Chapter 4

Pottermeow

@Pottermeow

Hello once again peeps! I know I've pulled a nice disappearing act on everyone here, and I'm really sowwy for it.... But, but, but! Exams are over, and after a non existent holiday, I'm back to college for my third year!

I hope you enjoy this update as well, because the writing might be a little rocky considering that it's been a while now... And remember! Lambe comments are love! 

Disclaimer: ~3.2k words. Dots like ..... simply indicate a forwards movement of time by a few minutes or so. Just so you're not confused by the part of this update that is written in snippets. No trigger warnings. Look at the end of this post for my discussion points.... 

Why I call Kaka Hasmukh...

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Witnessing. And one degree tilts.

Dev watched as she tore up the heart with his name and Raavi's on it, wanting desperately to stop her, but knowing somewhere deep down that her anger was justified despite being misdirected. She turned around, pink lehenga and her jewels all twirling along with her as she faced him. "No. Absolutely not, Dev", she said, breathing unsteady from rage and her fists clenched tightly together. 

"Aur kyun nahi? Tum kya keh rahi ho tumhe khud kuch samajh main aa rahi hain Rishita?", he asked, waiting for a moment in the hope that she might bother to see sense. But when that didn't happen, he forged forward with his point. "Tum mujhse keh rahi ho ki main apni hi Bhai ki shaadi main naa jaun!!! Uss Bhai ki shaadi jo aaj ho hi rahi hain, tho meri vajah se! Meri galtiyon ki vajah se!" He took in a deep breath, realising that he had ended up shouting at her despite trying not to, and that she'd frozen, her expression far from what he'd expected from the Rishita he knew and loved. 

"Tho tumhe lagta hain ki main ek galti hoon? Is that what this is all about Dev?", she asked him, her voice dangerously calm and truly scaring him for a moment. And Dev felt it then. His whole life, his wrongs and his rights balanced on the edge of a sword sharper than anything his mind would ever be able to come up with. One wrong word, one push too hard, and everything would topple together in a jumbled mess. 

The way he'd just jumbled up two other lives out of his stupid, stupid cowardice. 

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A few hours ago... 

Aapke liye, Mausa pa. Par meri ek shart hain. The words of that chit of a girl echoed in her ears as Suman felt Krish freeze behind her, forgetting to push her forward for a moment. Suman was wise if nothing else, and her wisdom told her to completely ignore the girl's shart. She could marry Shiva as is, or she could happily leave the mandap. Because the chances of her shart hurting her family and their pride was simply too much. After all, she was that Prafulla's bhanji. And she did have good cause for revenge right now. 

Still, her heart stilled her. Of what little Suman had observed of her over the years, the girl had a good heart. One which she was true to, or atleast tried to be true to. She could atleast hear the girl out before judging her, couldn't she? And if it was a worthwhile shart, then why not? Her family had wronged her, after all. She whacked Krish's arm with the danda in her hand, and he rushed to push her wheelchair forward through the still shocked members of her family. 

"Kya shart hain?", she asked, her voice low yet firm, not giving away anything. 

The door creaked open behind her but Suman ignored it, and she watched the girl ignore it as well, choosing to sit up straighter and face her instead. Taking a deep breath, the girl opened her mouth, then closed it again before her eyes darted to look at Jagat. She truly considered him her father, Suman realised. Upon receiving a shaky yet quick nod of approval from her usually indecisive brother, the girl looked back at her. 

"Aap", she started off, before her throat croaked from dryness. She didn't stop though, just cleared her throat and carried on. "Aap sab chahte hain ki aaj hi meri shaadi ho, tho theek hain. Par main iss mandap main shaadi nahi karungi", she said. 

Suman felt a slow anger begin to burn in her, her suspicions of revenge slowly coming back to the forefront. "Kyun?! Kya dikkat hain maharani ko iss mandap se?"

The girl smiled, a smile that knew, but was somehow still soft. "Baat vaise nahi hain jaise aap soch rahe hain Kaki. Main bass apni shaadi uss mandap pe nahi karna chahti jahan maine pheron tak liya hain kisi aur ke saath", she said, her eyes moving across the floors now. 

"Kyun? Teri mann nahi hai iss shaadi main tho abhi bata de.... Aur dusre mandap kahaan dundhe abh sab jaake?", Suman questioned, although her voice was softer now as well. She wouldn't risk her Shiva's life like that, and if the girl wasn't ready then, well, they couldn't blame her, could they? 

