The Raizada Mansion buzzed with quiet preparation for the havan. The family had no idea the fire they were preparing for was already raging inside two hearts.

-×-

Morning – Shantivan

Khushi sat at the dressing table, braiding her hair in silence. Her eyes fell on the red sindoor tin near the mirror. Her hand froze.

She remembered the moment—when Arnav had filled her maang, his eyes dark with fury, not love.

Khushi (whispering):

“Yeh rishta sirf ek majboori hai… aur aaj bhi bas ek naatak.”

(This bond is only a compulsion… and even today, just an act.)

But her heart—treacherous heart—beat a little faster every time she thought of his eyes, the regret in his voice the previous night.

She shook her head and got up.

-×-

Living Room – Later That Morning

The havan kund was set. Sacred chants filled the air as the priest arranged samagri around the fire. Nani, Anjali, and the rest of the family sat nearby, while Manorama fussed about flower arrangements.

Priest:

“Dono pati-patni havan ke paas aakar baith jaayein.”

(The husband and wife should sit by the havan now.)

Khushi walked in quietly, dressed in a simple red saree with her dupatta covering her head. Her eyes remained downcast.

Arnav joined her moments later, dressed in a cream kurta-pyjama. As he sat beside her, the tension between them was thick.

Their hands accidentally brushed as they offered ghee into the flames.

Khushi (pulling her hand away):

“Yeh sab naatak hai. Toh haathon ka milna dikhawa kyun ho?”

(This is all a facade. Why pretend even our hands can touch?)

Arnav didn’t reply. But his jaw clenched.

Priest:

“Ab pati-patni ek-doosre ko mann se svikaar karne ki sankalp karein.”

(Now the husband and wife must take a vow to accept each other with heart and soul.)

Khushi looked away.

Priest (to Arnav):

“Pehle pati sankalp lein.”

(The husband will vow first.)

Arnav’s eyes didn’t leave Khushi’s face.

Arnav (softly, but firmly):

“Main Arnav Singh Raizada… Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada ko… apni patni ke roop mein… man, vachan aur karma se svikaar karta hoon.”

(I, Arnav Singh Raizada, accept Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada as my wife in mind, word, and deed.)

Khushi’s breath caught. Her head turned to him involuntarily.

Priest (to Khushi):

“Ab patni sankalp lein.”

(Now the wife will vow.)

Khushi’s throat tightened. She could feel the eyes of the whole family on her… and Arnav’s gaze, steady and almost pleading.

Khushi (barely audible):

“Main… Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada… Arnav Singh Raizada ko… apne pati ke roop mein… man, vachan aur karma se…”

Her voice broke, “svikaar karti hoon.”

(I accept Arnav Singh Raizada as my husband in mind, word, and deed.)

The flames crackled, as if bearing witness to something deeper than a ritual.

-×-

After the Havan – Terrace

Khushi had come to escape. The closeness, the vows, his eyes—it was all too much. She needed air.

Khushi (to herself):

“Yeh sab jhoot hai. Bas ek aur drama. Unke liye yeh sab kuch nahi hai.”

(This is all a lie. Just another drama. For him, none of this means anything.)

She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.

Arnav:

“Mere liye sab kuch badal gaya hai.”

Khushi turned, startled.

Arnav (earnestly):

“Khushi… main jaanta hoon ki maine tumhare saath nainsaafi ki. Par jo kuch havan mein kaha… woh naatak nahi tha.”

(I know I’ve wronged you. But what I said during the havan—it wasn’t an act.)

Khushi (bitterly):

“Toh kya tha? Pachtaava? Guilt? Ya ek aur zimmedari?”

(Then what was it? Regret? Guilt? Or just another duty?)

Arnav:

“Pyaar tha.”

(It was love.)

Her breath caught.

Khushi (softly):

“Ab keh rahe ho?”

(Now you say it?)

Arnav (stepping closer):

“Jab galti samajh aaye, tabhi maafi maangi ja sakti hai. Aur pyaar… jab dil se mehsoos ho, tabhi use kehna chahiye.”

(One can only ask forgiveness when they realize their mistake. And love… should be confessed only when it’s truly felt.)

Khushi looked away, her eyes brimming.

Arnav (voice low):

“Mujhe ek aur moka do, Khushi. Sab kuch thik karne ka. Tumhara bharosa jeetne ka.”

(Give me one more chance, Khushi. To fix everything. To win back your trust.)

She didn’t say yes.

But for the first time… she didn’t say no either.

-×-

To be continued…

Next up: Chapter 8: Bharosa Ki Dehleez

By

Muskan Tarway

Like / Vote, comment and follow more part