Sahiba glanced at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the vibrant dupatta draped gracefully over her shoulders. Her hazel eyes held a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she prepared for her sister Seerat’s wedding festivities. The air in the modest household buzzed with anticipation, echoing the joyous rhythms of traditional Punjabi music.
Meanwhile, in the opulent mansion of the Brar family, Angad sat in his spacious room, his tailored suit impeccably complementing his regal demeanor. The weight of his family’s legacy rested upon his broad shoulders as he reviewed business reports, preparing to step into his role as the CEO of Brar Jewellers.
Angad and Sahiba hailed from vastly different worlds, separated not only by wealth but also by the expectations that accompanied their respective backgrounds. While Angad was the heir to a prestigious family business, Sahiba found solace in her art, pouring her heart into every stroke of her brush.
Unbeknownst to them, their lives were destined to intersect in a way neither could have imagined.
As the wedding celebrations commenced, laughter and joy filled the air, enveloping the guests in a warm embrace of camaraderie. Sahiba reveled in the festivities, her creative spirit ignited by the vibrant colors and melodies that surrounded her.
However, amidst the merriment, a shadow loomed over the celebrations. Seerat’s impending marriage to a suitor chosen by their parents cast a somber pall, highlighting the stark contrast between tradition and personal freedom.
In the Brar household, a similar tension simmered beneath the façade of affluence and prestige. Angad’s parents, Manveer and Inder, harbored grand ambitions for their son, viewing his union with a suitable bride as a crucial step towards solidifying their family’s standing in society.
The atmosphere shifted as Santosh and Ajit arrived at Bebe and Darathi’s house, urgency etched in their expressions. “Bebe, Darathi,” Santosh began, her voice trembling with apprehension. “Seerat sent us word to come quickly. Is everything alright?”
Bebe’s eyes widened in concern, her heart quickening with worry. “What has happened?” she questioned, her voice laced with anxiety.
Before Santosh could respond, the door swung open, revealing Seerat and Garry standing hand in hand, their presence casting a stunned silence over the room.
Garry spoke first, his voice filled with contrition. “We come seeking forgiveness,” he said, his eyes downcast. “Our love could not be denied, and we have chosen to be together.”
Seerat’s gaze sought out Angad, her voice trembling with emotion. “Angad, please,” she implored, her eyes brimming with tears. “Forgive us for the pain we have caused.”
Angad remained silent, his jaw clenched in a tight line. After a moment’s pause, he spoke, his tone measured. “Congratulations,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Manveer, unable to contain her anguish, turned to Santosh with a steely gaze. “This cannot stand,” she declared, her voice cutting through the tension. “Either Sahiba or Keerat must marry Angad now to save the honor of both families.”
The next day dawned with a solemn air, the tranquility of the morning belying the turmoil that raged within Sahiba’s heart. As she stood before the Guru Granth Sahib, clad in traditional bridal attire, a sense of resignation weighed heavily upon her. Her mother’s insistence, coupled with her father’s silent acquiescence, had left her with no choice but to fulfill their wishes.
Sahiba cast her gaze downward, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the delicate folds of her dupatta. The weight of the moment pressed down upon her, suffocating her with a sense of obligation that threatened to engulf her spirit.
Beside her, Angad stood stoically, his expression unreadable. Despite the ornate trappings of their surroundings, the bond between them felt as cold and unyielding as the marble beneath their feet.
As the ceremony began, Sahiba’s thoughts drifted to Keerat, her younger sister who, at just nineteen, was deemed too inexperienced to bear the burden of marriage to Angad. The weight of their family’s honor rested squarely upon Sahiba’s shoulders, a burden she bore with a heavy heart.
In the solemn glow of the sacred space, Sahiba made a silent vow to herself. Before the Guru Granth Sahib, she pledged to honor the sanctity of their union, to strive tirelessly to make their marriage work despite the circumstances that had brought them together.
