Situation: Angad is doing his best to make amends, but Sahiba is adamant.
Titles inspired by:
Zara si dil mein de jagah tu
Zara sa apna le bana
Zara sa khawbon mein saja tu
Zara sa yaadhon mein basa
She talks , smiles and laughs with everyone. She’s like the sugar that you mix in milk, just becoming part of the milk in a lovely homogeneous way.
Right now, this morning, she was doing some mud and mirror work in the garden. These were creations to decorate the paath room once again. The family had decided to hold a dastar bandhi for Nikki. So, Sahiba had been tasked to recreate the same feeling of peace and tranquility but to take it up a notch as she had ample time. She had tied a handkerchief to prevent her loose curls from falling. She had clay over her forehead, as she wiped the perspiration from her face. My heart itched to wipe that clay from her luminous face. That clay was luckier than I, at least it could touch her. I, being her lawful husband, was denied by her any husbandly rights. She didn’t even stay in the same room as me. She was happy being in the store room by herself. However, I could not protest. The things she had endured because of her family and in turn me would make anyone apprehensive and cautious I guess.
Daarji, Bebe and Veer were already fans of her. Now Hansraj Phupha, Prabjyot Phua, Jaspal Chachu, Gurleen Chachi and Ekam had also joined her fan club. The only ones who refrained were the Baweja branch of the family and my mom, Manveer. Me you might ask, well I was a secret admirer of hers, but she never cared for me.
She suddenly looked up, and I hid behind the curtains. I knew if she’d see me, her smile would vanish. I already had given her so many tears; the least I could do was not upset her more.
She was an odd girl at times, with no interest in clothes and jewelry. The day after the reception, she had come to Mom and returned all the jewelry and the bridal dress. She was just immersed in her art. She was an aestheticist. Anything she’d touch, she’d turn it more beautiful. Be it clothing, home decor, or even food.
I remembered when she cooked food for the first time. She had agreed only to rituals as a bahu, not as a wife. Any ritual involving me, she flatly refused. Her first rasoi, gajar halwa, matar paneer sabzi with plain spinach parathe, raita along with a desi take on coleslaw salad was absolutely healthy and delicious. I had ended up eating an additional serving until the house help told me the food was made by Sahiba. At that point, to sustain my ego, I had to stop. I still remember Bebe smirking slyly, as she caught my dilemma.
Few Days Later
These past few days, Sahiba had been busy decorating the paath room for the dastar bandhi ceremony. No one was allowed in. This meant she was away from everyone’s eyes. It was hard not seeing her. I decided to come up with an excuse to visit her room.
I had tried to talk to her before as well, yet she’d never even bother to look at me. She’d give her curt reply and disengage. A day before the dastar bandhi, I had tried to gift her new clothes, and jewelry but she returned them back saying she had no use for it, “Listen Angad Singh Brar, I do not need anything from you even if you were the last person on earth. Get the misconception out of your head that I want anything to do with you. I want nothing from you. Mujhse dur raho.”
I looked downcast as she spoke these words, and had nothing to refute.
She continued, “Bura laga, toh MY FOOT. Yeh gidgit jaise rang badalna band karo, Iska asar mere par nahin hone wala. Mujhse dur raho. Mujhe pareshaan karne ki koshish bhi nahin karna. Main tumhari parchhai se bhi dur rehna chahti hoon. Bhale hi hum phere lekar bandh gaye hain, par saat janam main bhi main tumhein pati nahin maanoongi. So, yeh saare bahane band karo, koi fayada nahin hona. Aur agli baar, mera haath pakadne ki koshish bhi na karna.”
Manveer, my mom along with Gurleen Chachi had been listening to our conversation. Sahiba’s rebuking reminded Mom of the roka day as well. She had teary eyes, but having been the eldest Brar bahu of her generation, she kept her steely resolve.
I grabbed Sahiba’s hand and then she turned away from me with her back facing me. She was in pain from my grip no doubt. Gurleen Chachi had just stepped in the room, and was shocked by the sight.
Chachi pulled me away from Sahiba, and ordered me to go to my room. She was stern and asked, “Is this the behavior you would expect for Kiara and Ekam as well when they get married? Angad how could you?” She pulled a distressed Sahiba into her arms.
It had definitely stung but it was expected the way I had kept humiliating her. I placed the jewelry and clothes in Mom’s hands, and walked away before anyone could see the tears brimming my eyes.
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