" Baghbhan mein phool khile aur bhanwre gungunane lage "

( Flowers bloomed in the garden and bumblebees began to hum )

The host announced, pointing dramatically at the couple standing on the stage.

" Baghbhan mein phool khile aur bhanwre gungunane lage " he repeated, leaning close into the microphone to build up the excitement.

" Hamare Dulhe ki ek muskaan dekhi, toh Apsaraayein bhi sharmaane lage "

( Seeing just one smile from our groom, even the celestial maidens started blushing )

A loud wave of giggles and joyous laughter erupted from the crowd of women sitting right below the stage. Meanwhile, on the other side, the men sat around the tables, bursting into laughs, clapping, and shaking their heads.

"Wah, wah! Wah, wah!" a man in his early 50s clapped loudly, his booming voice cutting through the crowd.

This was Mahendra...Shakuntala's brother, a Headmaster by profession and a full-time gangster by passion.

So far, he had been accused in over 14 murder cases and more than 23 forced kidnappings for shotgun weddings. Yet, no one dared to put him behind bars...in fact, the local police themselves stopped by his house every single day just to salute him.

And now, Shakuntala and Sishupaal had handed this exact man the grand responsibility of getting their only daughter, Belvanti, Aka Bela...married off to Hridaan.

"Aapne ladke ke baare mai sab pata kar liya hai na?" Sishupaal asked, leaning in close to whisper in Mahendra's ear over the bustling noise of the crowd.

( Have you found out everything about the boy? )

"Ab tak toh mere aadmi Delhi pahunch bhi gaye honge," Mahendra whispered back with a sinister grin. "Aap chinta mat kijiye, meri bhanji ki shaadi mai koi dikkat nahi aayegi... sab aaram se hoga."

( By now, my men must have already reached Delhi. Don't you worry, there won't be any problem in my niece's wedding... everything will happen smoothly )

Sishupaal nodded slowly in understanding, though a lingering sense of unease flickered in his eyes.

Mahendra casually glanced down at his gold wristwatch and spoke, "Theek do ghante baad program shuru karenge."

( okay, we'll start the program in two hours )

Sishupaal seemed noticeably nervous, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, but he agreed anyway with a quiet nod.

____________________________

"Humara hath chhoro!" Bela cried out through her tears. "Hum chillayenge!"

( Let go of my hand! I will scream! )

Yet Vikas's grip didn't loosen even a fraction.

"Toh chillao na, Bela darling," Vikas sneered, groping her from behind. "Tum chillaogi tabhi toh maza aayega!"

( Then scream, Bela darling. It'll only be fun when you scream! )

Bela thrashed and pulled with all her strength to break free, but he was far too strong for her.

"Aaj toh tujhe apna bana kar hi dam lunge," he growled, tearing off her pinned dupatta and ripping the fabric of her blouse. "Bahut nakhre dikhati hai tu!"

( Today I won't stop until I make you mine. You put on too many airs! )

"Chhoro hume!" she sobbed desperately, but he clamped his hand tightly over her mouth, stifling her cries.

( Leave me! )

On the path leading to the wedding house stood a deserted, dilapidated mansion. No villager dared to go near it, believing a chudail haunted the ruins, but in reality, it served as a local den for drunks.

Vikas had spotted Bela walking alone and forcefully dragged her into the shadows of the abandoned estate.

Meanwhile, Hridaan was walking back from his evening stroll. Because of the wedding in the village, three or four massive loudspeakers had been installed, blasting music at deafening volumes.

Bela's screams were completely lost to the rest of the village, but amidst the heavy thud of the loud music, Hridaan caught the faint sound of a muffled cry.

Driven by instinct, he turned toward the abandoned mansion. As he drew closer, the distressed muffled cries grew painfully clear.

Hridaan's eyes narrowed. He kicked open the old iron gate and stepped inside the dusty room.

​When he saw Vikas pushing Bela against the wall, his anger boiled over. Without saying a single word, Hridaan grabbed Vikas by the back of his shirt and slammed him onto the floor.

​Before Vikas could react, Hridaan pulled him up and punched him hard right across the face. Vikas stumbled back, coughing up blood. Hridaan did not stop. He punched him again and again, driving him back into a concrete pillar.

