Chapter 9

The morning sun rose over the Doshi house, casting a golden glow over the vibrant decorations that adorned every corner. The wedding day had arrived, and the entire household buzzed with activity. The smell of fresh marigolds and roses mingled with the aroma of traditional Maharashtrian food being prepared in the kitchen.

The courtyard was transformed into a festive haven, draped in saffron and white fabrics. Strings of jasmine and mango leaves hung from every doorway, symbolizing prosperity and purity. The sound of drums and shehnais filled the air, setting the tone for the grand celebration.

~•~

Niharika sat in her room, surrounded by her mother and a team of women helping her get ready. She wore a traditional green and gold Paithani saree, the intricate zari work catching the light beautifully. Her hair was tied into a neat bun adorned with fresh jasmine flowers. The bridal jewelry, heavy yet elegant, included a nath (nose ring), a chooda (red bangles), and the iconic Maharashtrian crescent-shaped mang tika.

Her mother adjusted the mundavalya—the string of pearls tied around Niharika's forehead—and stepped back to admire her. "You look perfect," Yangeeta said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Am I?" Niharika asked softly, her hands trembling slightly.

Yangeeta squeezed her shoulders gently. "You're going to be fine, my love. Trust the process."

Downstairs, Mayank arrived with his family. He was dressed in a cream silk sherwani with a maroon stole draped over his shoulder. The mundavalya tied around his forehead added a regal touch, though he still felt awkward wearing it. His friends, Arjun and Imran, couldn't help but tease him.

"Look at you, man. A true Marathi groom!" Arjun said with a wide grin.

"Don't get used to it," Mayank replied dryly, adjusting the stole for the tenth time.

Maya, his mother, intervened with a warm smile. "Stop teasing him, Arjun. He looks perfect."

Imran chuckled. "Perfectly uncomfortable, you mean."

Despite the jokes, Mayank's friends were genuinely happy for him. Even though they knew he wasn't fully on board with the marriage, they hoped things would work out.

~•~

The ceremony began with the antarpat ritual, where a cloth was held between the bride and groom to prevent them from seeing each other. The priest chanted sacred mantras, and the families watched with bated breath. When the cloth was lowered, Mayank and Niharika exchanged shy glances.

As the rituals progressed, Mayank found himself observing Niharika more closely. She seemed poised yet distant, her eyes focused on the priest's instructions. The moment she extended her hand for the kanyadaan, he noticed the slight tremble in her fingers.

The final steps of the ceremony included the tying of the mangalsutra and the application of sindoor. As Mayank tied the sacred thread around her neck, Niharika felt the weight of their union settle over her.

He came closer to her. He noticed her faint breathing, her uneven breathing. His hand came slowly towards her, gently moving her maang tika to the side as he adorned the sindoor on the partition of her hair. When he applied the red powder to her parting, sealing their bond, a hush fell over the crowd.

"You may now be officially annoyed by each other forever," Arjun whispered to Imran, earning a suppressed laugh.

The ceremony ended with the couple taking their saat phere around the sacred fire, each vow tying them closer in the eyes of tradition.

"The wedding is now complete!" The Pandit Ji announced. Everyone erupted into cheers as they celebrated the new couple. Mayank and Niharika's hands were still held due to the saat phere. They hadn't let go.

~•~

Later, as they mingled with guests, Mayank's friends cornered him.

"Dude, you pulled off the mundavalya better than I expected," Imran teased.

Arjun grinned. "Yeah, you looked like you walked straight out of a Marathi movie."

Mayank rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that escaped. "Can we not make a big deal out of it?"

"But it is a big deal," Arjun said, patting his back. "You're married, bro. To Niharika Doshi of all people. I always knew there was something between you two back in school."

Mayank raised an eyebrow. "There wasn't."

Arjun smirked. "If you say so."

~•~

By the time the couple returned to the Datta residence, the festivities had left them both drained. The house was dimly lit, the earlier decorations still intact but subdued. Maya led Niharika to Mayank's room, teasing her gently before leaving.

The room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of Niharika's saree as she stepped inside. The bed was decorated with rose petals, and the soft glow of candles added an air of intimacy.

Mayank entered a few minutes later, loosening the collar of his sherwani. He looked at Niharika, who was sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, still adorned in her heavy bridal attire.

"You must be tired," he said, breaking the silence.

She nodded. "A little."

He hesitated before speaking again. "Do you need help with... the jewelry?"

Niharika blinked, caught off guard by his offer. "I think I can manage."

Mayank shrugged. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything."

As she struggled with the clasp of her necklace, he noticed and stepped closer. "Here, let me."

Before she could protest, he gently undid the clasp, his fingers brushing against her skin. The touch sent an unexpected shiver down her spine, and she quickly looked away.

One by one, he helped her remove the rest of her jewelry—the bangles, the earrings, the nose ring. His movements were careful, respectful, yet uncomfortably intimate.

"Thanks," she said softly when he finished.

He nodded, stepping back to give her space. "You should change. I'll wait outside."

When Mayank returned, Niharika was already under the covers, her back to him. He lay down on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

His mind replayed the day's events—the rituals, the teasing, the fleeting moments of connection. For the first time, he allowed himself to admit that maybe, just maybe, this marriage wouldn't be as impossible as he had imagined.

As sleep began to take over, one thought lingered: She's not what I expected, but maybe that's not a bad thing.

On the other side of the room, Niharika lay awake, her thoughts mirroring his.

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