Tera Mera Saath Rahe ~ Gosham, Mithila FF ~ Chapter 16 pg 7 - Page 7

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Chapter 15 (The Mandap of Truth)

The Wedding Day – A Morning Full of Omens

The Modi mansion was bathed in festive light—yellow marigolds draped across pillars, the scent of roses and sandalwood lingering in the air. A red carpet led to the grand mandap built in the garden, where Saksham and Ashi were to be wed under a canopy of jasmine.

Drummers played loudly. Guests arrived in bright silks. Ramila beamed with pride. Minal fussed over every detail. Ashi, dressed in crimson and gold, was glowing—or trying to.

But Gopika?

Gopika stood like a shadow on the margins of the celebration. Her green saree was plain compared to the others, but her beauty stood undiminished. A quiet storm brewed in her chest.

She hadn’t told Saksham.
She couldn’t.
Her secret—the child growing inside her—was not just hers anymore. It belonged to both of them.

But the rituals waited for no one.

Arrival of the Groom – Saksham’s Torn Heart

Saksham entered, dressed in cream and gold sherwani, a sehra hiding most of his face. But his heart beat in utter chaos. His mind screamed questions he couldn’t answer.

He looked around—subconsciously searching for Gopika. And when he found her, standing silently near the staircase, something inside him cracked.

His mother touched his arm.
“It’s time,” she said with a warm smile.

But Saksham’s feet felt like they were moving toward a fate he didn’t choose.

Varmala – The Garlands that Chose Themselves

At the mandap, the varmala ceremony began.

Ashi stood opposite Saksham, smiling as her friends hoisted her up playfully, teasing him. He smiled back, doing the same.

But just as they prepared to exchange the garlands, a sudden gust of wind—unexpected and strong—swept through the mandap.

The flowers on Ashi’s garland fell apart mid-air, scattering to the ground.

There was a stunned silence. Gopika instinctively stepped forward from the crowd to pick the scattered petals, but Saksham stopped her with his gaze.

“No,” he said aloud.

Everyone turned to look.

He bent down himself, picked the flowers—and his eyes met Gopika’s as he stood.

Mithila whispered to Minal, “This is not just coincidence anymore.”

Saat Pheras – The Fire that Favoured One

The sacred fire was lit. Panditji chanted the mantras. Saksham and Ashi stood side by side, ready to take the seven vows of marriage.

As they began to walk, the fire sputtered.

On the fourth phera, a stray spark jumped out and caught the edge of Ashi’s dupatta.

She screamed.

In the confusion, Gopika rushed forward, pulling the dupatta off Ashi’s shoulders and stamping out the flame.

Saksham’s eyes never left Gopika.

“She knew exactly what to do,” someone murmured.

Ramila scowled. Ashi was furious. But the ceremony was paused. The pandit hesitated.

“Such a moment is considered inauspicious,” he warned.

Saksham finally spoke.

“Then let us stop pretending this is auspicious.”

Gasps echoed.

Before anyone could process Saksham’s bold words, a low murmur rose among the guests. Whispers turned into questions. Ramila tried to salvage the moment.

“He’s just overwhelmed. Continue, Panditji!” she snapped.

But fate had other plans.

Gopika Faints – A Sudden Collapse

As the crowd turned back to the havan kund, a sharp gasp rippled from the side.

Gopika clutched her stomach, her face pale as wax. Her knees buckled.

“Gopika!” Saksham rushed forward, catching her before she hit the ground. His sehra slipped off, revealing his troubled face.

“Somebody call a doctor!” Baa cried out in panic.

From among the guests, a woman in a beige silk saree stepped forward.
“I’m a doctor,” she said, kneeling beside Gopika. “Let me check.”

The mandap fell into stunned silence. The sacred fire still flickered, but its warmth was drowned by the icy weight of tension as the doctor examined her pulse and pressed gently on her wrist.

After a few tense moments, the doctor looked up, stunned.
“She’s pregnant. And severely dehydrated.”

A collective gasp rang out like thunder.

Shock and Scandal – Society’s Harsh Tongue

Minal staggered back in disbelief. Baa looked as though life had drained from her. Ramila’s mouth hung open. Ashi’s expression twisted with rage.

“She… she’s what?” Ramila croaked.
“She’s pregnant?” echoed a voice from the crowd.

A woman near the back scoffed, “That girl isn’t even married.”
Another hissed, “And whose child is it? Shameful!”

The judgment fell heavy like stones. Whispers turned venomous while Gopika lay unconscious in Saksham’s arms — fragile, pale, unaware of the storm around her.

“A child?” someone repeated in a shrill whisper.
A woman in a green sari clucked her tongue. “Unmarried and already carrying… disgraceful.”
Another sneered, “Does she even know who the father is?”

The murmurs grew harsher, sharper, cruel. The same society that once praised Gopika’s humility now spat daggers at her silence.

And still, Gopika did not stir.

But Saksham did.

