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This chap is affectionately dedicated to -
VividReader19🖤✨

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"It's ok if you're scared or tired or unsure or feel one million billion other complicated emotions at once. But I've decided things are going to be ok anyway and I will hold that belief close to my heart no matter how scared or tired or lonely or depressed or one million billion other things I am. I will hold onto that and if you're scared, you can hold onto me. We can carry each other through.............."

Shubhita paced back and forth in her dimly lit room, her footsteps echoing with unease. The soft glow of a single lamp cast elongated shadows on the walls, mirroring the turmoil within her. She was just 25, but the weight of the world seemed to bear down on her shoulders.

Her hair cascaded down her back in disarray, matching the chaos in her mind. Her thoughts danced like elusive phantoms, slipping through her grasp whenever she tried to understand the situation. The silence of her room was broken only by the ticking of an antique clock on her desk, each second punctuating her anxiety.

The room was adorned with tokens of her past - framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, cherished books, and trinkets from travels now lost to time. She helplessly glanced at them, seeking solace in the nostalgia they offered, but it was fleeting.

She wrestled with the tangled web of decisions, second-guessing every move she had made. Her job, her hopes, her dreams - they all seemed uncertain, like grains of sand slipping through her fingers. She bit her trembling lip and clenched her hands, her knuckles whitening with the effort.

She couldn't decipher if she was on the right path or hurtling down a disastrous one. The future, once a shimmering horizon of potential, now loomed like an impenetrable fog. Should she push forward or turn back? Should she fight or surrender?

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the room around her. She craved clarity, a guiding light in this sea of uncertainty. Shubhita knew that life was a journey with twists and turns, but in this moment, every step felt like a precipice, and the abyss was unfathomable.

As the night pressed on, she continued to pace, yearning for a glimmer of hope to pierce the shadows of doubt. The weight of her decisions, her dreams, and the relentless march of time pressed down upon her. And in the quiet of her room, she was left to grapple with her own restless soul.

The room felt even more stifling as her mind was consumed by the weight of her new relationships, particularly her impending marriage. The voice of her would-be mother-in-law echoed in her mind, her words etched into her consciousness. She knew her fiancé's family was well-off, but the demands made her uneasy.

Shubhita had been walking down the corridor that led past her parents' room, her footsteps as light as her heart was heavy. She had never intended to eavesdrop, but the conversation on the other side of the door was impossible to ignore.

The muffled voices were tinged with a sense of entitlement that sent a shiver down hee spine. Her to-be mother-in-law was listing out a series of demands, all framed as necessities for their son's well-being. Luxuries were presented as prerequisites to ensure their son's happiness.

Her breath caught in her throat as she listened to the woman she would soon call her mother-in-law make it clear that her son's happiness hinged on the fulfilment of those materialistic desires. It wasn't a dowry, but the demand for a life of opulence was just as suffocating.

As the conversation continued, Shubhita's emotions swirled like a tempest. She couldn't believe that the sanctity of love and hope was being weighed against such extravagant demands.

The realization that she might be marrying into a family that valued status and wealth over love and happiness struck her like a thunderbolt. She knew that a decision had to be made, and her heart ached at the thought of confronting her fiancé with the uncomfortable truth.

After much contemplation, with hint of nervousness in her eyes, she held her phone in her hands. Her phone screen illuminated her face as she dialed the number she had memorized - her fiancé.

Their marriage was a mere ten days away, a union arranged by their families who hoped for a harmonious match between the two. Conversations between both of them had been scarce, marked by a reserved attitude. But as the days crept closer to their impending nuptials, Shubhita could no longer ignore the gnawing unease in her heart.

The phone rang, each tone echoing her rising anxiety until Vatsal's voice finally broke the suspense with a simple,

"Hello?"

"Hello, it's me," Shubhita replied, her words laced with a sense of urgency. She seized the moment to address the pressing matter. "I needed to talk to you."

Vatsal, who had been engrossed in a casual gathering, excused himself with a muted response and found a secluded corner to continue the conversation.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Umm... look, I'll be very direct to you." Shubhita hesitated for a moment, her thoughts jumbled like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit together. "So, Vatsal, it's like... I've been hearing some things about your family's expectations. They're not asking for dowry, but it seems like they're unsatisfied with the arrangements my father has made. Ad this clearly means that you people want more."

There was a pause on Vatsal's end as he processed Shubhita's words.

"I didn't know about this, Shubhita. My family hasn't mentioned any of this to me. I thought everything was going smoothly."

"Well, it seems otherwise. Vatsal, I don't want surprises after the wedding." Shubhita acknowledged his ignorance without dwelling on it. She felt a strange mix of relief and frustration. Relief that Vatsal seemed unaware of the situation, but frustration at the looming uncertainty. "I don't want our marriage to start with such expectations hanging over us. Can we talk about this and make sure we're on the same page?"

Vatsal, always one to avoid complexities, responded, "Yes, I'll speak with my family." His response was clipped, leaving gaps in the conversation that left Shubhita scrambling for understanding.

As Shubhita delved into the details, she observed Vatsal's pragmatic yet somewhat detached responses. "I'll try to sort this out." He said that in a straightforward manner that made Shubhita hesitate, sensing there might be more layers beneath the surface.

"Vatsal, I need specifics. What do they want, and what are you willing to agree to? It's important for both of us."

She implored, trying to break through the stoic facade, her mind seeking clear terms.

"They haven't told me anything specific. I'll find out."

He replied, his words leaving her with more questions than answers.

