Iqraar

Chapter 14

Sheesh Mahal stood resplendent under the soft glow of its chandeliers, its grandeur magnified by the delicate decorations chosen for the occasion. The brightness of marigolds, interspersed with soft candlelight flickering off the mirrored walls, lent an air of elegance to the vast hall. The warmth of the Raizadas and Guptas' presence filled the space, their conversations mingling with the quiet strains of a sitar playing in the background.

Khushi stood in a corner near a grand mirror, adjusting the drape of her soft golden lehenga. The fabric glimmered, flowing with intricate embroidery, the embroidered flowers curling delicately along the edges. Her dupatta, pinned neatly over one shoulder, cascaded down her frame, bathing her in a warm golden glow. The warmth of the families' joy surrounded her, but her heart raced with nervous energy.

"Khushi bitiya," Nani's gentle voice broke through her thoughts. Devyani Raizada approached with a kind smile, dressed in a regal saree with traditional Lucknowi Chikan. "Are you ready?"

Khushi nodded, her eyes darting toward the centre of the hall where Arnav stood, speaking with Aakash. He looked striking in a dark grey suit, impeccably tailored to his lean, powerful frame, with a crisp white shirt and a dark tie that seemed to intensify his commanding presence. As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned and caught her gaze, and for a fleeting second, the world seemed to still. Khushi felt it more than she saw it—the slight stillness in his manner, the subtle narrowing of his eyes as if he was asking her a silent question. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she looked down, pretending to smooth her already perfect pleats.

"Shall we begin?" Nani asked, drawing Khushi's attention back to her.

"Khushi," Payal's gentle voice came from beside her. "Come, everyone's waiting."

The hall was alive with chatters and a festive mood. The small gathering moved toward the centre of the hall, where a low table held trays of sweets, gifts and garlands of marigold.

Anjali, standing near the center, wore a serene smile as she fussed over a tray of engagement paraphernalia. Her husband, Shyam, stood nearby, chatting easily with Aakash and Arnav's Mama. Mami, resplendent in a bright saree with gold accents, was deep in conversation with Buaji about the ceremonies to come.

Shashi Gupta sat beside Garima, his frailty evident in the way he leaned slightly into the cushions, though his face beamed with pride. His eyes followed Khushi as she walked toward the gathering.

The ceremony began with Nani leading a prayer, her voice steady and filled with emotion. "This engagement," she said, her gaze encompassing both families, "is not just the union of two individuals but the merging of two families. As we move forward, we do so with love, respect, and blessings for Arnav and Khushi. When the time comes, we'll have a traditional roka with all the customs and rituals to honor our traditions. But today is for our families to come together."

Garima nodded, her hands folded in gratitude. "We are blessed to be here, surrounded by so much love."

Khushi's heart thudded in her chest as Arnav stepped forward, his gaze unwavering as it rested on her. Her feet felt rooted to the ground until Buaji nudged her gently, whispering, "Come, Titaliya."

Khushi found herself being led toward Arnav, her footsteps faltering as she felt the weight of his gaze. His stance was as confident as ever, but his eyes... they burned with an intensity that made her pulse race. When she came to a stop beside him, the air between them seemed to crackle. Her skin tingled, every nerve heightened by his proximity. She didn't dare look up, but she could feel the heat of his gaze tracing her features—the delicate tikka resting on her forehead, the faint curve of her lips, the nervous flutter of her hands.