His arms tightened protectively around her. His jaw clenched as the voices grew uglier. His heart pounded so hard it hurt — but his mind had gone utterly still.

Because he remembered.

The Night Kanha Witnessed – Recalled

The soft pitter-patter of rain… the way her breath trembled against his chest… the warmth of her body, wrapped in his arms… the sacredness of their silences… her whispered surrender…

That night wasn’t a mistake.

It was love. Deep. Reverent. Sacred.

They hadn’t spoken of it afterward — the weight of the world and misunderstandings had pulled them apart too quickly. But he remembered everything.

Her lips.
Her trust.
Her tears.
The way her hands clutched him, not out of fear, but faith.

And now… the answer was here. The child… was his.

Saksham Speaks – Truth Like Fire

“Enough!” he roared suddenly, his voice like thunder, making even the pandit flinch.

The crowd fell quiet.

Saksham looked around, face red with fury, but his voice was steady.

“The child… is mine.”

A hush.

Ramila’s face drained of color. Minal stumbled back as if struck. Baa closed her eyes.

Ashi stood, mouth agape. “What?!”

Saksham adjusted his hold on Gopika and faced the mandap. “This isn’t some lie to stop the wedding. This… is the truth. Gopika is carrying my child.”

Ramila stormed forward. “You slept with your fiancée’s sister?! What kind of man are you?!”

Ashi joined in, seething. “How long has this been going on?! Did you do it behind my back? Behind the family’s back? Behind my back, Gopika?!”

Gopika groaned faintly but didn’t wake.

Saksham’s voice remained unshaken. “We didn’t plan this. It happened before she even knew I was your fiancé. We didn’t betray anyone. Not then.”

“She knew! She must’ve known!” Ramila accused, her finger jabbing toward Gopika’s limp form. “She trapped you! She trapped this whole house!”

“No,” Saksham replied, eyes burning now. “She didn’t trap anyone. That night… she was scared. She trusted me. And she didn’t say a word after. She hid everything—to protect me, to protect you.”

Ashi clenched her fists. “So what, Saksham? You’re going to leave me at the mandap and marry her now? After all this?!”

“I never belonged here,” he said softly. “Not in this mandap. Not beside you. The signs, the fire, the truth… I should’ve seen it sooner.”

The guests stirred uneasily.
“Now he claims her? Convenient.”
“She was always beneath them.”
“She should be cast out.”

Minal finally found her voice, trembling. “Saksham… do you even understand what you’ve said? This isn’t just about love anymore. This is honor, family, reputation… everything.”

Her eyes brimmed as she looked at him — part fear, part hurt, part a mother’s helplessness. “You’re tearing this family apart with one truth. How will we face the world now?”

Her words hung heavy.

But before anyone could answer, a sharp voice cut through the chaos.

“Bas!”

All heads turned. From behind the velvet drapes near the back, a figure stepped forward — regal, stern, composed.

Mithila Modi.

Mithila’s bgm plays in the background.

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To be continued.

Chapter 16 (The Mandap Restored)

Mithila’s Judgment

“Bas!”

The word cracked through the mandap like thunder. Mithila Modi stepped forward, regal and composed, her eyes sharp as blades. Draped in deep maroon silk, every step carried the authority of someone who had built this house on discipline and pride.

“I have heard enough,” she said, her voice steady and measured, each syllable ringing with finality. “This is not a marketplace for idle gossip. You were invited as guests, not as vultures. Whatever truth lies here will be decided by this family — not by whispers and shameful speculation.”

The guests lowered their eyes. The buzzing hush dissolved into silence. Even the flames of the havan seemed to shrink beneath her authority.

She turned her gaze to Saksham.

“My son,” she said, disbelief lacing her tone. “You — in front of all, you have claimed this child as yours. Do you understand the weight of what you have said? Do you even know what storm you have invited upon this family?”

Her words struck like a hammer. The silence afterward was heavier than the gasp of the crowd had been.

Her eyes shifted to the unconscious figure in Saksham’s arms, brows knitted.

“And this girl…” she said, sharp and curious. “Who is she to you? What is her place in this house? I do not know her — and yet today, she has brought this family to the brink of ruin.”

Her gaze swept between Saksham and Gopika.

Before she could speak, Mithila’s gaze sharpened, cutting through hesitation like a blade.

“I demand answers. Clear answers. No riddles, no silence. Before this sacred fire, before this family, and before me — the truth will be spoken.”

The mandap suffocated under her authority. Gopika’s heartbeat thundered as she stood frozen, hand in Saksham’s, mind reeling with disbelief and tension.

Mithila’s next steps were deliberate. She raised her chin, scanning the guests who had been quick to shame Gopika.

“You,” she said, turning to the assembly, “who hide behind judgment and gossip — you have no right to shame this girl while excusing the son of this house. Every whisper of dishonor directed at her falls upon you, not her.”

Then she faced Saksham and Gopika. “Saksham, speak the truth of your heart. Gopika, speak your truth. Let dignity, not fear, guide your words.”

