ARYAN

The ballroom didn't need flowers or drapes. It didn't need painting or polishing. The preservation of the historical Palace by the royal family while also accustoming it to the modern ways of living was nothing short of beautiful. The original chandelier, which was shaped like one giant flower, sprouting into different flowers or varying sizes, of the Palace from the medieval era was still useful, and the hundred diyas placed on it, and around it, were being lit. The torches placed along the pillars were lit too. Small windows along the ceiling of the room were open for ventilation. The room was designed to be beautiful and it was a relief that the design was classic.

I walked over to the stage built at the end of the ballroom, where Papa stood with Viraj Uncle. They stood over the counter where the shagun was placed discussing the layout. I walked over and stood behind them. Viraj uncle sensed my presence and turned to look at me.

"Do you not want to get married to my daughter?" He asked.

I froze. What gave it away?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Was it that evident? That I was dreading this marriage? And not for the reasons everyone thinks?

"Well, this Hawan is for you and your bride-to-be is getting ready," he said and looked at what I wore. The shirt and pants I wore in the morning, on the way here, while both Papa and Viraj Uncle had changed into the kurta. "While you are dressed like you are on your way to the office?"

This hawan was for one thing: that the upcoming events and festivities go over smoothly, and nothing inauspicious happens until the wedding is over. The hawan was the purest of the pure, and for that purpose, we were to wear a white dhoti kurta, while the women had to be decked in the lehengas, jewellery and all the shringar of a married woman.

Would Kethaki be wearing the same? Dressed like my wife for the hawan? Be there to fulfil her duty as my wife?

"I will change once everything is organised here and at the mandir for the hawan," I said and find

"Where's the ghee?" I heard Nath, our House Manager, ask one of the domestic help.

"What is happening?" I asked Nath and before I could go over to him to check if everything was in order, Dad turned me by my shoulders and pointed to the direction of the entrance to the ballroom.

"I will check the preparations," he said as he continued to push me in that direction. "There is a set mahurat and we are already late!" He said, and then actually pushed me out of the hall.

"Jiju?" I heard a familiar voice and turned.

"Mama Ji?" I said and walked over to greet him, but Papa stood in front of Anil Mama, then pointed out.

I walked away. There was no point in arguing with them over this. It was better to check the preparations of the hawan and then go over to my room to change. Was I stalling? Yes. Did I care? No.

I walked down the hallway to the stairs, that led down to the backside of the Palace, where the mandir was. It had a courtyard, with a Nandi statue situated at the end of it. Right behind Nandi was the stairs and on top of it, situated the Shivling. I walked inside the courtyard, where the open Mandir was being decorated with drapes and garlands.

I stepped inside when Parth blocked my way. I raised a brow at him and stepped to the side, to walk in, but he blocked me again. I looked at him and then stepped to the left when he blocked me again. I reached behind me to grab my gun and when I pulled it out, he pointed behind him. 

Chachu stood at the hawan kund holding a ghee canister. He pointed at the gate and glared at me to leave. 

"Dev Uncle called," Parth said.

I turned around and walked back towards the Palace. I ascended the stairs, to the first floor, the floor reserved for my family. As I stepped into the hallway, on my way to my room, Shivanya slipped to my right, silently. 

I looked at her.

"Did I startle you, Aryan Bhai," she asked as though she really thought she was sneaky.

"What do you think?" I asked her.

"I think she did," said someone from my left and I jumped a little.

Only Shiva. Only Shiva, to date, had managed to sneak up on me. Like she did now.

"I hate it when you two get together," I told Shiva.

She smiled.

"Don't you have a husband to annoy?" I asked her. We walked down the hallway together, and I wondered why they were following me.

There was nothing wrong with my sisters, but whenever Shivanya and Shiva got together, it was like hell had descended upon us. 

"He is on his way from work," she said. "I will annoy him when he arrives." 

"Okay," I said then opened the door to my room and turned to stand at the threshold. "Why are you following me?" I asked them as I put my hands against the doorframe, preventing them from entering.

They looked at each other and ducked under my hands thereby entering the room. 

I took a deep breath and turned around.

"Dev Mama asked us to keep an eye on you and make sure that you actually get ready in time for the hawan," Shivanya said. She walked over to my suitcase and opened it. Shiva dialled a number and called someone.

"Yeah, we have Aryan Bhai in the room," Shiva told someone on the phone. "I will make sure he gets ready in the next ten minutes."

Yeah, it was Papa on the phone.

"Where are your clothes, Bhai?" Shivanya asked.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Get out of my room."

"No," They said. 

