I Am His Bride… { An Indian Bl Saga } Reception…

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

So, I feel like I have ignored this story for far too long. Actually, I am a bit tired to write the whole lot of those rituals taking place during the day, so time skip to the afternoon. Sorry for the delay.

DIVYANSH:

The day passed in a jiffy as I brooded over the misfortune this family was going to suffer for me. Everyone, well except Ashwin accepted me into the family with open arms as they believed I was a woman and the first woman of the new generation. Guilt overwhelmed me quite a few times during the day but I somehow managed to keep my tears at bay.

Arthit cornered me during the afternoon when everyone was busy in their own tasks. I was afraid for a moment that I had blown my cover but he said, “Bhabi, I understand that you feel like an outsider. Well, it will go away with time. But please smile a bit, na. Ash is brooding too.” I mustered up some courage and asked, “Does he really hate me that much? He never acknowledged my existence.” Well, it hurts when a hot guy doesn’t pay you attention. Hell, what was happening to me! I didn’t even know that my husband was gay or not.

My little dewar scratched the back of his throat as he said, “Actually it was Ash’s dream to be a painter and now he has been forced in a marriage alliance. That is the reason. Don’t you worry. He will come around.” I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Well, he and I were at the same page, both forced into this unwanted marriage. Arthit cleared his throat and motioned me over to the living room. He took a seat on the couch and asked me to do the same. I sat on another one as he spoke, “Well bari ma wanted me to give you a gist of the rules to be followed in this household.” I paled at the mention of rules. I was not very good with them as they always suffocated me. He seemed to sense my displeasure as he hurried, “No, no, don’t be afraid. It’s just a general set of rules for everybody. And a little sneak peek information, you won’t have to follow them for very long as you and Bhaiya will soon be moving out to a condo of your own.”

I let out a breath as he brought out a diary form his pocket. I looked at it skeptically. He smiled meekly, “She made me write everything down, so that I couldn’t add anything funny of my own. Well let’s get to work.

Rule 1: Inform any member of the house if you are going out. You don’t need to be very specific but you must carry your phone, so that we can contact in case of an emergency.

Rule 2: No staying out late at night. Curfew is at 10 p.m. It doesn’t matter what you are doing but you must be home by 10. If there is some emergency, call me.

Rule 3: You can ask me or Ashwin if you need anything.

Rule 4: Family dinners are to be attended regularly. If there is any issue, that is to be informed during the day.

Rule 5: Harmless pranking is allowed.

Rule 6: Don’t lie about anything.

Now, the women’s only rules start.

Rule 7: You don’t need to get up very early. 7 a.m. is enough. After freshening up, you must visit the thakur ghar before coming to the dining hall for breakfast.

Rule 8: You must always wear saree.

Rule 9: Never remove Sankha, Pola, Loha and sindoor.

Rule 10: Do everything you can to keep my son happy.

Well, that’s the end of the list”, Arthit declared proudly before giving me a grin.

The rules were easy to follow, except the no. 8 and 9. I still had a poor pennyworth in wearing saree as it confused me as hell and all these bangles around my hands were causing more discomfort than not.

As if on cue to not let me mull over my discomfort, my mother-in-law dragged me upstairs to get me ready for the reception. A few long hours of being dragged and pulled to get my saree, hair, jewelry and makeup perfect, they finally let me sit down to rest for a bit. My heart was jack hammering in my chest. Today was the day that this innocent family will be forced to sign the treaty.

A part of me blamed my father. But a much larger part blamed myself. They were the ones to trust me in a long time and here I was, preparing to betray them with my lies and defies. Another part of me was afraid. We would have the fulshajya tonight.

Ashwin Ahuja was sure to find out how I had cheated him and his whole family. Could I live with such a blame? It was for sure that I would have no home here anymore, but would my father let me live in his house or deny my existence as I would have come to light – the biggest scandal as the secret child of the CEO of Malhotra Textiles comes to light.