The clock ticked away, measuring the uneasy silence that followed. Shubhita navigating through Vatsal's concise replies. She decided to tackle the situation head-on. She voiced, hoping to bridge the gap,

"I need transparency, Vatsal. No beating around the bush. Can you promise that?"

"Well, I'll do my best."

Varsal's answer was crisp. His reply was curt, almost too quick.

The weight of the unsaid lingered between them, and Shubhita, feeling the need for a breakthrough, mustered the courage to delve deeper,

"Vatsal, do you want this marriage?"

A pause, pregnant with uncertainty, stretched before Vatsal finally spoke,

"Our families believe it's a good match. And I respect their judgment, Shubhita."

The words hung in the air, a barrier that Shubhita struggled to penetrate. She was overwhelmed by a sense of isolation, standing on the precipice of a life-altering decision with a partner whose thoughts remained elusive. She, undeterred, pressed further,

"But what about us? Do you see a future together?"

"We'll figure it out once we're married. That's how these things work."

His response was measured, his words carefully chosen. As the conversation continued, Shubhita struggled to decipher the enigma that was Vatsal. His reserved nature, his reluctance to reveal his true thoughts left her feeling like a wanderer in an unfamiliar landscape.

Shubhita felt a pang of frustration. Vatsal's matter-of-fact approach clashed with her desire for clarity and shared goals.

"Vatsal, I want more than just societal validation. I want to know you, to understand what you envision for us."

"We'll adapt. That's what married life is about."

His response was succinct. As the conversation unfolded, Shubhita struggled to unearth his true feelings beneath his practical exterior. She attempted to bridge the emotional gap, but his responses left her feeling like she was wrestling with shadows. Shubhita asserted,

"Vatsal, I need more than assumptions and adaptations. I need to know what you want."

His reply was straightforward, "I just want a stable marriage, Shubhita. One that doesn't disrupt our families' peace."

"Fine. I'll await a clear answer from your end. Good night!"

"Alright."

The call concluded, leaving Shubhita with a sense of resignation. The room felt like a battlefield of conflicting expectations. The ten days leading to the wedding stretched before her, a pragmatic journey where she needed to navigate not only cultural norms but also the challenge of understanding a partner who spoke a different emotional language.

The dichotomy between their communication styles created a dissonance that left the conversation hanging in the air, unresolved and laden with unspoken tensions.

Vatsal, after concluding the call with Shubhita, found himself in a peculiar state of emotional disarray. He slumped onto a chair, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He glanced at the mirror, meeting his own gaze as if searching for answers. "What is right?", he mumbled to himself, the question hanging in the air like an unresolved chord in a haunting melody.

The phone, a silent witness to the disarray, lay on the table, a tangible reminder of the conversation that had left him more confused and uncomfortable than ever.

As he replayed the call in his mind, the stark contrast between Shubhita's directness and his family's penchant for secrecy became glaringly apparent. She had laid bare the intricacies of her discomfort, vocal about the wrongs she perceived in the unfolding scenario. In her simplicity, she had proven to be more vocal about her concerns than he had ever managed to be.

The realization struck him like a sudden revelation. Shubhita, despite the reserved demeanour he had perceived, was a woman unafraid to confront the truth, even if it meant challenging ingrained traditions. She deserved more than the complexities that seemed to entangle their impending marriage.

His father, with his own set of issues, seemed a secondary concern compared to the enigma that was his mother. No matter how many issues he had with his father, he knew one thing perfectly and that was his father would not demand anything from the bride's family. It was definitely his mother.

The realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind, leaving him momentarily breathless. It was his mother who orchestrated the unspoken demands, unwillingly supporting his father's decisions regarding the marriage to Shubhita.

Vatsal, determined to address the tangled web of expectations within his family, dialled his mother's number. However, fate dictated that his father answered instead. The cold and indirect exchange that followed mirrored the strained relationship Vatsal had always navigated with his father.

"Hello!"

His father's voice was stoic, devoid of any warmth. Vatsal, cautious yet resolute, replied,

"Is Maa there? I need to talk to her."

A brief pause, then his father's reply,

"She's sleeping. What's the matter?"

"I wanted to discuss something. Something important with her."

The coldness of the conversation intensified Vatsal's discomfort. His father's response was indifferent,

"Can it wait?"

Vatsal didn't speak anything. His frustration simmered beneath the surface. A reluctant agreement came from his father when he heard nothing from his son,

"Fine, I'll wake her up."

"No, please. Not that important. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

"Fine."

The call concluded abruptly, leaving Vatsal with a sense of isolation. His attempt to address the issues had been met with the same cold resistance he had grown accustomed to. The confusion that had plagued him before the call now festered, intensified by the lack of resolution.

His both the conversations ended with a disconnection, leaving him more adrift than ever. He couldn't shake the sense of being a puppet in a play whose script he hadn't fully comprehended.

In an atmosphere tinged with surrender, his surrounding morphed into a battleground of clashing expectations.

The ten days ahead, looming like an expanse of uncharted territory before the impending wedding, presented a pragmatic expedition. It was a journey demanding not only the negotiation of familial norms but also the formidable task of deciphering a partner who conversed in a sentimental discourse foreign to him.

The stark contrast in his and Shubhita's modes of communication birthed a dissonance, leaving the conversation suspended in the air-an unsettling melody of unspoken tensions, waiting to be resolved but seemingly bound by an invisible restraint.

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This is it for now. Hope you liked it. I am sorry for the mistakes.

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