Shiva put the phone away and walked over to the suitcase, where Shivanya browsed through its contents. Shiva, too, started scouring through the suitcase, in hopes of finding the white kurta I was supposed to wear for the hawan. 

I leaned against the door and crossed my hands in front of me then watched them do this for a while. 

"Arey," Shiva said. "Where is this kurta?"

"It should be here only," Shivanya said.

I looked at the kurta I had laid down on the opposite side of the bed when we first arrived here, then I looked at my sisters rummage through my suitcase, looking for it. Papa sent some really helpful workers to do this job, didn't he?

"You girls, are as useless," I said and walked over to where my kurta was kept and continued, "as you are a menace, together!" 

"Oh," Shivanya said as she looked at what I was holding.

"Well, go on, then. Freshen up and change," Shiva said and laid on my bed, stretched out and started scrolling on her phone.

"Oh, what's this?" Shivanya asked as she picked up the packet I had hidden under the clothes in my suitcase. 

I immediately walked over to her.

"This looks like a small jewellery box," she said as she examined it. She began to open and unpack it when I snatched it from her hands.

"Alright, that's it," I said and threw the box back in the suitcase. "Get out, both of you."

"Not until you are ready," Shiva said from where she had made herself comfortable on my bed. 

"If you two don't get out in the next 10 seconds," I enunciated. "Then I will tell your husband about what happened in Bora Bora last time, and good luck getting out of his sight after that," I threatened Shiva. "And I will increase your security ten times, and make sure that you are surrounded by guards every time you go on a date," I told Shivanya, pointing at her.

I began the countdown.

"Ten." Shiva scrambled out of the bed, somehow not falling on her face because of the lehenga and dupatta. Shivanya threw the clothes she was holding back in the suitcase.

"Nine." Both were on their way to the door.

"Eight." I walked over to the door as they stepped out. 

"Please be downstairs by 12:45, the mahurat is until 1:05 pm and we have to start before that," Shiva said from the gateway while Shivanya folded her hands in front of her, pleading me with her eyes.

I shut the door on their faces, and leaned against the door, my hands still holding the door handles. I looked behind me, to the box Shivanya held.

'Well, that was a close call.'

I grabbed the box and decided that it would be better to just keep it to myself. It would be safer that way. 

I walked into the washroom, took a quick shower, and changed into the kurta and dhoti. My hair was still wet, and the white collar of the kurta clung to my shoulders and neck, wet from my hair. I checked my phone and it was 12:40.

I grabbed the box and stuffed it in my pocket. On my way out, I picked up my phone and saw a shadow from the glass-stained panels on the door. I opened it, and Shivanya stood there, pouting.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Can we please invite Papa?" She asked.

"Shivanya," I warned her and started walking down the hall.

My little sister pouted some more. "Please? He isn't invited anywhere! Even at Om bhai's wedding, he wasn't invited. Om bhai is his son. And Dev Mama didn't allow him to come. Could we please, please, please invite him to yours?" She asked.

So that's the story her father told her. No wonder she insists on living with that son-of-a-bitch. All the lies he must have told her, all the ways he must have manipulated her against her mother.

"No!" 

I climbed down the stairs, conscious of the box sitting in the pockets of my kurta. The hawan was small, and restricted to the family. Guests were supposed to come after it was over and Kethaki and I were in our respective rooms, changing into the clothes for our Roka. 

"Where's Shiva?" I asked her, as she sulked her way to the Mandir with me. 

"She is at the Mandir with Vikram Jiju," she replied.

I stopped her.

"I know you love your dad," I told her. She stood in front of me, her eyes cast downwards. "I know you care for him, but he has hurt Vedika Bua too much for us to forgive him."

"I know." Her voice was small. "But he also needs someone in his life, and I can't leave him alone."

I pet her head. Shivanya's heart was too pure to be wasted on her father. 

"Come on," I told her and we walked into the Mandir. The havan kund was set and my family was waiting around it. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for her. Her family stood there too, including Jaya Uanty, who was helping her get ready. So, where was she?

"Please call the Groom," Pandit said, from where he sat in front of the hawan kund.

"Come here, Saale-Sahab," Vikram said, walking towards me. "Pandit Ji is calling you." He neared me.

"Kethaki?" He asked me. "Are you crazy?"

I took a deep breath. Everyone had been taking too much liberties with me. 

"Yes, and?" I asked as I began walking inside.

"Come on, quick, Aryan," Papa called. "Let's all sit down too," he told everyone, and they all took their seats. 

"You and Kethaki?" Vikram said. "Sounds like a bad deal."