​"chor dijiye bhaiya galti ho gyi...." Vikas begged, holding his hands up. But Hridaan was too furious to hear him.

( Please leave me, brother, I made a mistake...)

​He kneed him hard in the stomach, then kicked his chest, throwing Vikas to the ground. Hridaan grabbed him by the hair and landed two final heavy punches on his temple.

Vikas's eyes closed, his body went soft, and he fell unconscious on the floor in a pool of blood.

​Breathing heavily, Hridaan turned around.

​Bela was standing in the corner, shaking with fear. Tears covered her face. Her top was torn at the shoulder, and her dupatta lay on the floor.

​Hridaan's face softened. He looked away immediately, picked up her dupatta from the ground, and walked over slowly.

​Without making eye contact, he held the dupatta out to her.

​Bela did not look up at him. She quickly took the cloth with shaking hands, wrapped it tightly around her chest to cover her torn clothes, and pulled the rest over her head to hide her face.

"Isko jaanti thi aap?" he asked, his voice low but thick with anger as he gestured toward the unconscious man on the floor.

( ​Did you know him? )

She nodded weakly, her whole body trembling under the tight wrap of her dupatta. "H- humare hi gaon ka hai..." she whispered through her sobs.

( H- He is from my village...)

Hridaan clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Chaliye mere saath, abhi jaakar aapke pitaji ko sab batate hain," he declared, turning on his heel and taking a sharp step toward the exit.

( Come with me, let's go right now and tell your father everything )

"Nahi, aisa mat kijiye!" Bela pleaded, her voice cracking in desperation.

( No, please don't do that! )

Hridaan stopped abruptly, turning back to face her.

"Matlab?" he asked, completely bewildered.

( What do you mean? )

"Sabko pata chala toh humare parivaar ki bahut badnami hogi," she whimpered, staring at the ground, terrified.

( ​If everyone finds out, it will bring great dishonor to my family )

His eyes narrowed in disbelief at her answer. "Badnami aapki aur aapke parivaar ki kyun hogi? Galat toh wo kar raha tha," he said firmly, trying to reason with her. "Aap chaliye mere saath."

( Why would you and your family face dishonor? He was the one doing something wrong. Come with me)

Before he could take another step, Bela dropped straight to her knees and fell at his feet, clutching the hem of his jeans.

Hridaan flinched, instinctively taking a step back in shock at her gesture.

"Hum aapse vinti karte hain, aapne jo bhi dekha kisi se kahiyega nahi... humari zindagi barbaad ho jayegi!" she sobbed uncontrollably from the floor.

( ​I beg of you, please don't tell anyone whatever you saw... my life will be ruined! )

"What the-- " Hridaan bit his tongue, stopping himself just in time as he watched her kneeling at his feet.

"Aap uss insaan ko bacha rahi ho jisne aapke saath zabardasti karne ki koshish ki?" he asked in disbelief.

( You are protecting the person who tried to force himself on you? )

"Hum bas khud ko bacha rahe hein..." she mumbled under her breath, her tears still streaming down her hidden face.

( I am just saving myself...)

Hridaan ran a hand through his hair, a mix of frustration and pity washing over him. "Accha theek hai, but please get up," he said, his tone laced with irritation at the absolute absurdity of the situation.

( Alright fine, but please get up )

Bela paused, looking up at him through her tears in pure confusion, unsure of what he meant.

Noticing her blank stare, he softened slightly and translated, "Mera matlab... please uth jao. Mai ghar chhor deta hoon."

( ​I mean... please stand up. I will drop you home )

Understanding his words, she slowly pushed herself up from the cold floor. Keeping her eyes fixed on the ground, she carefully adjusted her dupatta over her head to cover herself completely, and silently began following him out into the night.

As they approached the house, Shakuntala's eyes fell on them, and her face instantly turned pale with worry. She hurried toward them, taking in Bela's disheveled state.

"Kya hua tujhe?" she asked frantically, her gaze darting between Bela and Hridaan. "Kya haalat bana kar ghoom rahi hai tu? Byah mai jaa rahi thi na tu?"