"Mann hai ki nahi, shayad mujhe khud nahi bata hain. Par main aapko itna keh sakti hoon Kaaki, ki main agar yeh shaadi kar hi rahi hoon, tho usse poori tarah se apnane ki koshish tho karungi". She got up then, standing tall with her head lifted, yet her eyes somehow just meeting her own. "Bas, main nahi chahti ki issi mandap pe shaadi karke main shaadi jaisi pavitra bandan aur khud ki, donon ki mazaak banau. Usse behtar tho yahi hai na, ki main kisi mandir main chup chaap apni shaadi karaa loon?"

Suman sat there, thinking of the amount of thought this child had put into things, the way she had phrased herself that made it practically impossible to deny her her one wish in this marriage. And then she nodded, slowly. "Theek hain", she said, "pan tu abh yeh mat samaj le ki sasuraal main teri har baat chalegi! Samjhi?", she added on. Suman Pandya had come to take one bahu home today, but was going to go back with two. 

"Meri baat sunne aur samajhne ke liye thank you Kaki. Jab tak koi dusri jagah mil na jaaye main ghar par intezaar karti hoon". Saying so, the girl nodded towards her Jagat, then moved towards the door. Suman turned around, following the girl's still graceful movements only to freeze at the sight of Shiva standing right by the door. He had heard everything, she realised, and Suman felt her heart tremble for a moment, wondering what her hot headed son would do now. But Raavi? That chit of a girl? She stopped for barely a second, gave him a barely there nod with her eyes on his chest, then brushed right past him. 

Well, the girl had guts atleast. Suman Pandya was going home with two bahus this day, and atleast one of them had impressed her a hundred different ways already. 

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She had agreed. 

She had agreed to marry him. 

Him. 

The realisation struck Shiva only as he saw her brush past him on her way out of the bride's room, his eyes following her until she turned the corner and he couldn't see her anymore. He turned back around, only to see Anita standing there and moving from one foot to the other, clearly hesitating to move past him with the way her eyes were still focused on where Raavi had been last visible. 

He moved to the side of the door, finally stepping inside the room, and watched as she nodded at him gratefully before hurrying past him and after her. "Aye Shiva!", he heard his Maa call out to him, and he stepped further inside. "Tu jaake apni aur Raavi ki shaadi ki tayaari kar", she said, and he nodded in agreement before moving out. 

"Aur tu, Bhagodi ki beti?", Maa called out again, and he froze with his back to the door, something about the chill in her voice making him feel wrong down to his bones. " Tu jaake Dev aur uss ladki ki shaadi ki vidhi shuru karne ko bol Pandit ji ko. Aur uss Hasmukh ko bhi Shiva ki madad karne ke liye bech de".

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Shiva stood at the entrance of the mandir, waiting for his family to show up once Dev's wedding was done with. There was no bidaai to be dealt with, anyways, and so Maa was leaving the more informal post wedding rituals like the photos and the first meal as husband and wife in the hands of Hardik bhai. 

The temple had been finalised, the Pandit was busy building the havan kund, the temple caretaker had been informed and was ready to give them an on spot Marriage certificate once the actual rituals were done with, and Kaka was busy gathering the things needed for the havan and the other rituals from the store. So, in other words, Shiva had nothing to do until his family, and Raavi herself, showed up to the temple. 

His mind, idle as it was, drifted, drifted, drifted, until it caught onto a recent memory, the irony of things refusing to escape him. 

He stared at his brother, at Dev, wondering why the idiot simply refused to grow a good sense of humor. He was still colored yellow from his haldi ka rasam. 

"Arey gadhede, jab main tujhse bol raha tha ki voh ladki se door reh, tab kyun chup baitha?", he questioned him, a fire slowly burning in the pit of his stomach. 

"Raavi ko sirf main accha dost manta hoon", Dev replied, but he couldn't meet anyone's eyes, perhaps finally understanding the magnitude of what he was saying. At least, Shiva hoped so. 

"Aye gadhede? Band kar haan apni bakwaas? Tujhe maine pehle se bola tha usse door reh. Yeh jo katte main tune gira haina? Yeh katta tune khud khoda hain. Aur kara Somnath ki sair bike pe, khila ice cream, le taufe. Yeh sab tune khud kiya hain, abh bugat!" No. This wasn't right. Dev could not show Raavi dreams that had stolen years of reality from her, then cruelly break her glass world just like that. His brother was better than that. He had to be better than that. 