Though her heart ached with the weight of duty, Sahiba summoned the last vestiges of her resolve, determined to forge a path forward amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead.
With the vows exchanged and the ceremonial rituals completed, Sahiba found herself whisked away to the grandeur of Angad’s ancestral home. As she stepped over the threshold, she was greeted by Manveer, her mother-in-law, whose welcoming embrace belied the weight of expectations that loomed over their new union.
In the hushed intimacy of their chambers, Sahiba’s gaze wandered to Seerat and Garry, their love palpable in the air. A pang of longing gripped her heart as she yearned for the same depth of connection in her own marriage.
Manveer’s gentle touch on her arm drew her attention, and Sahiba turned to face her, her heart pounding with apprehension. “Take your time, Sahiba,” Manveer said, her voice soft but firm. “Understand Angad, and let this marriage unfold at its own pace.”
With those words, Sahiba was left alone in the opulent splendor of Angad’s room, the weight of her new reality settling upon her shoulders like a heavy shroud. She gazed around the unfamiliar surroundings, her heart a tumultuous storm of uncertainty and apprehension.
As she took in her new surroundings, Sahiba resolved to heed Manveer’s advice. She would tread cautiously, seeking to unravel the enigma that was Angad, and striving to bridge the chasm that separated them.
With a silent prayer on her lips, Sahiba vowed to herself that she would do whatever it took to make this marriage work, not just for the sake of duty, but in the hopes of finding a glimmer of happiness amidst the shadows that encircled her.
As Sahiba stood alone in the expansive room, her heart still heavy with the weight of new responsibilities, the sudden slam of the door shattered the fragile tranquility that surrounded her. Startled, she turned to face Angad, her husband, whose entrance was as abrupt as a thunderclap in a silent night.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched Angad’s demeanor shift, his features contorted with a mixture of frustration and anger. The air crackled with tension, and Sahiba’s pulse quickened with apprehension, sensing the storm that brewed within him.
Before she could utter a single word, Angad’s voice sliced through the silence like a sharpened blade, his words laced with bitterness and scorn. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You, who are nothing but a burden thrust upon me by my family.”
Sahiba recoiled as if struck, her eyes widening in shock at the venom in his words. “Angad, I…” she began, her voice faltering in the face of his hostility.
But Angad cut her off with a sharp gesture, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. “Do not speak,” he snapped, his voice cold and cutting. “You have no right to address me. You are nothing but a pawn in my family’s game, a pawn that I never wanted.”
Tears welled in Sahiba’s eyes as she struggled to comprehend the depth of Angad’s contempt. “Please, Angad,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. “Let us try to make the best of this situation. We can–”
But her words fell on deaf ears as Angad’s expression hardened into a mask of indifference. “I will never love you,” he declared, his voice ringing with finality. “You are nothing to me but a means to an end, a duty I am forced to endure.”
The weight of his words pressed down upon Sahiba like a suffocating blanket, crushing the last vestiges of hope within her heart. “But… but we can try,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Angad’s lip curled in derision as he took a menacing step forward, his eyes boring into hers with cold intensity. “You will do as I say,” he hissed, his voice low and threatening. “You will not breathe a word of the truth of our marriage to anyone. You will act as if everything is normal, do you understand?”
Sahiba’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt Angad’s grip tighten on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin with bruising force. She winced, a sharp pang of pain shooting through her, as tears welled in her eyes and trailed silently down her cheeks.
“Y-yes, ,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to maintain her composure under his piercing gaze. “I understand.”
Angad released her with a dismissive shove, his expression a mask of cold indifference as he turned away from her, leaving Sahiba standing alone in the suffocating silence of the room.
Sahiba nodded, her heart heavy with resignation as she realized the true extent of her predicament. In that moment, she knew that she was truly alone, trapped in a loveless union from which there seemed to be no escape.
