I've always been a fan of the talented writers of this forum, going as far as making an account only to access the 'members only' posts and stories. But there is an acute shortage of stories on Drikshit, which pushed me to try my hand at writing something. This is my first post on this forum, and my first ever attempt at writing something. Do let me know how you find it.
“Di!”
“Bhabhi!”
Hearing Divya and Shikhar shout, Rakshit leaped out of bed and thundered downstairs, his family in tow. Drishti was lying unconscious on her sister's lap, as the latter desperately tried to revive her. A deep gash on her forehead was prominent, and her dress was torn at several places.
Swearing profanities that earned him disdainful stares and gasps of horror from his family, Rakshit strode forward and sank on his knees next to a distraught Divya. He gently cupped his wife's face, trying to shake her into consciousness. Instructing Shikhar to call for the family doctor, he lifted her up and carried her inside, trailed by a tearful Divya and his worried family members.
The doctor dressed her wounds and assured the family that Drishti would be fine. Rakshit was only half listening as he stared at his unconscious wife. Her injuries had a prominent magical signature; this was no ordinary accident or another instance of Mrs Shergill being her careless self. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Divya sitting at the edge of the bed,holding her elder sisters hand and pleading with her to open her eyes. He sighed and closed his eyes, praying for Lord Shiva to watch over his wife and heal her.
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Mahima Shergill did not approve of Drishti in the slightest. She was not fit to be her son’s wife; neither her social status nor her values aligned with her family. Disappearing from family functions, strange and inconsistent answers when asked about her whereabouts and no effort whatsoever to connect with her family. From what she knew, her son did not get along fabulously with her either. She was not a part of the family as far as Mahima was concerned,and the latter had left no stone unturned to show or tell Drishti exactly what she thought of her.
But now she stared at her son whose worried gaze was fixed solely on his wife. She could feel the palpable worry and concern for his Mrs Shergill rolling off him in waves. She saw her family rallying around to make Drishti comfortable, and comfort a sobbing Divya, assuring her that her elder sister would be just fine. And for the first time, she wondered if she had made an error in judging the girl who was now her daughter in law.
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Drishti blinked wearily, the bright light almost blinding her. Struggling to open her eyes, she saw a silhouette of what looked like her younger sister leaning over her. Hearing the hushed voices of the other family members, she attempted to get up, but a searing pain shot through her forehead that nearly made her lose consciousness again.
Divya saw her Di gaining consciousness and screamed in happiness, deafening everyone in the room and frightening the life out of Drishti, who sat up bolt upright and almost fainted again due to the immense pain that burst through her forehead. After making sure she was indeed fine, Divya proceeded to squeeze the life out of her elder sister, pulling back only when Drishti winced with pain. The other family members crowded round the bed, and Drishti had to assure everyone multiple times that she was indeed fine now.
But Mahima’s attention was drawn to her son’s reaction. A myriad of expressions had crossed his face when his wife had awakened, relief being the most prominent. As she assured everyone that she was indeed fine, Drishti’s gaze had gone over their heads to meet her husband’s eye. A quick nod and a slight smile was all the indication Rakshit needed. In three quick strides he had reached the bed and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.
The younger cousins wolf whistled and the elders chortled at his impatience. But Mahima saw her son holding on to her like his life depended on it, and his wife bury her head in his shoulder, gently rub his back and give him a whispered assurance that she was indeed fine. He pulled back to look at his Mrs Shergill properly, and Mahima saw the raw emotions shining in his eyes. Drishti, still holding on to his shirt, leaned forward and whispered something in his ear that finally made him crack a watery smile before pulling her back in his embrace.
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Realization dawned upon her that she had greatly underestimated the depth of the relationship her son and his wife shared. And if the family’s reaction was anything to go by, Drishti had already endeared herself to all of them. Maybe her daughter in law deserved another chance after all. With a new resolution and a spring in her step, Mahima walked out to make some soup. After all, her son’s Mrs Shergill would need it to get better soon.
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