"Nahi kar sakta main teri tarah badtameezi, nahin kar sakta main teri tarah bevajah jagde!" Dev shouted, and Shiva felt it pinch him somewhere inside that his own brother thought him to be so rude. Badtameez. "Kisi ladki se pyaar se baat karna, usse respect karna, uske saath ice cream khaana, iska matlab yeh nahi ki main usse pyaar karta hoon!", he continued, and Shiva felt his hurt disappear, masked by that temper in his stomach rising up to his head, consuming him and the little self control he possessed little by little. 

Clapping his hands with as much sarcasm as any wordless gesture could hold, he had responded. "Wah mere shareef zade bhai! Maine uske saath badtameezi ki, usse gaaliyan di, yeh tujhe dikha? Tujhe baar baar bolta raha ki usse door reh, usse badhaava mat de, pan tune meri baat nahi suni Dev". He still remembered how she had almost let a truck run right over her, the grin on her face when Dev had taken tomatoes and onions to keep her safe from harm. From him. 

"Haan? Uske bachpani aur naadani ko na? Tune badhaava diya hain! Iska gawaah main hoon! Tujhe baar baar bolta raha ki door rakh usko. Voh teri gareeb aati rahi, aur tune usse gareeb, aane diya! Abh bugat aur kar Raavi se shaadi. Tu na...!" And he stopped. Because his brother's face was blank, his eyes bracing as if for some collision to happen. Perhaps he was speaking the truth, but perhaps Dev did not need to hear the truth now. Gaumbi placed a hand on his shoulder then, pulling him back and moving toward Dev himself, and Shiva let him. Gaumbi would take care of things, like always. And Shiva would stand by him no matter what, like always. 

Iska gawaah main hoon! 

His own words echoed in his ears, and he realised just how true it was. He was the witness to her heights, to how she had flown in the skies of her own making. 

He was the witness to her fall. To her spectacular fall that had nearly broken something, something, in him and almost made him wish he could fall too. 

He only wished now, that he would be the witness to her rise once more. To see her gather her broken parts and heal and  then one day, some day, open her wings and fly once more. If nothing, he wanted that from this marriage, he realised. He deserved that much. And so did she. 

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Shiva watches from where he stands amongst his family as Anita hurries Raavi along towards where they are all gathered by the hurriedly constructed mandap. It was a thing of simplicity, really. Only the havan kund and a few place mats around it, but it would do the job. 

He looks towards her, only to feel as if he was watching a child lost in a mela searching for her mother. Eyes wide, glancing all around, one hand clutching tightly to her sister-in-all-but-name's, letting Anita lead her wherever she pleased because that was just how much she trusted her. 

And then her head turns, eyes snagging his own, and her eyes widen further before her face closes itself off. The kind of strength in her eyes that he had only ever seen in them when they were fighting over the most nonsensical of things shining bright like a beacon today. No one could call her a child, then. 

........... 

He lifts the maala of white flowers and tinsel that he'd brought himself from one of the small shops outside the temple. Her head is still lowered, eyes staring at the ground, when he places it on her neck. She lifts her arms then, before she stops, and he wonders if she would stop this wedding. All of this. 

But then she lifts her head up and all he can see is her face framed by flowers, devoid of all the make up that had smudged that morning, yet still somehow glowing in the light of the sun from behind him. Her eyes meet his, and they are searching. For what, he does not know though. And then she finds it, because she stops searching, instead lifting the maala further and placing it on his neck. He feels the weight of a thousand worlds both settle on and lift off of him all at once.

........... 

He watches her watch her Mausa pa, his Mama ji, as he performs her Kanyadaan with Mami by his side. He feels the softness of her skin hover over the  roughness of his own, and he wonders if she felt it too. Probably not. 

And then water is pouring over their hands from a kalash, and Mama ji is placing a hand over her head, a shaky smile and teary eyes the only consolation he can give her right then. And he feels her hand settle over his, and he knows she feels it too, then. 

..........

He stands up for the pheras, turning around only to see her still seated, and he holds out a hand, open and palm facing upwards. But then Anita is helping her up and his hand is left hanging there. Unseen. So he pulls it back slowly and turns to take the first step of their first phera. 

Her hand reaches out then, clutching onto the edge of his sleeve, and he realises he was seen. He half turns to look at her, but she's looking down at the floor, or perhaps at their ghat bandhan, but he can't be sure about it. She doesn't let go until the last step of their last phera. 

........... 