Her eyes flicked to Minal and Keshav. “This mandap is not broken. It is corrected. Today, the wrong girl sat beside Saksham. But Kanha himself has shown us who belongs here.”

Without hesitation, Mithila took Gopika’s hand and placed it into Saksham’s palm — a gesture simple yet profound, recognizing divine alignment, not preference. Gopika searched Mithila’s eyes for recognition, but found none. This was the real Mithila — justice incarnate.

The hall remained silent. Slowly, guests began to nod, accepting the correction and the restored balance. Gopika squeezed Saksham’s hand, a spark of courage igniting within her. Under Mithila’s gaze, the mandap bore witness to a simple truth: dignity and divine will would guide the day, not shame or rumor.

Ramila and Aashi’s Outburst

The silence shattered.

“This is outrageous!” Ramila’s hands flew into the air, face flushed. “How dare this girl—this outsider—trap this family? How dare she sit here as if she belongs?”

Aashi’s voice dripped with venom. “Yes! Who is she to take what is ours? Saksham belongs to this house, not to some nobody! You’ll never be accepted here, Gopika. Never!”

The crowd murmured nervously, shifting under the tension.

Mithila’s eyes narrowed, her authority tightening the air. She did not flinch, yet when she spoke, her words cut sharper than any scream.

“Listen carefully,” she said, locking onto Ramila and Aashi, and through them, the murmuring guests. “Dharma is not measured by wealth or lineage. Love is not claimed through greed. Truth is not decided by deception. You may rage, but it will not change the facts. This girl has done nothing to harm you, yet your own hearts project the shame you refuse to see.”

“This house,” she continued, turning to the crowd, “stands for honor, respect, and righteousness. And if that honor is to be maintained, it must be defended against lies, not the innocent. Gopika does not need your approval. She needs courage — and that courage has restored this mandap today.”

Aashi paled, her venom failing. Ramila opened her mouth, but no words came. With a final glare, Aashi spun on her heel and stormed toward the doors, skirts rustling. Ramila followed, dragging her along. The hall seemed to exhale, tension lifting slightly.

Mithila’s gaze returned to the couple. “Let this be a lesson. Only truth, courage, and dharma endure — and Kanha has shown the way.”

Guests remained hushed, some ashamed, some reflective, a few inspired. Gopika felt quiet relief. Saksham seemed steadier, as though a weight had lifted. Mithila nodded, stepping back. The mandap, once threatened by chaos, now shimmered with order restored — sacred and aligned with truth.

Guests, Blessings, and Rituals

Even after Aashi and Ramila left, whispers lingered. Some guests openly shook their heads. Before Mithila could intervene, a steady voice cut through the hall.

“Enough.”

All eyes turned to Janaki Baa, rising slowly, her presence calm yet commanding.

“If Kanha accepts her,” she said, “who are we to reject her? This girl stands here because the divine has chosen her. And if the divine has spoken, who are we to argue?”

A hush fell. Janaki Baa moved to Gopika, wiping away her tears with gentle hands. “You are blessed today. May your courage and dignity guide you always.”

She turned to Saksham. “Hold her with respect and love. Let no one’s doubt shake what has been ordained.”

The air shifted. Whispers faded into nods and tentative smiles. The hall, once tense, pulsed with anticipation.

The wedding continued — this time with Gopika as the bride. Saksham tied the mangalsutra around her neck, each knot a promise. He filled her maang with sindoor, sealing their union with love and dharma.

Mithila and Janaki Baa guided the rituals. Minal and Keshav, torn between old loyalties and newfound truths, stepped forward hesitantly, finally offering genuine blessings.

The mandap, once clouded with gossip and discord, now shone as a sanctuary of truth, courage, and divine will. Gopika and Saksham exchanged glances, understanding they had crossed trials of doubt and envy, emerging united in love and resilience.

As the rituals concluded, flowers rained down, blessings poured from elders, and the hall filled with tentative joy. Yet beneath the celebration lingered the truth: some hearts would take longer to accept, some grudges would remain.

Still, Gopika felt calm resolve. Whatever the future held, she had claimed her place with courage, dignity, and the support of those who mattered.

The mandap, once clouded by whispers and discord, now stood as a testament to what endures when courage meets destiny. Gopika and Saksham stood united, hands clasped, eyes meeting in quiet understanding, ready to step into a life defined not by judgment, but by truth, respect, and divine blessings.

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To be continued.

The varmala exchange never happened but they went forward anyway. Too many signs to be ignored.

Did Ramila and Ashi already have a clue about the child's father when they heard? Why else would they be so upset about it?

All those women were wagging their tongues, spitting poison at Gopika. But then the unexpected and shocking announcement from Saksham.

Mithila is here. Just the person we need. She will speak for the ones who can not.

The balance was restored. The right bride chosen. But some will keep on whispering and lamenting for some time yet. But who cares about them?