A hand on my shoulder drew me out of my thoughts. It was Arthit who had been sent to bring me in to the function. I followed lead. My family was already present. I could recognize familiar fake smiles on the faces of my parents. The rest of the night passed in a blur in getting introduced to people and greeting them.

I was led to our – actually Ashwin’s – room as everybody encouraged us for the first night. But to be truthful, I was afraid. I was terrified of the predicament that awaited me. An agonizing quarter of an hour passed as I distractedly appreciated the roses that decorated nearly every nook and corner of the room. Ashwin entered the room with a grimace on his face. Behind him, was Mrs. Ahuja. As my husband entered the bathroom, she approached me, a bowl of milk in hand, “Beti, hamare yahaan woh ritual hain. Agar tum ise follow karne mein uncomfortable feel karti ho, toh tumhe koi bhi force nahi karega. It’s your wish.”

(Daughter, we follow that ritual. If you are uncomfortable, you don’t need to do it. It is your free wish.)

She left the room keeping the bowl on the nightstand. Now, it was my turn to take a decision. Do I really want to degrade myself by following that fucking ritual? My conscience decided on doing it. This family had showed me more love than my parents ever had, I could do this for them. I released my hair from the bun it had been forced into. Taking a deep breath, I squeezed myself out of the heavy jewelries I had been wearing. Before I could finish, I heard the shower going off and my dearest husband – note the sarcasm – entered the room with a towel hanging low on his hips. Well, my attention forced itself onto his washboard abs for a second before I tore my gaze away. He was unfazed as he walked into his closet to get dressed as he called out, “You can freshen yourself up if you want.” I broke out of my stupor and entered the bathroom with a change of clothes I had already gathered. When I exited, I saw him taking pillows to his couch. A sliver of hope appeared – maybe he won’t blow away my cover tonight, maybe I will get a chance to soften the shock.

He noticed that I had entered back into the room as he said, “You can take the couch. I will be frank; I don’t want a stranger in my bed.” He was about to retire for the night but I asked, “Can you spare me a minute? One more ritual is left to be done.” He groaned, “Oh my fucking gods. It was in my fate to get trapped with a religious woman!” But nonetheless he got up from the bed and walked to me. Taking the bowl of milk from the nightstand, I knelt by his feet. He was literally scared, “Hey, what are you doing?” “Please, keep still. I don’t to wake everyone”, I begged. He calmed down ever so slightly as I continued on. Dipping the ends of my hair in the milk, I wiped them over his feet. He shuddered but kept quiet. After I had finished, I touched his feet to take his blessings. Returning the leftover milk to the nightstand to be thrown away the next day, I was proceeding to retire for the night. I couldn’t even sit on the couch before I was shoved into the bathroom. “I don’t want my couch and pillows to be dirty. Ants terrify me”, Ashwin shrugged. I let out a low laugh and washed my hair ends once more.

The lights were already off when I entered the room once more. I could see the dim silhouette of my husband on my bed in the slight glow of the moonlight entering through the widow. I let out a soft sigh as I took the couch, letting sleep claim me.

GLOSSARY:

Bari ma: Some call their elder aunts in this way as Indians have deeply engraved family values and elder aunt is comparable to mother.

Thakur ghar: It is the room of the house that is holy as the pictures or idols of the gods are kept there. After bathing, people worship the gods there before continuing on their daily time table.

Fulsajya: It is the night of consummation of the marriage or the first night. Well, it is expected that both the groom and bride are virgins, so there are rituals to make the night holy and memorable.

And at last, but not the least, there actually exists a ritual that I mentioned. I hate it as the girls are treated like dirt but what can I do? 

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

I wish all my readers a very happy holi. I am not giving up on this story but its updates will be very irregular as I need to do a hell lot of research for these rituals. Don’t worry! Still some rituals are left which will form a crucial turning point of the story. And yes, I am giving hints of a plot twist to come. 

Please read, vote, share and comment.

Until next time. Hope to upload soon.