“Did you go shopping for the wedding?” Diya asked.
“Hmm. . .” Chandra trailed off, taking the time to decode his mother’s words. He was sitting with his feet up on the couch and clutching the phone between his right ear and shoulder. To create a complete upward structure of a shoe, an upper settled between his thighs to hold it, as skillfully his hands moved an awl with a nylon thread to connect the upper with a vamp, like sewing pieces of clothes to make a dress.
“Chaand, are you listening to me?”
“No, I haven’t,” he replied.
His mother sighed. “Two days earlier, I told you to go shopping.”
“Ahh!” The phone fell to the floor as Chandra yelped painfully. His forefinger tip grazed by the awl. His delicate fingers wrapped in layers of one inch paper tape in the middle parts of his fingers for safety, yet his other two fingers covered in the bandages. And now the blood was oozing out of a new cut, flowing along the edge until the paper tape wrapped around his finger soaked it. He hissed in pain. Leaving the stuff on the couch, he bent down, jacked up the phone, and palmed it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” He took the tissue paper from the box to stop the blood.
“You cut yourself again?”
He pressed his lips together. “Nothing serious.” He assured her as his eyes searched for bandages through the mess of shoemaking tools and other uppers, vamps, soles and colourful nylon spools on the table.
“I didn’t know you would be this serious about making shoes. It’s dangerous. You should stop this.”
Chandra chuckled at his mother’s exaggerated fretting for him.
They were sharp tools, but not dangerous if one knew how to use them. Hurting was normal by the tool sometimes. And Chandra had nicked his fingers a few times while cutting the leather. His father had a few employees for different jobs working on the same type of shoes, while Chandra had to do everything by himself. Even though Chandra had no vigorous practice in making shoes, his knowledge was vast. And His big brother let him have some fun at the factory where many men’s leather shoes were made. He would watch and make notes. Sometimes, he would make shoes too. And he enjoyed it.
“Stop laughing, Chaand,” she scolded him.
“I am fine, Ma. I will just put on a bandage.” He found the bandages beneath a spool and yanked them.
“And get a tetanus injection.”
“Uhn-haan,” He said, tearing a bandage.
“And tomorrow you are going to Jatasya.” Jatasya was the name of Aryan Singh’s house.
Wrapping the bandage around his fingers like his other fingers, he said, “But there are four days left in the Lagun.”
He remembered the dates on the wedding invitation card, which was delivered to the original owner fifteen days before the wedding. When the original owner opened the card, he’d burned it to the ashes on the gas stove.
“Chaand, listen to me, you are not the guest to go on the day of the Lagun function. You are family, beta. And you need to be present there before all the guests arrive.”
“What about shopping?”
“Say this to your husband,” His mother said in an earnest voice, and went on, “You call me from there tomorrow, okay?”
“Uhn-haan.” And they hung up the calls after saying goodbye.
–
Standing on the side of the road, Chandra’s eyes squinted against the noon sunlight reflected against the tallest glass building among the other many bungalows called Jatasya in this elite neighbourhood by the edge of the ocean. The building was twenty-nine stories high and had walls furnished with a vertically sheared garden. It looked more like a luxurious hotel rather than a house. He tilted his down and rubbed his neck as it was aching after counting the floors. Also, he was extremely tired after his four-hour long drive, even though he had come by taxi.
He looked across the road to the gate where a few men were guarding it. His stomach lurched in knots of anxiety. The people living in Jatasya were strangers to him, even if he was related to them. And they loathed him. Although it was reasonable, as he’d left his son and his husband. And he had tried to steal Veer from Amolaka with his hideous tactics. On their engagement day, he attempted to kill Amolaka by putting peanuts in her food, which she was allergic to. The original owner didn’t want to kill her, but wanted to stop their engagement. Otherwise, he had no problem if Amolaka died.
Chandra breathed deeply and blew it out. His lips formed a grin as the thought of meeting Shivam exhilarated him. Grabbing his luggage, he walked to the gate across the street.
“May I help you with anything?” One of the security men approached him.
Chandra stupefied all the security men the moment he took his hood off over his head. They had never seen an omega as beautiful as him.
“Yes, you can let me go inside,” Chandra grinned.
It was the wedding house, so guests would arrive before the day of the function or on the day of the function. But this omega in his jeans and a baggy hoodie jacket was too plain to be presumed that he had come from a rich family-especially when he had come by taxi or not in some ostensible car.
“May I have your bar code?” the security man asked.
“Bar code?” Chandra was confused.
“Yes, you cannot enter without a barcode that can identify your ID.”
“Don’t you know me?” Chandra asked.
All the security men misunderstood Chandra as a fraud who would claim that he was some important person to the Singh family.
“Don’t tell us, you are Aryan sahib’s wife?” said another security man playfully.
“Yes.”
The security men laughed. Even though they had not seen their boss’ wife, they had heard what kind of person he was. He was an omega who left his husband and his only son because he was in love with some other alpha. He was an omega with no respect for the poor, as they heard he had slapped a servant. Although there was no concrete confirmation, rumours had a way of circulating among the upper class through their servants.
“Do you have any proof of it?” asked one of them, not giving a hoot to hold his laugh.
Chandra couldn’t help but laugh, showing his perfectly shaped white teeth. He was married to Aryan; however, it was a small wedding that took place in one day in the presence of two families. There were no photos, only bombshell news in the newspaper that Aryan Singh was married to an omega named Chandra.
“Why are you laughing?” asked one of the security men.
Chandra shrugged and wrenched out his phone from the jeans pocket. The display of the phone showed up as he pressed his thumb to unlock it. His fingers clicked on the contact application and pressed the contact number that was saved as Ugly Demon by the original owner. He kept in mind to change it later.