He picks the mangalsutra up from the plate Dhara bhabhi holds out to him, and the way the light glints off of it reminds him of the way her motiyon ke haar had shone in the bright sunlight that morning. And then he remembers how he had pulled at that haar, letting those pearls scatter and fall where they may and for a moment he freezes, wondering what on  Earth he is doing. Is this where the pearls have chosen to fall? Or is he making a mistake? 

And then she looks up, her eye meeting his, and beyond the strength she shows he sees the lost child he'd seen in her earlier today, and he doesn't want to leave her alone and lost so he clasps the mangalsutra around her neck. Anita adjusts it, trying to make the stones sit right at the centre of her neck, and she looks down at the black beads on her cream skin. The light glints off the stones again. 

............ 

The red of the sindoor reminds him of the red of her lehenga in a brighter light as he gathers it with the silver coin in the dibbi. He's bringing his hand towards her forehead, and then her hand is moving towards his. She staggers backwards, her eyes fluttering almost close, and her face is colored red by the time Anita and Dhara bhabhi are able to hold her straight again. It takes him a moment to realise that it's sindoor. From his hand. It's done. They're married, he  realises, and he stands in there in shock because he doesn't feel like it. The axis changing earthquake he'd expected had not come, instead he feels like himself, yet not. Like his axis hasn't moved by the one eighty he'd been waiting for but by a paltry one degree. And suddenly one isn't an insignificant number anymore. 

He hears Kanta Kaki talking from behind him, "Kehte hain ki agar sindoor lagate vakt dulhan ki naak par gir gayi, tho pati patni se bohot pyaar karega!" His eyes look over her face, at the sindoor that  covers her nose, her cheeks, nearly the entirety of her forehead. Kaki's bahu asks her the question that rises in his own mind, "Par yahaan tho sindoor dulhan ki pure chehre par gir gayi na? Tho iska kya matlab?" Then she answers herself, "Shiva Raavi se bohot se bohot zyada pyaar karega kya?", and titters away at what must seem a bit of good wit to her. 

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Dev rushes in to the temple, one hand clasping Rishita's so that he wouldn't lose her in the crowd. They'd gotten stuck in traffic, and with the time he'd spent convincing her to come with him in the first place, he only hoped that they could make it before the wedding was completely over with. 

They turned one last corner, with Rishita saying something about who conducted weddings in such crowded places that he turned a deaf ear to, and he came to a stop as he saw his family gathered there. Shiva and Raavi straightened from where they had bent to  take his Man's blessings, and the sindoor on Raavi's face told him all he needed to know. 

He moved closer, and he heard his Maa asking them to be happy, to give each other the saath that they needed in life, to be patient. And all he could remember was the way her hand had barely touched his head, the cold Jeeti raho she had uttered before leaving for Shiva's wedding.

"Congratulations Raavi, Shiva", he said, and watched as Raavi's eyes widened, her grip on Shiva's sleeve tightening as his family turned to see him. Their eyes moved from him to his hand. The one still holding onto Rishita, he realised, and he looked at her only to see her glaring at everyone, her head held high with pride and anger. 

He looked back at his family, and they  all looked back, indifferent, except for three pairs of  eyes. Raavi, who had now turned away from him to look at the floor, Dhara bhabhi, who looked at him with regret, perhaps the only one to truly understand that he had missed his brother's wedding. His own little brother's wedding. And Shiva, who was glaring at him. If looks could kill, Dev would be in heaven by now. 

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Author's Note: Hello again! First up, Dev! I've always wished that PS would explore Dev better, always thought that his character is one that could hold much more depth than it actually has fairly effortlessly... But, the reason I chose to explore him with this update, is because guilt is a very intriguing emotion for me. One of the only ones I've found myself struggling to cope with ever. And I wondered how it must be to not even be able to say that what's done is done. Because it isn't over yet, is it? 

Other than that, the one thing I decided to do consciously was to write the whole wedding from Shiva's POV. Call me a traditionalist for it, but I've always been bothered by how Raavi, right up to the moment Devshita's wedding ends and the sindoor falls on her own face, keeps looking at him longingly. Interestingly, this same thing happens in the OG as well, something I wasn't expecting when I watched it before writing this. 

And I understand, I truly do. There's no love lost between Shiva and her, and it's very hard to not hope. Which is why my shart is what it is. A change in location. A show of faith in her new relationship. A slightly more self aware Raavi. And a Shiva who doesn't feel as much of a forced option as he does in thr show. 

Again! Reviews, positive or constructively criticising, will be much appreciated! And so will prompts or ideas of any sort....