The decision had been made, yet Pankhuri still found it difficult to believe.

Marriage.

Her marriage.

To a man she had met only two nights earlier.

She sat quietly in her room as Dadi opened the old wooden trunk beneath the bed. Pankhuri watched her remove a carefully folded saree.

"Ye pehen le," Dadi said.

Pankhuri looked at it.

It was red, but not the bright red she had seen brides wear in television serials. It was a soft, faded red, its colour muted by time.

She touched the fabric.

"Dadi... ye?"

"Tumhari maa ki shaadi ki saree hai."

Pankhuri's fingers stilled.

"Mummy ki?"

"Haan."

She looked at the saree for a long moment.

She had very few belongings that had once belonged to her mother: a photograph and a couple of old memories that were not truly hers. And now, this.

Dadi helped her drape it.

There was also a small gold chain.

Then a pair of tiny earrings.

"Ye bhi unhi ke hain."

Pankhuri touched the earrings.

"Unhone ye pehne the?"

"Shaadi mein."

Pankhuri smiled faintly.

"Achhi lagti hongi."

Dadi looked at her through the mirror.

"Tu bhi achhi lag rahi hai."

Pankhuri looked at her reflection.

She did not feel like a bride.

She felt like a girl playing dress-up in her mother's clothes.

Her wrists were adorned with simple glass bangles. Her hair was braided and decorated with a few flowers. A small bindi rested on her forehead.

That was all.

No heavy jewellery.

No elaborate makeup.

No grand bridal lehenga.

Just Pankhuri.

And somehow, that was enough to bring tears to her grandmother's eyes.

"Dadi, aap ro kyun rahe ho?"

"Khushi ke aansu hain."

"Jhooth."

Pankhuri smiled.

"Bilkul jhooth."

Dadi wiped her eyes.

"Bas chup kar. Nazar lag jayegi."

---

Outside, Armaan stood beside the car with Kabir.

Kabir had been unusually quiet since morning.

Finally, he turned to his best friend.

"Last chance."

Armaan glanced at him.

"For what?"

"Change your mind."

Armaan did not answer.

Kabir sighed.

"Armaan, I'm serious. Once you do this, things won't remain simple."

"I know."

"Your family is going to ask questions."

"I'll answer them."

"Your father won't take this lightly."

"I'll handle him."

"And what about her?"

Armaan looked toward the house.

Kabir followed his gaze.

"She's nineteen."

"I know."

"She has barely seen the world beyond that village."

"I know."

"She doesn't even know what she's getting into."

Armaan remained silent.

Kabir lowered his voice.

"You've always been good at taking responsibility. But this isn't a patient, Armaan. This isn't something you can fix and walk away from."

"I know."

Kabir studied him for a few seconds.

That answer was enough.

He knew Armaan.

They had grown up together-through school, college, medical school, Armaan's first job, and the years when he barely slept while preparing for his surgical examinations. Kabir had been there throughout.

He had seen Armaan at his worst.

He had seen him when his father was furious with him.

When he failed.

When he succeeded.

When his mother cried after yet another argument with him.

And he knew something about Armaan that most people did not.

When Armaan made a decision, he never did anything halfway.

Kabir rubbed his face.

"Fine."

Armaan looked at him.

"Fine?"

"I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

Kabir pointed at him.

"That's precisely why I'm doing it."

A faint smile appeared on Armaan's face.

Kabir immediately shook his head.

"Don't smile. I'm still convinced you've lost your mind."

---

The wedding was simple.

There was no grand celebration.

No band.

No crowd from Mumbai.

Only the village temple, a few elders, Pankhuri's grandparents, Kabir, and Armaan.

Pankhuri sat beside Armaan near the sacred fire.

She could hear the priest speaking, but most of the words passed over her head.

Her mind kept returning to one thought.

I'm really getting married.

When the rituals came to an end, Pankhuri looked down at her hands.

Her bangles were trembling.

Armaan noticed.

He said nothing.

He simply moved his hand slightly closer.

He did not touch her.

It was merely close enough for her to know that he was there.

Pankhuri glanced at him.

He was looking straight ahead.

For some reason, that made her feel slightly less nervous.

---

After the wedding, there was still one ceremony left.

Vidaai.

Pankhuri had believed she would be able to handle it.

She was wrong.

The moment she saw her grandmother standing in the doorway, tears began to fall.

"Dadi..."

Her grandmother pulled her into her arms.

"Khush rehna."

Pankhuri shook her head.

"Aap bhi."

"Hum theek rahenge."

"Phone karungi."

Dadi smiled sadly.

"Phone toh tere paas hai hi nahi."

Pankhuri laughed through her tears.

"Dadaji ka phone hai na."

"Usme balance nahi hota."

"Main letter bhejungi."

"Pagli."

They both laughed.

Then cried again.

Her grandfather stood a short distance away.

Pankhuri walked toward him.

"Dadaji."

He opened his arms.

She hugged him tightly.

"Apna khayal rakhna."

He placed his hand on her head.

"Tu bhi."