"You are not the only one with business acumen, Vikram," I told him. "I know a bad deal when I see one." I climb the stairs to the kund and Vikram put his hand around my shoulders. 

"Yeah, but do you actually see anything whenever she is involved?" He whispered in my ear and walked away to sit beside his wife.

I ignored his comment and sat in my seat.

"Pandit Ji, his bride would be performing the puja with him," Dada Ji said.

"Then call the Bride, as well."

"Sounds so much like a wedding," Maithili commented. 

"She is here, Pandit Ji," Vikram said.

I looked. 

She wasn't here.

Parth slapped Vikram's shoulders, laughing. Shiva hid her face against her husband's shoulder, her shoulders shaking. 

"Oh my god," Shivanya wheezed as she nudged Maithili, who clutched her stomach, her face red from controlling her laugh. I looked at her husband, daring him to laugh. 

I was the butt of the joke. Vikram was lucky that he was Shiva's husband. His company would be dust, for his earlier comment, if it weren't for my sister.

"She is here now," Jaya Aunty said. I didn't look.

The sound of her payal grew louder, as she came closer. 

My eyes didn't budge. 

I could smell the fruity scent of her perfume. 

I still didn't look. 

"Here, take my hand." Shivansh's voice cut through the silence of the mandir.

I could hear the sound of her bangles. She must have taken his hands because I could hear the payal again. Her feet came into my view and I could see the red mahawar lining her feet. And then I caught the colour of the saree she wore. 

My eyes trailed up, slowly taking her in. Her Payal was oxidised. There were little ghungrus attached to it, which made the noise when she was walking over. The yellow colour of the saree bled into red, by the time I reached her waist. She wore a kamarbund that rested against the curves of her body. She adjusted her pleats and her red and yellow bangles jingled. 

She wore the yellow-red chiffon saree that my mother bought for my future bride. The blouse was yellow and she wore a thin diamond necklace. There was no make-up. Just a little kajal around her eyes, and a bindi between her eyebrows. Her straight long hair was wet and air-dried, a little wild.

She looked like my nightmare. 

The things that I felt, when we were thirteen before she decided to change the dynamic of our relationship, surged within me.

'No. No, Aryan! You can't fall back into that trap.'

She walked around the kund to walk over to her seat. The scent of her perfume engulfed me as she took her seat. 

"You can start, Pandit Ji," I told him and sat straighter. 

We started. 

Pandit Ji prepared the hawan kund, the fire started, and he began chanting the mantras. The hawan went on for an hour. Nobody spoke and everyone focused on the puja. And Kethaki sat beside me all this time. The smell of smoke from the fire and wood couldn't cover her perfume. In fact, it turned the fruity scent more decadent.

I was fucked. Completely, and utterly fucked. 

My brain knew that I shouldn't go ahead. That walking down this path, towards Kethaki, was the beginning of my destruction. I couldn't have that. I couldn't be the fool I was all those years ago.

The minute the hawan was concluded, we got up and took the blessings of our elders.

I needed to get out of here. 

"Is it done?" I asked.

"Not yet," Pandit Ji said. "Take this kalash of milk, and pour it over the shivling." 

I reached over to pick it up when Pandit Ji spoke again. "Both of you."

Kethaki picked up the kalash from the ground and started walking towards the shivling leaving me behind. I walked behind her.

The sound of her payal couldn't escape my attention. Even the sound of her bangles jingling, mixed with the sound of her payal. We walked down the path, crossed the Nandi statue and she climbed the stairs, first. The hips swung, and the kamarbund scrapped against her skin. I could see the little grooves and the little reddening of her skin. 

I climbed the stairs behind her. 

She held the kalash in her right hand and with her right, she flicked her hair and scooped it all and swept it to her front, on her left shoulder. 

She wore a backless blouse. Of course. Of course, she wore a backless blouse. That's all she wore. Backless dresses, backless tops, backless blouses. 

She stopped in front of the shivling and I stood to her right. I reached over to hold the kalash, knowing fully well that I was going to touch her skin. 

In the past, I had always made it a point to keep my distance from her. To make sure that I didn't touch her. I knew what would happen. I would slip. And would keep slipping if the distance grew smaller. This marriage would incinerate the distance in one blow. And even now, as I were to hold her hand, I knew that the hold I had on myself would slip. 

Holding the kalash with my right hand, I looked at her, and she looked at me. Her hair was on one side and she looked like she came from my dirties fantasies.

She gasped. "Your hands are cold!"

"Deal with it."

I was in the middle of a puja, and my mind strayed to the thoughts of corrupting her.

