were with Chahat. In the guest room.)
I looked down at the half-empty glass in my hand.
"Haan." My voice was quieter now.
"Darwaza lock hogaya tha. Because I accidentally... broke the door knob when I was trying to open it."
(Yes. The door got locked because I accidentally... broke the doorknob while trying to open it.)
It wasn't entirely a lie. Nor was it the complete truth.
Dadi sighed but didn't question me further.
Instead, a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Chahat acchi baachi hai. Mujhe bahut pasand hai."
(Chahat is a good girl. I like her very much.)
A small smile tugged at my lips despite the headache.
Without thinking, the question escaped my mouth. "Mukti se bhi achhi?"
(Even better than Mukti?)
Dadi laughed softly. "Arey..." She affectionately shook her head. "Main dono ko tol thodi rahi hoon. Mukti apni jagah bahut achhi hai. Shaant hai... kam bolti hai... apni duniya mein rehti hai."
(Hey...I'm not comparing the two. Mukti is wonderful in her own way. She's calm... doesn't talk much... and keeps to herself.)
She paused for a moment before her smile grew warmer.
"Lekin Chahat...Mere paas baithti hai. Mujhse baatein karti hai. Mera itna dhyan rakhti hai." A fondness softened her eyes as she continued, "She makes me feel like a teenager again."
(But Chahat...She sits with me. Talks to me. Takes such good care of me.)
I couldn't help but smile.
For the first time that morning...the heaviness inside my chest eased a little.
Dadi noticed the smile immediately.
She leaned forward and kissed my forehead with the same affection she had shown me since childhood.
"Mera baccha."
(My child.)
I smiled faintly. If only she knew...the girl she adored probably hated me now. Probably? Definitely!
.
.
.
I wasn't supposed to be here. That much I knew the moment I heard Dadi casually mentioning "ladies ka function" downstairs...her voice filled with amusement, talking about songs, dance, and how the girls were enjoying themselves. It should have meant nothing to me.
But it did.
Because the first face that flashed in my mind... was hers.
Chahat.
My feet moved on their own, silent, calculated, as I made my way toward the courtyard where the function was happening. Laughter echoed before I even reached, the sound of dholak blending with teasing voices.
I stopped near the carved jaali, the intricate screen shielding the space from outside eyes.
I shouldn't look.
I knew that and yet... I did.
My gaze slipped through the patterned gaps and there she was.
Surrounded by women, being dragged into the center, resisting for a second before giving in. Ishika was practically bouncing with excitement beside her, clapping and cheering like she had just won something.
Then the music started.
'Kundi mat khadkao raja...'
My breath stilled and then she moved.
It wasn't just a dance.
It was a challenge.
Her laughter rang out, soft yet fearless, before she lifted her dupatta, covering her face till her nose... the exact same way she had that day.
That day.
The memory hit me so sharply it almost made my jaw clench.
'Kundi mat khadkao raja... seedha andar aao raja...'
The lyrics played, but it was her that held me captive.
Her movements weren't hesitant. They were fluid, confident... bold in a way that unsettled me. There was no shame in the way she carried herself, no second thoughts. She owned every glance, every cheer, every second of attention thrown at her.
And God... the way everyone was reacting.
Ishika was clapping the loudest, practically screaming her name. Kavita was laughing, nudging Seema chachi.
My gaze shifted to Dadi. She was smiling. Not just smiling but admiring.
The same woman who measured every girl with sharp eyes... was watching Chahat like she had already accepted her.
That did something strange to my chest.
Something I didn't like. My eyes drifted back to her.
The slight lift of her arm... the turn of her body... the way her waist came into view for a fraction of a second before the fabric shifted again my fingers curled into fists.
I shifted slightly, trying to get a clearer view, my focus narrowing, everything else fading into the background.
I took a step to the side, adjusting my position behind the jaali, my eyes still locked on her as if breaking that gaze would snap whatever invisible thread had tied me to that moment and suddenly...
Thud.
I stiffened as I collided with someone.
"What the..."
I turned sharply, irritation already rising, only to freeze.
"Ayaan?!"
He blinked at me, just as shocked, before a slow, knowing grin spread across his face.
"Well well..." he muttered under his breath, leaning slightly to peek through the jali. "Tum bhi yahan ho..."
(So you're here too...)
My jaw tightened instantly. "Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho."
(What are you doing here?)
"Main to Ishika ko dekhne aaya tha lekin tum..."
(I came here to see Ishika, but you...)
His eyes flicked between me and the scene ahead and then back to me again, amusement practically dancing in them.
"Interesting..." he murmured.
And for the first time in a long while...I didn't have a single comeback.
Because the truth? It was written all over my face.
He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he watched the scene unfold. "Mast lag rahi hai na, Chahat?" he whispered, his tone teasing, almost provoking.
(Chahat looks stunning, doesn't she?)
I didn't respond.
I didn't trust my voice to come out normal.
Instead, I shot him a sharp glare...one that clearly told him to shut up. But Ayaan being Ayaan only smirked, clearly enjoying every second of this.
Before I could say anything else, a faint rustling sound came from the other side of the corridor. My senses sharpened instantly. Ayaan and I exchanged a look and moved cautiously toward the source.
And there he was.
Rivan.
Crouched like a thief, peeking through another carved opening.
For a second, all three of us just stared at each other.
"What?" he muttered defensively, straightening a little. "Tum dono bhi toh yahan ho. Maine kuch bola kya?"
(You two are here as well. Did I say anything?)
Ayaan snorted under his breath, while I just shook my head, irritated but not enough to leave.
None of us left.
The music shifted again, laughter echoing louder as one performance ended and another began. Women from both families joined in, clapping, teasing, dancing without restraint. It was chaotic, loud and alive.
And then my gaze froze.
Dadi.
I blinked, almost disbelieving what I was seeing.
She was actually dancing.
Not just a step or two but enjoying herself. Her face held a kind of happiness I hadn't seen in years unguarded, free. And beside her...
Chahat.
They were dancing together.
Perfectly in sync, laughing, twirling, the entire crowd cheering for them. Ishika was practically jumping with excitement, hyping them up like a personal cheerleader.
Something shifted inside me watching that.
A strange, unfamiliar warmth... mixed with something sharper.
Possessive.
My eyes didn't leave Chahat for even a second.
Every time she smiled... every time she moved... it pulled at something inside me that refused to stay controlled anymore.
Then the music changed again.
A familiar beat.
'Choli ke peeche kya hai...'
The crowd erupted instantly.
Ishika dragged Chahat to the center again, this time with even more drama. She dropped to her knees playfully, taking on the "male" part while Chahat stood in front of her, adjusting her dupatta with a teasing flick.
And then they started.
It was playful, bold and dangerously captivating.