chapter 3

Wedding Ceremony Scene

Pandit Ji (calmly chanting):

Aap dono vivaah ke pavitra bandhan mein bandhne ja rahe hain. Kripya fere ke liye khade ho jaiye.

(Shivansh and the bride slowly rise to their feet. The air feels heavy with tension, yet the sacred fire in the middle crackles softly, casting a warm glow. Each step they take around the fire binds them—not just in ritual, but in silence, in duty, and in secrets neither of them expected to carry.)

Pandit Ji:

Ab vadhu ke maang mein sindoor bhariye.

(Shivansh picks up the sindoor with slightly trembling fingers. As he gently lifts her veil to see her face, his breath catches for a brief moment. Time stills. His eyes meet hers—and recognition flashes. But he says nothing. Not a word. Just a slight clench of his jaw. He lowers his gaze and slowly applies the sindoor in her maang. A little of it accidentally falls onto her nose and cheek, painting her face like a silent promise.)

(The bride closes her eyes, a single tear escaping as the moment becomes real.)

Pandit Ji:

Ab mangalsutra pehnaiye.

(Shivansh takes the black-beaded mangalsutra and carefully ties it around her neck. His fingers linger for a second longer than they should before falling away with a sigh.)

Pandit Ji (with a faint smile):

Vivah sampann hua. Ab aap dono bado ka aashirwad lijiye.

(The newlyweds stand and begin touching the feet of their elders.)

Shivansh’s grandparents (with wet eyes):

Khush raho beta. Shivansh, apni patni ka hamesha saath dena. Aur beta, sada suhagan raho… meri pyari bachchi.

Mrs. Suryavanshi (wiping her eyes, cupping the bride’s face):

Khush...raho...beta… bas khush rehna.

Mr. Suryavanshi (with a rare softness):

Aaj se tum sirf hamare ghar ki bahu nahi, balki humari beti bhi ho.

Mr. and Mrs. Thakur (holding her hands tightly, their voices shaking):

Khush rehna meri pyari bachchi… apne sasural ko apna banana. Apne pati ka dhyan rakhna, beta. Aur hamesha muskurati rehna.

Bride (breaking down, voice trembling):

Ma… Ma… main aap sabko bahut yaad karungi…

(She throws herself into her mother’s arms, both weeping silently. The moment is heart-wrenching. As the bride sits in the car, her teary eyes keep glancing back—at her home, her parents, her childhood fading slowly with every passing second.)

Inside the Car

(An awkward silence stretches between them. Only the faint hum of the engine and occasional sniffles fill the space.)

Shivansh (sighs and finally breaks the silence):

Ab aur kitna rona baki hai aapka, Mrs. Shivansh Suryavanshi?

Bride (stammering):

Huh... j-jii... aap... main...

Shivansh (handing her a tissue):

Lo, aansu pocho. Aur pani piyo, warna dehydration ho jayega rona dhona karke.

Bride (quietly):

Huh...Ji...

Shivansh (offers a bottle of water):

Lo... thoda sa pee lo. Tum thak gayi hogi, itna rona koi choti baat thodi hai.

Bride:

Huh..Ji... th-thank you.

Shivansh (lets out a small chuckle):

Kuch nahi... sojao. Main tumhe jagaa dunga jab ghar aa jayenge, thik hai?

Bride (softly nodding):

Huh...Ji…ji..

Shivansh (teasing lightly):

Tumhe "huh" aur "ji" ke alawa kuch aur bolna aata hai? Ya yahi fixed vocabulary hai tumhari?

Bride (finally lets out a small nervous laugh):

Shaayad… aaj ke liye bas itna hi hai.

Shivansh (smiling faintly):

Chalo... improvement hai. Ab sojao.

(The bride leans against the seat, still clutching her dupatta, her heart beating fast, uncertain what the night will bring.)

At Suryavanshi Mansion –

(The entrance of the grand mansion is lit up like a dream. Golden fairy lights, fresh marigold garlands, and a vibrant rangoli welcome the new bride. A large silver thali rests by the door.)

Mrs. Suryavanshi (smiling warmly despite tears):

Aarti ki thali le aayi hoon. Is ghar mein tumhara pehla kadam shubh ho, beta.

(She performs the aarti, her eyes softening as she looks at the bride. The bride gently nudges the kalash with her right foot, the rice spilling forward in a graceful arc—a symbol of wealth and good fortune.)

(The bride then dips her feet in the alta tray and walks ahead, leaving deep red footprints on the white sheet spread before her. Every step she takes echoes in the silent hallway—echoes of a new beginning.)

Mrs. Suryavanshi (placing a hand on her shoulder lovingly):

Aaj se yeh tumhara ghar hai, beta. Apna hi samajhna.

(The bride nods, swallowing back emotion. Shivansh walks silently beside her, his expression unreadable, his thoughts elsewhere. The bride steals a glance at him—he isn’t a stranger, yet he feels like one.)

(As they enter the house, everyone claps softly. The atmosphere is warm, yet something unspoken lingers in the air between the newlyweds.)

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