( What happened to you? What state have you turned yourself into? Weren't you going to the wedding? )

"Madam, wo-- " Hridaan began, trying to explain.

( madam i-- )

"Humare peeche wo pagal kutta pad gaya tha, Maa," Bela cut him off quickly, her voice trembling slightly as she concocted the lie. "Andhere mai dikha nahi... achanak se hamla kar diya."

( That rabid dog came after me, Mother. I couldn't see in the dark... it suddenly attacked )

"He Bhagwan!" Shakuntala clutched her head in utter panic and immediately rushed forward to inspect her face and shoulders. "Kahi nocha toh nahi na?"

( Oh Lord! It didn't claw or bite you anywhere, did it? )

Bela shook her head softly. "Master saab ne waqt par aakar bacha liya."

( Master saab saved me by coming in time )

Shakuntala instantly turned to Hridaan, joining her hands together in deep gratitude. "Bahut bahut dhanyawaad, Master sahab! Aap na hote toh pata nahi kya hota..."

( Thank you so very much, Master sahab! If it weren't for you, who knows what would have happened...)

"It's okay," Hridaan forced a polite, tight smile. "Mai aa raha tha toh raste mai mil gayi mujhe."

( It's okay. I was coming along and found her on the way )

He took a step back, gesturing toward the main courtyard.

"Mai chalta hoon, aap log jayiye... byah mai." He gave one last subtle smile, turned on his heel, and walked away. The moment his back was turned to them, his expression hardened into a cold, irritated scowl.

( I'll take my leave, you all go ahead... to the wedding )

However, in the wake of this incident, Shakuntala's mind began spinning wildly with delight. Imaginary festive sweets were practically bursting in her head. Right then and there, she was already picking out names for Hridaan and Bela's future son.

"Maa, humein byah mai nahi jana... hum andar jaa rahein hein," Bela said dismissively, turning on her heel to walk away.

( Mother, I don't want to go to the wedding... I am going inside )

Before she could take a step, Shakuntala grabbed her arm in a firm grip. "Byah mai nahi jana hai toh mat jaa, par mere ek sawal ka jawab deti jaa!"

(If you don't want to go to the wedding then don't, but answer one question of mine before you go! )

"Kaisa sawal, Maa?" Bela asked, a wave of nervousness rushing through her.

( What kind of question, Mother? )

"Master sahab kaise lagte hain tujhe?" Shakuntala asked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

( How do you like Master sahab? )

Bela froze. She had no answer..in fact, she hadn't even thought about him in that way for a single second.

"Yeh kaisa sawal hai, Maa?" Bela asked in utter confusion, her brows drawing together. "Kal aapne kaha tha ki hum unke aas-pass bhi na jaye, aur aaj aap pooch rahi hain ki wo hume kaise lagte hain?"

( What kind of question is this, Mother? Yesterday you told me not to even go near him, and today you are asking me how I like him? )

"Tu bas mere sawal ka jawab de!" Shakuntala insisted, tightening her grip slightly. "Wo tujhe acche lagte hain ya nahi?"

(You just answer my question! Do you like him or not? )

"Kya fark padta hai..." Bela muttered softly, completely uninterested. "Humein kaun sa unse byah karna hai."

( What difference does it make... It's not as if I have to marry him )

"Aur agar karna ho toh?" Shakuntala's voice suddenly dropped into a cold, deadly serious register.

( And what if you do? )

"A-Aap kya bol rahi hain?" Bela stammered, her heart skipping a beat.

( W-What are you saying? )

"Dekh Bela," Shakuntala began in a heavy, uncompromising tone. "Waise toh tera byah humari marzi se hi hota, par fir bhi hum tujhse kuch chupana nahi chahte."

( Look Bela, otherwise your wedding would have happened according to our wishes anyway, but still, we don't want to hide anything from you )

"Matlab?" Bela whispered, terror beginning to seep into her voice.

( Meaning )

"Tere bapu aur maine soch liya hai ki tera byah Master sahab se hoga... aur wo bhi aaj!"

(Your father and I have decided that your wedding will happen with Master sahab... and that too today! )

"Kya bakwaas kar rahi ho aap, Maa!" Bela's voice suddenly rose in sheer panic, her chest heaving. "Kya yeh koi ganda mazaak hai? Aise kaise aap humara byah kal ke aaye aadmi se kara dogi?!"

