𝘼𝙉𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏𝘼'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑   (Song : Agar tum sath ho

I sat before the mirror, watching the reflection of a bride who felt like a stranger.

My makeup artist dabbed the final touch of sindoor-colored lipstick on my lips and stepped back to admire her work. "Beautiful," she said with a satisfied smile. Beautiful. The word felt hollow, almost mocking, as though the painted face in the mirror could hide the chaos swirling within me.

I picked up my spectacles, the familiar weight bringing a fleeting comfort, a voice in my head whispered that Viaan preferred me with them. The thought stung more than it should have.

Viaan. His name was a forbidden prayer now, a shadow that refused to leave even as I stepped into a future without him.
I couldn't help but think about 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
The one I had dreamt of marrying.
The one who had my heart since I learnt a human possess one.

The whispers of the past tugged at me, haunting and relentless. Viaan’s gaze. His voice. His touch. I could almost feel the warmth of his hand brushing against mine, the way his words lingered in the air long after he was gone.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the bangles laid out on the table. I slid them on one by one, their soft clink echoing like a countdown to the inevitable. The bride in the mirror stared back at me, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of the shehnai began, signaling that the moment was near.

I folded my hands in prayer, my lips moving silently.

Hey Kahna ji, if this is my fate, give me the strength to accept it. If there’s another path for me, show me a sign.

But the silence that followed was deafening.

A knock at the door pulled me back to reality. “Anshita, it’s time,” someone called out.

I stood slowly, my legs heavy, my heart heavier. The mirror caught my reflection one last time before I turned away. I didn’t know if it was courage or resignation that pushed me forward, but with every step toward the mandap, I left another piece of myself behind.

The jewelery felt heavy on my skin, as though the weight of every expectation, every decision that wasn't mine, had been chained around my neck.

The hall buzzed with the hum of celebration, but to me, it felt like a distant echo. As I walked toward the mandap, each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of my lehenga no match for the turmoil in my heart.

And then I saw him.

Viaan.

He stood among the guests, his gaze sharp and unwavering. My heart stuttered. Was he here for me? Did he finally realize what I couldn’t say? For a brief moment, hope bloomed in my chest like a stubborn flame, refusing to be extinguished.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just... watched.

The mantras began, the rituals proceeded, but my focus faltered. My eyes found him over and over, hoping for a sign, a miracle. But all I saw was his silence. The hope I had clung to slowly withered, replaced by a cold emptiness.

By the time the phere began, I had nothing left. My heart had surrendered to the truth—I was on my own.

Then, just as Sahil reached for my hand, a voice rang out.

“Stop.”

It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to shake the air, the room, and me. I turned, my breath caught in my throat.

Viaan stepped forward, his eyes burning with something I couldn’t name, something that made my world tilt. The guests murmured, the pandit paused, and in that moment, time stood still.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

It was how it was meant to begin.

He walked toward me, each step deliberate, each moment stretching longer than it should. The air around him was heavy, charged with an aura that demanded attention and instilled fear. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to them. My hands trembled as he stopped mere inches from me.

“I have a proposal,” he said, his deep voice slicing through the stillness.

My breath hitched. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this. Not now.

“This wedding,” he continued, glancing at the Sahil standing at the altar, “won’t happen.”

Gasps erupted around the room. Daddy's face darkened with anger, but before anyone could react, Viaan turned back to me, his eyes locking with mine.

“Marry me instead.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, daring me to refuse. My world tilted, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. This was my dream, my first love standing before me, offering me everything I'd ever wanted. But something in his gaze told me this wasn’t about love.

It was something darker.

Still, this heart of mine is screaming desperately for him.

I looked at daddy, then mumma.
Their eyes widened,shaking their heads in warning. I shook mine refusing to give this right to them.

And then I did the boldest thing of my life.

I ran straight in his arms.

I looked at Viaan, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The chaos around me faded into a dull hum as my gaze locked with his, searching for answers I already knew. My voice trembled at first, but then it steadied, carrying the weight of my decision.

“Yes,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. My eyes softened as they held his. “Yes, Viaan, I’ll marry you.”

I turned toward the stunned crowd, my voice gaining strength. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. For once, I’m choosing what my heart wants. And my heart...” I looked back at him, my voice almost a whisper but filled with conviction. “...has always wanted you.”

He then looked at daddy, with a daring expression.
For once in a lifetime I saw fear in daddy's eyes.

No one dared to step forward not even the so called fearless and powerful Sahil Walia.

Viaan filled sindoor in the partition of my hair, when he tied mangalsutra around my neck.

Now I was officially
Mrs. ANSHITA VIAAN SURYAVANSHI