Chapter 16 #3
The words rang a little too loudly in her ears.
There were no cameras around, so he had no reason to play the role of a loving father.
He clearly didn’t see this as his daughter’s wedding, but as his victory over the jewellery market.
He didn’t see the little girl who used to curl up on the sofa in his study, waiting for him to come home every day, and he didn’t see the woman in front of him, carrying the weight of a deal he had forced on her.
If her mother had been here, she would have cried. She would have held her hand when the nerves got the better of her, and would have smiled like she meant it. The sting of her absence coiled in her chest and she blinked back the tears.
Once the ritual was complete, Kartik walked away without even once looking at her.
She bowed her head, feeling her heart crushed under the weight of disappointment.
Abhay still held her hand in his, and when he saw her trying hard to maintain her composure, he caressed his thumb on the edge of her palm.
Meera stood behind them as she took an edge of her veil and the other edge of Abhay’s shawl, and tied them together in a knot. She gave them a quick smile, then took back her seat next to Raghav, behind them.
‘Now that the bride and the groom are tied together by the knot of destiny, please stand for your pheras. As you complete each circle around the sacred pit, with the sky and the holy fire as your witness, repeat each of the vows after me.’
As the priest explained the sanctity of the saat pheras, Siya felt their significance seep into her reluctant heart.
‘The first four vows belong to the groom as he leads the bride around the fire, and the last three vows belong to the bride as the groom follows her. These seven vows are lifelong commitments, and bind two souls in a holy bond of trust, respect, and love.’
They stood, and their eyes met for a fleeting second before they began their first circle around the fire. She followed behind him as the fire crackled beside them.
Abhay repeated after the priest in a resounding tone. ‘I vow to nourish you with care and patience, and provide welfare and happiness for you and our family.’
Siya felt a crack form in her emotional armour, the weight of the vow settling down on her. He stared at her as they completed the circle, and his grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly.
As they began their second circle, Abhay followed after the priest and said, ‘I vow to build a life with you rooted in honesty, and to make sure what we share is always built on trust.’
Golden hues of the fire crackled as they began their third circle. Abhay said, ‘I vow to walk beside you in health and in sickness, in joy and in sorrow as your courage and strength.’
The sting behind her eyes came without warning, and she blinked hard as they stepped over rose petals and began their fourth circle.
Abhay traced the edges of her knuckles with his thumb as he said, ‘I vow to honour your independence, your dignity, and your respect, and promise to consult you in all important matters, as you are my resolute well-wisher.’
‘Now the bride will walk ahead of the groom and make her vows to him,’ the priest gestured for them to exchange places.
The holy fire flickered as she shifted to walk ahead of him, her hand trembling slightly within the warm cocoon of his hand.
She heard the priest chant the vow in Sanskrit, then repeated after him when he prompted her.
The words tasted foreign on her tongue as she said them, but the weight of responsibility settled in her chest. ‘I vow to be your strength in all walks of life and I promise to honour your family as mine with tenderness and truth.’
Abhay followed after her as they began the sixth circle and she said, ‘I vow to find strength in our differences, patience in our storms, and laughter in all the seasons we’ll share, and promise to choose you not just in love, but in comfort, in conflict, in the everyday.’
As they began the final circle, she made her final vow. ‘As God is my witness, I vow to forsake all others, to love and cherish you as my best friend and husband. You are mine, and I am yours, for all eternity.’
Abhay tangled his fingers with hers as they completed the seventh circle, and echoed her vow. ‘As God is my witness, I vow to forsake all others, to love and cherish you as my best friend and wife. You are mine, and I am yours, for all eternity.’
‘With this final vow, you have pledged yourselves to each other for eternity. You are bound by the sacred vows that will last beyond this life,’ the priest announced as he poured the last of the offering in the holy fire.
And in that instant, it hit her. She was married to Abhay. Her father may have put this into motion, but they were now bound in a sacred relationship.
The anklet was meant to stay in her pocket as her secret, but something shifted inside her when she saw the priest blessing the mangalsutra so he could hand it over to Abhay.
In that suspended moment between ritual and reality, she reached into the pocket of her lehenga and her fingers closed around the delicate silver.
Siya wanted to mark one moment that hadn’t been orchestrated or twisted or forced by anyone else, and that’s why she pulled it out and showed it to Abhay.
He saw the anklet on her palm, and then his gaze collided with hers.
The tiny seashells glimmered faintly against her henna-stained skin, and his eyes—those impossibly expressive eyes—widened before softening with gratitude so reverent, it made her chest tighten.
Abhay let out a laugh of relief, because she’d just given him something he hadn’t dared to hope for. He picked it up, and smoothly went down on one knee as he fastened the anklet around her ankle. His thumb brushed the inside of her foot, light and warm and maddeningly tender.
The cool metal slid over her skin with a faint jingle. ‘Thank you for giving me my favourite part of the ceremony,’ he said looking up at her, love glowing unabashedly in his eyes.
She blinked down at him, unable to summon words when her chest was this full. In him, she saw the glimpse of the man she had once loved, the one who smiled with mischief and kissed her wildly. This, she told herself, was the moment she married him.
When Abhay rose, the priest handed him the mangalsutra and as the chants began, he leaned forward to tie it around her neck.
The black and gold beads felt cool against her collarbone, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the fire.
Abhay’s fingers brushed the nape of her neck, leaving goosebumps in their trail as he secured the clasp.
She swallowed hard, her fingers instinctively reaching up to touch the mangalsutra, its significance undeniable.
The pandit then handed him the vermillion encased in the small platinum box. Abhay dipped his fingers into the red sindoor, and as he moved forward, she closed her eyes.
He pressed the powder into the parting of her hair with care, and a little fell onto the bridge of her nose.
For all the resentment she felt toward him, there was no denying the gravity of this moment.
This wasn’t a ritual she could dismiss as mere tradition.
It was a claim, a promise, a binding thread between them.
His hand lingered for just a beat too long, and when her eyes fluttered open, Abhay was watching her with a possessive gleam in his eyes gnawing at her in ways she couldn’t explain.
With that, the priest raised both his hands in the air, and announced them husband and wife. Applause and whistles rang through the room, and Siya blinked as if surfacing from under water. The loudest cheer came from the first row of cushions where their friends were seated.
Meera and Kashvi blew kisses at her as Luv, Swayam, and Raghav clapped with utter joy. Next to them were seated Mihit and Neena, watching them emotionally. Neena’s eyes were red-rimmed and glistening and Mihit gave a nod to Abhay.
Her father was nowhere to be found. That wasn’t surprising to her.
What was surprising was Dhruv standing at the back of the room, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
It was startling in its vulnerability. When he caught her eye, he quickly turned around and walked out of the room.
Siya was momentarily thrown, unsure what to make of it.
Abhay found her hand, pulling her attention back to him.
‘You’ve officially run out of ways to escape me now,’ he said, teasing her. He smiled like he knew exactly how easily he could still do this to her.
‘Is that so?’ she narrowed her eyes at him, but a small smile broke through.
‘Absolutely,’ he whispered, tracing his thumb slowly against her pulse. Then he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. ‘Now that you’re my wife, I plan on making it very hard for you to keep pretending you don’t like this.’
Her heart hammered a little too fast in her chest, and Siya realised with a dizzying clarity that this man, her husband, was going to make it very hard for her to keep her distance.