( What nonsense are you talking about, Mother! Is this some sick joke? How can you just marry me off to a man who arrived only yesterday? )

"Tujhe itna sadma kyun lag raha hai?" Shakuntala questioned coldly, unfazed by her outburst. "Gaon mai aadhi se zyada shaadi toh aise hi hoti hai-- "

( Why are you so shocked? More than half the marriages in the village happen just like this-- )

"Iska matlab Master sahab ko pata bhi nahi hai ki unke saath kya hone wala hai?" Tears immediately spilled over Bela's eyes.

(Does this mean Master saab doesn't even know what is about to happen to him? )

"Unko agar pata chal jata toh wo bhaag nahi jate?"

Shakuntala sneered with a dark grin. "Tere mama ne sab jugaad kar liya hai. Ab bas muhurat ka intezaar hai."

( If he found out, wouldn't he run away? Your uncle has arranged everything. Now we are just waiting for the auspicious hour )

Shakuntala turned around and went inside, leaving Bela standing quietly in the courtyard, frozen in absolute shock.

It wasn't as if she was unaware of this infamous tradition of her village... In fact, she had grown up watching most weddings take place exactly like this.

Whenever an educated, well-employed man stepped foot into their village, the locals would kidnap him overnight and force him into a wedding at gunpoint...a practice known throughout the region as Pakadwa Vivah.

By doing this, the bride's family saved themselves from paying heavy dowries and lavish wedding expenses.

But it was always the girl who had to suffer the consequences for the rest of her life. It was never guaranteed that the groom would accept his forced bride after the ordeal. More often than not, the girl was left stranded...neither truly welcome back in her father's home nor accepted in her husband's. Living, breathing examples of such ruined lives walked freely through the village streets every day, yet the villagers refused to back down from forcing these marriages.

In fact, it had degenerated into a accepted culture...

Young men from the village who went to cities to get educated were now too terrified to ever return home, constantly haunted by the fear that they, too, would be abducted and forcibly married off.

Bela didn't care about luxury or wealth; she would have willingly accepted a life in a poor household with a loving family. But becoming someone's wife by force...trapped in a marriage built on a crime...was something she couldn't bear to face.

Yet, try as she might, she couldn't just step back from this fate. From the day she was born until today, the only choices she had ever been allowed to make were the colors of her clothes. In every major discussion about her own life, her opinion was never asked; orders were simply handed down, and she was expected to obey.

But Hridaan didn't have to suffer this fate. He was an outsider, free from their chains.

" hum Master saab ko sab bata denge " she thought, determination flaring through her fear. " Agar wo yahan rahenge hi nahi, toh humara byah kaise hoga? "

( ​I will tell Master saab everything. If he isn't even here, how will my wedding take place? )

Treading with breathless caution, she tiptoed toward the staircase, taking every step in dead silence to avoid drawing attention. Reaching his room, she raised her hand to knock urgently on the door..only for a harsh grip to yank her back by the arm.

Before her knuckles could even graze the wood, her mother dragged her roughly back down the stairs, smothering her last desperate hope in the dark.

"Tu pagal ho gayi hai kya?!" Shakuntala hissed, her voice a low, terrifying growl as she threw Bela down into the dim room on the ground floor.

( ​Have you gone mad?! )

Bela hit the floor with a dull thud, her eyes wide with desperation. "Maa, suniye toh! Wo sehar ke hain, padhe-likhe hain! Wo humko kabhi nahi apnayenge... humari zindagi narak ban jayegi, Maa!"

( Mother, please listen! He is from the city, he is educated! He will never accept me... my life will turn into hell, Mother! )

A sharp, violent slap echoed through the room.

Bela's head snapped to the side, her hand flying to her stinging cheek as hot tears spilled over her lashes.