Pankhuri whispered,

"Main aapko bahut yaad karungi."

"Hum bhi."

She pulled away.

Her grandfather looked at her mother's saree.

Then at the small chain around her neck.

For a moment, his expression changed.

But he said nothing.

"Ja, Pankhu."

She nodded.

Then turned toward the car.

She took two steps.

Stopped.

Turned back.

And ran to her grandparents one last time.

This time, she said nothing.

She simply hugged them.

---

Kabir was waiting beside the car.

He looked at Pankhuri's tearful face and immediately decided to do what he did best: distract people.

"Bhabhi."

Pankhuri looked at him.

"Haan?"

"Ek baat bataun?"

She nodded.

"Armaan bachpan se hi aisa hai."

She frowned.

"Kaisa?"

"Gussa."

Armaan, standing beside the car, gave him a warning look.

Kabir ignored it.

"Bahut gussa. Ek baar school mein kisi ne uska lunch kha liya tha."

Pankhuri looked surprised.

"Phir?"

"Usne teen din usse baat nahi ki."

Pankhuri laughed.

Armaan sighed.

"Can we leave?"

Kabir smiled.

"See?"

Pankhuri covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

"Woh sach mein aise hain?"

"Bilkul."

Armaan opened the car door.

"Kabir."

"Okay, okay. Chup."

Pankhuri got into the back seat.

Kabir looked at Armaan.

"Tum dono newly married ho. Please don't kill each other before Mumbai."

Pankhuri's eyes widened.

Armaan closed his eyes for a moment.

"Just drive."

---

The road stretched ahead.

For the first few hours, Pankhuri barely spoke.

She watched the village disappear behind them.

The fields grew smaller.

The familiar houses faded from view.

She kept looking back until there was nothing left to see.

Kabir noticed.

"Bhabhi?"

"Haan?"

"Pehli baar Mumbai ja rahi ho?"

She nodded.

"Bahut door hai?"

"Kaafi."

Pankhuri fell silent again.

Kabir smiled.

"Darne ki zaroorat nahi. Mumbai mein log fast bolte hain, bas."

Pankhuri looked worried.

"Main samajh nahi paungi?"

"Main translate kar dunga."

She smiled.

"Thank you."

"Welcome."

After some time, Pankhuri looked at Armaan.

He was sitting beside her, gazing out of the window.

She hesitated.

"suniye ji?"

He turned.

"Haan?"

"Aapko... ek baat poochun?"

"Poocho."

"Main aapko kya bulaun?"

Kabir's lips immediately curved into a smile.

Armaan looked at him through the mirror.

Kabir turned his attention back to the road.

Pankhuri continued softly.

"Naam se bulana..."

She looked down.

"Thoda ajeeb lagta hai."

"Then don't."

"Par..."

She thought for a moment.

Then, with complete innocence, said,

"Patiji?"

Kabir bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Armaan stared at her.

Pankhuri grew nervous.

"Galat hai?"

"No."

"Phir?"

"Jo comfortable ho, woh bolo."

She smiled.

"Okay, Patiji."

Kabir finally laughed.

Armaan gave him a warning look.

"Bas kar."

"I'm trying."

Pankhuri looked between them.

"You both are really good friends, aren't you?"

Kabir answered before Armaan could.

"Since childhood."

Armaan nodded.

"Hmm."

Pankhuri looked at Kabir.

"Then you know him very well?"

Kabir smiled.

"Unfortunately."

Armaan shook his head.

Pankhuri laughed.

For the first time since leaving her village, the tightness in her chest eased slightly.

She turned toward the window again.

The road was changing.

The landscape was changing.

Everything she knew was gradually disappearing behind her.

And somewhere ahead lay Mumbai.

A city she had seen only through a television screen.

A city where she knew no one.

Except one man.

Her husband.

She looked at him quietly.

She still did not know what kind of person he was.

She did not know why he had agreed to marry her.

She did not know what would happen when they reached his home.

But she trusted him.

Perhaps because he had protected her when everyone else had judged her.

Perhaps because he had never once looked at her with disgust.

Or perhaps because, during the most frightening two days of her life-

he had been the one person who had simply believed her.

"Patiji?"

Armaan looked at her.

"Haan?"

"Hum Mumbai pahunchne mein kitna time lenge?"

"Several hours."

Pankhuri nodded seriously.

"Achha."

A few minutes later, she quietly fell asleep against the window.

Armaan glanced at her.

Her mother's old saree was still wrapped around her.

The small gold chain rested against her neck.

Her glass bangles made the fa

intest sound whenever the car moved.

He looked away again.

He did not know what he had just brought into his life.

He knew only one thing.

From that moment onward-

Pankhuri was his responsibility.

And whatever happened next...

he would ensure that she remained safe.

The car continued toward Mumbai.

Neither of them knew that the city waiting ahead would change far more than Pankhuri's address.

It would change both their lives.

🌸 AUTHOR'S NOTE

She left her home today.

Tomorrow, she'll wake up in a world she has never known.

And we'll meet it with her. ♡

- ALISIAN INK 🖋️