CHAPTER 26 #2
Hearing that about Raghav feels almost unreal. That man looks like he belongs among bloodshed, guns, whiskey glasses, and darkness. Not temple bells, sandalwood, and morning prayers. How can a man who spent half his life in the underworld possess such devotion towards God?
But maybe it shouldn’t surprise me. I’ve seen how much he values the memory of his mother, whom he never even had the chance to know. The pendant he wears is proof enough of that. I quickly shake those thoughts away and turn back to Kailash Uncle.
He speaks calmly, a quiet pride in his voice. “Every morning before starting his day, he lights the diya and offers fresh flowers to God.”
My brows furrow instantly. Raghav? Offering flowers in a mandir every morning?
For some reason, my brain refuses to even imagine that visual properly.
This is the same man who looked ready to kill his own brother barely an hour ago, the same man who forcefully married me in front of the entire underworld.
He apparently stands before these deities every morning in silence and prays. Seriously?
Uncle gestures towards an empty marble shelf beside the idols. “Anyway, you can place yours here,” he tells Mom. “This room is yours too now, whenever you wish to pray.”
Mom slowly walks forward, her expression softening as she carefully places her Krishna idol beside the others.
“This is beautiful,” she whispers. “Back at Vardhaan Mansion, I always wanted a small, peaceful mandir like this in the house.” A sad smile touches her lips. “But Shamsher, my husband, was never really a believer.”
Her fingers adjust the edge of her saree pallu over her head before continuing, “I never imagined I would find a place like this.”
I glance around the room again. Neither did I.
Mom folds her hands before the idols. “This place feels so peaceful.”
Kailash Uncle quietly watches her for a few seconds before finally speaking again.
“Now that we are standing before God, there’s something I want to tell both of you. I’m not here to justify what Raghav did. Because I know there is no justification for forcing a marriage like this.”
I stay quiet. Mom doesn’t interrupt either.
He lets out a weary breath. “The truth is, what Raghav did has shaken this entire family. Not just because of the marriage, but because with a single decision, he dragged the shadow of the underworld back towards himself again. For two and a half years, we all believed that the darkness inside him had finally gone silent.”
His eyes drift towards the flickering diya.
“But the day he picked up that gun again, I realised maybe I was wrong. It’s so hard to understand him sometimes.”
After a moment, he looks at me.
“Raghav doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words,” he says.
“That boy… he has spent his entire life expressing emotions through actions instead of words. He reacts before he explains. He protects before he speaks. And sometimes he tries to control situations so aggressively that even we fail to understand what he’s truly feeling. ”
His voice softens. “I’m not asking you to forgive him, Siya.”
Something inside me unexpectedly loosens on hearing those words. Because at least somebody here understands forgiveness is not that simple.
“But I can promise you one thing,” he says firmly now. “That man will never let harm come anywhere near his family. He may destroy himself if need be, but he would never intentionally destroy the people he considers his own.”
His own?
“You may have imagined freedom differently,” he goes on.
“Maybe somewhere far away from all this. Far away from the mafia world.” His eyes move around RK Estate visible through the temple windows.
“But this house and this family will still give you the respect you deserve, protection, and a place to call your own.”
Mom listens quietly beside me.
“You both are a part of our family now,” he adds. “And that will never change.”
After a moment, he says something that makes Mom stiffen faintly beside me.
“Raghav never really received a mother’s love while growing up, and the less said about his father, the better.
That boy learned violence long before he learned affection.
He grew up surrounded by bloodshed, betrayal, and survival.
” A tired smile appears on his face. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t even know what softness is supposed to feel like. ”
Mom’s fingers tighten unconsciously around the edge of her saree pallu.
“Ayaan still had me,” Uncle continues softly.
“But Raghav…” He shakes his head slowly.
“He had no one. He grew up in a completely different kind of darkness and saw a version of life no child ever should. Violence, fear, power... these were the things that shaped him. He spent his entire childhood craving things he never received.”
He slowly looks at Mom and me again.
“So please,” he says quietly, “don’t judge this entire family because of one wrong decision Raghav made.”
One wrong decision?
Forcefully marrying someone at gunpoint inside a mandap doesn’t exactly feel small enough to be called one wrong decision.