'Get your head together, Aryan. You don't have any morals, but you need to draw the line at defiling the Mandir.'

We bent over the shivling and extended our arms over the shivling. We tilted the kalash and poured the milk slowly.

"Om Namah Shivaay," we started chanting together.

Milk splashed over us as we continued to pour. Her hand was in my hands, and it engulfed it. Her skin was soft. Softer than the saree she wore. 

We emptied the kalash, and I took it from her. She snatched it right back from my hand, turned around, and started walking away. 

I followed her. 

Again. 

We walked back.

"Let's go Kethaki. You have to get ready for the Roka ceremony," Jaya Aunty said as we neared them. Kethaki placed the kalash on the floor and her ass stuck out in front of me. The pallu slipped forward, and her entire back was displayed before me. The red and yellow complemented her skin.

The red looked far better on her than purple ever did.

"Aryan, you also leave," Papa told me. "Parth and Vikram, go with him."

Much better candidates to keep an eye over me, than the duo of terror.

"Come on, Saale-Sahab," Vikram said.

"Yes, Dulhe Raaja," Parth said. "We have to get you ready for your Roka."

I walked out of the Mandir with them. That was for the good. I needed to be far away from her. Maybe, then, I would be able to get my head right.

"What do you think of PrinSant, Parth?" Vikram asked.

God, someone shut him up. He was better like the stoic and grumpy man I knew before he met my sister. He was better to be around then than he was now. 

"Oh, I don't think he could have made a better decision," he replied.

Vikram laughed. "That's where we disagree. It's a bad bet."

"For Aryan? Of course!"

I looked at him. 

"What does that even mean?" I asked Parth.

"What? Like you don't know that Kethaki holds the exact cards that are needed to bring you to your knees," it was Vikram who had replied. 

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Says the man who literally begged his wife on his knees to take him back," I told him.

He smiled. "I did, I know. At that time, I was convinced that I would bring people to their knees, not the other way around. And she proved me wrong. Which is why I am telling you that if you think you won't fall for her, you are wrong."

I ignored him. We had reached the first floor, where both their rooms were located on the other end of the hallway.

"He won't listen Parth. He just needs to make the same mistake as I did, to understand what we mean," Vikram said. His phone went off, and he picked it up.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He said. Then nodded. "Okay, I am on my way."

"Shiva?" Parth asked him.

"No, my other wife." 

I stared at my brother-in-law. 

"Relax. It's your sister," Vikram replied. "I have to go. Shiva wants us to coordinate the colours we wear today and I need to give my input." He said and began walking backwards. "You make sure he gets ready." Then he turned on his feet and walked towards his room, on the same floor.

"Why do I have to take care of that?" Parth called.

"Because you don't have a wife to appease," Vikram replied.

"This man is a billionaire," Parth said as he watched him enter his room. "With thousands of employees working for him, and yet he turns on his heels and on his way to his wife if she so much as sneezes."

"I know," I said. "And he had the audacity to think that I would end up like him."

"Oh, you will." 

I reached for my gun again.

"No, I mean, remember when we were young?" Parth said, reaching out and grabbing my hand, preventing me from pulling out my gun. "When we were thirteen? Before that summer when the Thakurs had gone MIA for three months?"

How could I forget? The person she had become since then had been trying to get on my nerves till now. And succeeded every single time. I opened the door to my room and walked inside, with Parth walking in behind me. The suitcase was still open from when Shiva and Shivanya had made a mess out of it. 

"See? You do." Parth dropped down on the chair and looked at the clothes I held in my hands. 

I walked to the washroom to change when his words stopped me dead in my tracks.

"And remember how madly in love with her you were?" Parth's voice was low and suggestive. I turned to look at him and sure enough, he looked like the devious devil that he was. "Remember how you used to follow her around with your eyes all the time and try to grab her attention whenever she looked away?"

"What is wrong with you?" I asked him, genuinely meaning it. "Are you sick?"

"You can deny all you want, my friend. But you can't change the way you used to behave around her when we were young."

I shook my head and walked away to change. Everyone had their own theories, and they could believe whatever they wished to. Past remained in the past and all I cared about was the present. And in this time, Kethaki was the person I hated and no amount of chiffon sarees, backless blouses and dresses would change that. 

"Fuck her and her backless dresses," I murmured as I changed.

~*~

Follow @aainamundra on Instagram for regular updates!
• Teaser release on Thursdays
• Chapter updates on Saturdays on Wattpad | Early updates on Scrollstack on Tuesdays which is free for my followers
• Sneak Peaks into the book on Sundays