“Who are you calling?” the security guard asked.
“Someone who can prove my identity.” Chandra held his phone to his ear. After a few rings, the call was picked up.
“How should I prove I’m your patni?” Chandra asked. Flowing with a moment, he didn’t brood over how strange it sounded referring to himself as Aryan’s wife. Instead of it he was amused.
There was silence from the other side. The security men were staring at him and thinking was he actually talking to their boss.
“Hello? are you there?” Chandra asked.
“Who do you want to prove?” Aryan asked. His deep voice carried a hint of interest.
“Chowkidar outside of your house. They cannot let me enter unless I have some kind of barcode to prove my identity.”
“Did you bring the wedding card?”
Chandra pursed his lips. “Uh-No.” And he didn’t inform the man that it was burned.
“Wait for a moment.”
Aryan hung up the call, and he glanced back at the security men. “He said to wait for a moment.”
And they waited until before a minute, a phone rang among the security men and they looked at each other and then glanced back at Chandra, as one of them picked up his phone and talked for a while. As he hung up the phone, he looked at his fellow men and his eyes spoke of everything that all the security men understood.
Chandra was taken aback when all the men went down on their knees, bringing their hands together and lowering their heads. “We apologise for not recognising you, please madam, forgive us.”
Chandra felt awkward. Not good. They were older than him, forty and thirty-something. And they were just doing their duty. If the original owner had not burned the wedding invitation, he wouldn’t have had trouble going inside. “You didn’t know me, so that’s fine.”
“Really?” they cocked their heads with surprise.
“Really,” he chuckled. “Now you should get on your feet. And let me go inside.”
All of them stood up.
“Madam, please come with me,” one of them said, taking luggage from his hand. “Thank you,” Chandra smiled softly.
His smile captivated the hearts of the security men and made them believe all the rumours they had heard were nonsense to ruin the reputation of their boss Aryan and his family. No one regarded them with a smile like this before. This omega was down to the earth, despite coming from a high-status family.
As the gate was opened, Chandra followed the man. Either side of concrete pavement trimmed hedges and trees. It led to the entrance of the building.
At the entrance, an old man took the luggage from the security man who left them. The old man said to Chandra in English, “Good afternoon, Madam, I’m Sampath, a head servant here. You may call me Sampath or Sam like everyone.”
Chandra had a strong grip on understanding the English and was able to speak well without an accent despite the fact he’d gotten his education from a Hindi medium school. Because he had watched many English movies and read many novels for his entertainment, he had learned the language automatically.
“Afternoon. I will call you Sampath sahib,” Chandra spoke in Hindi for his comfort.
The old man looked a bit surprised as servants here were called by their names. And Sahib is old-fashioned, and rarely used by youngsters. But usually used by older men.
If Chandra had seen any other old man around Sampath’s age, he would have called him baba, but calling a head servant baba would be out of place.
“So, you are here to take me to meet the family?”
“Nhi. You can meet the family at the dinner. Aryan sir told me to take you to your room, as you must be tired. Please allow me to take you there,” the old man responded to him, changing his language to Hindi.
Chandra followed the man into the entrance hallway where decorating was going on by the decorators for the wedding. Chandra stepped into an elevator with the old man, and he pressed a button on floor twenty-seven. Chandra felt nauseated as the elevator moved up. The elevator came to a stop and its doors opened in the other hallway in a minute.
As Chandra walked out of it, he breathed out in relief. He smiled stiffly at the old man when he looked at him briefly with his appraisal gaze. And the old man unlocked the double door with a card key. Opening the door, he led inside him. It’s a huge, beautiful place with a massive frame of glass walls. It had a living room with a ceiling adorned with a chandelier.
Chandra had barely a flicker of memory at this residence as the original owner had not stepped here in four years. The wealth and immense place made Chandra jump out of his skin with its extravagance. He was a guy from a small town. He’d never stepped out of his state and hardly had been to a few cities. Being here made him feel remote. He didn’t belong here. Yet he was here.
“This is your room,” the old man said. There was also another room beside his room.
“Thank you,” Chandra took the luggage from the man and he asked,
“Where is Shivam?”
“He is in school currently. Would you like to know if he comes?”
Chandra’s eyes sparked. “I would definitely love to know.”
The old man asked, “Anything else, madam?”
Everyone was making him feel weird by calling him madam. That’s not the word used for men in his world, even though it was only used for a married omega in this world. But he was exhausted and hungry to correct the old man.
“I’m starving. May I get something to eat?”
“I will send a server with food. Anything specific you like to eat?”
“Aloo paratha of Bathua and Raita of Bathua and in sweets, bring me Gulab-Jamun.”
“Okay, madam.” And then the old man left.
Chandra went into the room. And he’d no energy to appreciate the view of his luxurious room with a terrace. Leaving his luggage on the floor and tossing his shoes, he threw himself on the soft bed and sprawled. He moaned as the bed felt good as if it was tempting him to sleep. Like a maniac, he had been busy making shoes for three days, barely sleeping or eating. Closing his eyes, he reached for a pillow. And he couldn’t help but drift off while hugging the pillow.
–
A/n; Please vote and let me know how the chapter was?
And if anyone wants to know–
-Lagun function; it is a first wedding function a few days before the actual wedding day. In the Lagun, the bride’s side (guest and family except bride) goes to the groom’s place, where a ritual of tilak is held before the feast. Bride’s all brothers and cousin-brothers apply tilak on the groom’s forehead and after that everyone has a feast.
-Sahib means sir
-Chowkidar means watchmen or watchman.
–Uhn-haan means, okay or yes.
-Beta means dear (but only used by elder people for their children or for the people who they regard as children in their eyes)
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