Maybe Uncle realises that too, because he sighs wearily before adding, “My son is not a bad person, Siya. He just made the worst decision at the worst possible moment.”
For some reason, hearing that hurts more than it should. Because every person who loves a dangerous man always says the same thing.
He’s not bad.
He’s broken.
Kailash Uncle leans back slightly against the carved wooden pillar near the mandir.
“It was only in the last two and a half years that Raghav and Ayaan found each other again,” he reveals.
“Before that, they were two strangers despite being brothers. It was only then that Raghav truly became part of this family. Only then did things start to change. But healing a man like Raghav takes time. Sometimes years. Sometimes even an entire lifetime.”
Neither Mom nor I interrupt him. We just listen.
“And maybe there’s still a long road ahead for him. With both of you here now… he might finally reach that peace someday.”
My brows pull together as I process those words. I’m not sure whether to feel sympathy or a sense of unease. Because this entire family keeps speaking as if my marriage to Raghav is permanent, as if there’s no escaping it anymore.
Kailash Uncle turns towards Mom.
“A good woman by his side,” he says quietly, referring to me, “and a motherly presence in his life…” His voice falters slightly before he adds, “Those are things Raghav never truly had.”
The room falls silent again. Just then, Haider knocks on the mandir door and calls for Kailash Uncle.
He straightens immediately. “I need to go.”
Mom folds her hands respectfully towards him again. Before leaving, he pauses near the doorway and glances back at us. This time, he genuinely looks hopeful.
“I truly hope,” he says softly, “that one day this place starts feeling like home to both of you.”
Then he walks away. Mom slowly turns towards me. And for several seconds, neither of us says a word.
****************
Night
It’s close to midnight, and the entire villa feels too quiet after the chaos Raghav brought into everybody’s lives. He still hasn’t returned since walking out earlier after warning his entire family about me.
Nobody knows where he is. And strangely, despite how much I want to ignore them, Kailash Uncle’s words from earlier keep echoing in my mind. Especially the part about how broken he really is beneath all that violence, anger, and control.
Mom is finally resting in her room. But before going to sleep, she had asked if I could make her some tea. Apparently, warm elaichi tea helps her to calm down at night.
So here I am, inside what can only be described as a dream kitchen. The moment I step further inside, I notice Meher standing in front of an open refrigerator, completely engrossed in whatever she is searching for.
What is she doing here at night?
I clear my throat softly. “Can I help you?”
She nearly jumps in shock.
“Oh my God!” she gasps, clutching her chest and giving me a mock glare. “Siya! You literally scared me to death.”
“Sorry,” I say immediately, trying not to laugh.
“No, seriously,” she mutters, shutting the refrigerator door halfway. “Thank God it’s you. For one second, I thought it was either Ayaan or Raghav.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “And what would have happened if it was them?”
Meher narrows her eyes at me as if I’ve just asked the world’s stupidest question. “They would’ve stopped me from committing this crime.”
“Crime?” I repeat, confused.
She sighs tragically, leans closer, and whispers conspiratorially, “Eating chocolate truffle pastry.”
I blink. “That’s the crime?”
“You have no idea,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Apparently, my husband and yours are both convinced that sugar is poison for pregnant women.”
Despite myself, the corners of my mouth twitch at her words. “They’ve practically banned every enjoyable thing from my diet,” she grumbles. “Ice cream gone. Pastries gone. Chocolate mousse gone. Even the Nutella disappeared mysteriously.”
“You make it sound like a mafia raid.”
“It was a mafia raid,” she declares with a huff. “Doctor’s orders. Also, my overprotective husband and equally overprotective brother-in-law are a deadly combination. I’m carrying this family’s heirs and still living such a deprived life.”
A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it as Meher finally shuts the refrigerator door in disappointment.
“I knew I wouldn’t find anything here either,” she mutters. “Raghav barely touches anything sweet, so expecting to find chocolate pastry here was probably wishful thinking. Still, I thought I’d check just in case,” she sighs.
I smile, but then her expression softens slightly.
“I can’t even imagine what you must be going through right now,” she says honestly, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “If Ayaan had married me like this without my consent, I would’ve probably smashed his head with a flower vase.”
I snort softly.