Ranjish

ch 47

But now, it felt as if the walls were closing in on her, trapping her in a nightmare she couldn't escape.

Her mind raced, trying to come up with something—anything—that would give her a way out. The truth, the secret she'd been holding inside for so long, weighed heavily on her. If she could just warn Sagar about his father—the man who had killed her real father—maybe she could stop this, stop whatever Chouhan was planning.

Kanak sat motionless, her back stiff against the cold chair as a group of girls bustled around her, their voices bright and full of excitement. The room buzzed with activity, but Kanak couldn't bring herself to be a part of it. She barely registered their chattering, their lighthearted jokes about wedding traditions, and the occasional giggles as they fawned over her.

The girls worked quickly, their hands moving with practiced ease as they draped a rich, red bridal lehenga over her delicate frame. The fabric shimmered under the soft lighting, its gold embroidery reflecting the soft glow like tiny flecks of stardust. Her hair was carefully styled, every strand placed in perfect alignment, and soon enough, her face was framed with an elaborate veil.

Gold jewelry was draped around her neck, the weight of it almost suffocating. A heavy maang tikka rested on her forehead, and delicate bangles encircled her wrists, jingling softly with every movement. The scent of rose petals and jasmine filled the air, mingling with the strong fragrance of the henna that now decorated her palms in intricate designs.

Kanak could feel every part of the transformation, every stitch of the bridal outfit, the cold touch of the jewelry, and the gentle caress of the henna on her skin—but inside, it was as if her soul had been stripped bare.

As the girls stepped back, admiring their work, Kanak's reflection in the mirror was stunning. A vision of grace and beauty. The external trappings of a perfect bride—every detail carefully planned, every inch of her carefully crafted for the perfect moment.

But there was nothing perfect about how she felt.

Her eyes, though framed by layers of makeup, were lifeless. The deep sadness in them was unmistakable, a void that no amount of makeup or jewelry could hide. There was no joy in her expression, no excitement in her heart.

What was the point of all this? she thought, her chest tightening. She had been thrust into a role she hadn't chosen, a life she hadn't asked for. 

As the wedding ceremony began, Kanak was led to the mandap, where Sagar was already seated. The priest started chanting the mantras, and the ceremony began.Meanwhile, Kanak's nani and mother were locked in a room, unable to create any kind of disturbance. They were frantic with worry, but were powerless to stop the wedding.As the ceremony progressed, Kanak's mind wandered to Vikram, the man she truly loved. She wondered if she would ever see him again, or if she would be trapped in this loveless marriage forever.

As the pheras began, the lights in the mandap suddenly flickered and went out. The guests murmured in surprise, but the priest continued with the rituals, chanting the mantras in the darkness.

In the few minutes that the lights were out, a subtle switch took place. When the lights flickered back on, the wedding rituals continued as if nothing had happened...But Kanak's instincts told her that something was off. As she glanced at the groom, she felt a jolt of familiarity. The way he sat, the way he moved, it all seemed so similar to Vikram.

As the wedding ceremony came to a close, Sagar emerged from the crowd, dressed in his police uniform. "Under arrest, Mr. Chouhan," he declared, his voice firm and authoritative. "For threatening and beating Vikram in the village, and for supplying drugs to college students."