With a heavy heart, Sahiba turned away from Angad, her spirit battered and bruised by the harsh realities of their union. Though her resolve remained unbroken, the road ahead seemed fraught with uncertainty, a winding path shrouded in shadows and uncertainty.
The next day, as the sun cast its golden rays over the sprawling grounds of the Brar mansion, preparations for the wedding reception were underway. The air was alive with the hum of activity as decorators adorned the venue with opulent decorations, while caterers bustled about, ensuring that every detail was perfect for the occasion.
In the grand ballroom, guests began to arrive in a dazzling array of colorful attire, their laughter and chatter filling the air with a palpable energy. Sahiba stood at the entrance, a forced smile plastered on her face as she greeted each guest with practiced courtesy, her heart heavy with the weight of Angad’s disdain.
As the evening wore on, Sahiba found herself seated beside Angad on the stage, their hands clasped together in a mockery of marital unity. Angad’s smile was as sharp as a dagger, his eyes gleaming with a cruel amusement as he whispered cutting remarks in Sahiba’s ear, his words laced with thinly veiled contempt.
“You’re doing such a splendid job, my dear,” Angad murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he squeezed Sahiba’s hand with a force that bordered on painful. “I must say, you’re quite the actress, playing the role of the dutiful wife so convincingly.”
Sahiba gritted her teeth, her nails digging into the fabric of her dress as she fought to maintain her composure. “Thank you,” she replied through clenched teeth, her voice strained with forced cheerfulness. “I’m just trying to make the best of the situation, like you said.”
Angad chuckled darkly, his gaze cold and calculating as he leaned in closer to Sahiba. “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “After all, you wouldn’t want to tarnish the perfect image of our marriage, now would you? Heaven forbid anyone find out the truth.”
Sahiba’s breath caught in her throat, a surge of anger coursing through her veins as she met Angad’s gaze head-on. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she hissed, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Taunting me, belittling me at every turn. Is this what you wanted, Angad? To make me suffer?”
Angad’s smile widened into a predatory grin, his eyes flashing with cruel amusement. “Suffering is just a small price to pay for the sake of appearances, my dear,” he replied, his tone dripping with contempt. “And you, Sahiba, are nothing more than a pawn in my game. So, smile for the cameras, and play your part well. After all, we wouldn’t want anyone to suspect that our marriage is anything less than perfect.”
Sahiba’s heart sank as she realized the true extent of Angad’s cruelty, his words cutting deeper than any physical wound. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from him, her spirit battered and bruised by the harsh realities of their union. Though her resolve remained unbroken, she knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, and that she would need to summon every ounce of strength within her to face them.
As the night wore on and the reception reached its peak, Sahiba couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of isolation that gripped her heart. Each glance, each whispered word only served to remind her of her own insignificance in the eyes of her family and society.
What broke Sahiba’s heart even more was the realization that her parents, despite their disapproval of Seerat’s actions, still acknowledged and gave more importance to her sister who had run away. The injustice of it all weighed heavily upon Sahiba, a bitter reminder of her own perceived worthlessness in the eyes of those she loved.
Amidst the sea of faces, the only time Sahiba felt a semblance of peace was when she embraced her younger sister Keerat. In that fleeting moment of sisterly affection, Sahiba found solace, a brief respite from the suffocating confines of her loveless marriage.
As she held Keerat close, Sahiba felt a flicker of hope stir within her heart. Perhaps, amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf her, there was still a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope that shone bright in the form of her sister’s unwavering love and support.
With renewed determination, Sahiba vowed to herself that she would not let the cruel machinations of fate break her spirit. Though the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and heartache, she would face them head-on, drawing strength from the love and support of those who truly mattered.
And so, as the night drew to a close and the guests departed, Sahiba stood amidst the remnants of the celebration, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken truths and unfulfilled dreams. But within the depths of her soul burned a fire, a fierce determination to rise above the ashes of her shattered hopes and forge a new path forward, one filled with courage, resilience, and unwavering resolve.