"Apna yeh gyaan apne paas rakh!" Shakuntala threatened, pointing a trembling, furious finger straight at her face. "Duniya kya kahegi, uski chinta mujhe hai, tujhe nahi! Tere bapu aur tere mama ne jo faisla liya hai, wo pathar ki lakeer hai! Agar tune ek lafz bhi Master sahab ke samne bola, toh yaad rakhna... tere bapu tujhe issi ghar main dafna denge "

( Keep this lecture to yourself! I am the one concerned with what the world will say, not you! The decision your father and uncle have made is set in stone! If you utter even a single word in front of Master sahab, then remember... your father will bury you right inside this house )

Bela's breath hitched in sheer horror.

"Andar baith aur chup-chaap dulhan banne ki tayaari kar!" Shakuntala spat.

( Sit inside and quietly prepare to become a bride! )

Before Bela could even scramble up to her knees, Shakuntala stepped backward out of the room and slammed the heavy wooden doors shut.

The heavy iron latch slid into place, followed by the cold, definitive sound of a padlock locking her in.

Bela remained frozen in her spot, utterly unable to comprehend how a single moment had shattered her world, or how the very next moment was about to rewrite her entire existence.

"Humara byah Master sahab se..." she muttered in complete disbelief, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.

All she felt inside was a hollow, suffocating helplessness. The only sharp reminder that she was still awake was the burning sting on her cheek where her mother had struck her.

( My marriage to Master saab? )

Deep down, she had known ever since she was a little girl that when the day came, she would have to marry whoever her parents chose. But like this? Dragged into a criminal plot in the dead of night?

Like any young girl, she too had harbored soft, quiet dreams... She had imagined a joyful wedding full of celebrations, walking into a household where she would be loved, and being blessed with a husband who truly cherished her.

Now, every single one of those dreams was crumbling into dust. Her mother had handed down the final verdict, and Bela knew with terrifying certainty that only death itself could alter her family's resolve.

For anyone in this village to understand Bela's agonizing pain, they would first have to believe that forced marriage was wrong. But instead, the villagers took a perverse pride in this twisted tradition. To them, this wasn't a crime; it was a clever tactic to deny daughters any inheritance, strip them of their basic rights, and keep complete, absolute control over their lives forever.

While Bela was trapped in her room, suffocating under the weight of the terrifying truth, Hridaan remained completely oblivious to the trap tightening around him.

"You saved her from an assault, and she begged you not to tell anyone?!" Kirti's voice came through the speaker, sharp with disbelief. "How can she protect someone like him?"

"Forget it, yaar-- " Hridaan tried to brush it off, leaning back against the wall.

"Honestly, I bet they were having an affair," Kirti said bitterly. "When they got caught, they probably just put on a show in front of you!"

Hridaan's brows furrowed. "Don't judge someone without knowing the full truth, Kirti," he said, his tone soft but firm. "She seems like a very simple girl to me. Plus, she's the Sarpanch's daughter-for people here, their reputation and social standing mean everything. I don't think she was having an affair with him..."

"You're just too good, Hridaan. You think everyone is like you," Kirti scoffed over the line. "You have no idea what these innocent village girls are capable of! They only put on that helpless, timid act."

"Why are we even talking about village girls?" Hridaan asked, a tinge of irritation creeping into his voice.

"You're the one who brought it up," Kirti teased.

"Anyway, leave that," he said, eager to change the subject.

"Did Dad send my bike over yet?"

"Yeah, uncle mentioned it to me. You should probably get it in a day or two," Kirti replied.

"That'd be great. The school is four kilometers from here. It's fine walking there in the morning, but on the way back, the heat is unbearable," he sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"Should I send an AC for you?" Kirti poked fun at him.

Hridaan let out a dry laugh, turning onto his side on the thin mattress. "I'm not living in a mansion here, I'm staying in someone else's house," he said. "There's a ceiling fan here, and that's more than enough."

"By the way... have you given us any thought?" Kirti asked suddenly, her voice dropping into a low, intimate murmur.

"About us?" Hridaan questioned, his brows knitting together.

"Don't play dumb," Kirti whined softly over the line. "You know how I feel about you. How much longer do I have to wait for your yes?"

"Waiting was your choice," he said firmly, trying to establish an immediate boundary. "I can't just force myself to love you, can I?"

"Even if you forced it, I wouldn't mind," she drawled in a thick, seductive tone.

Hridaan closed his eyes in pure embarrassment, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really don't like all this, Kirti, and you know it."

"Why? You don't feel anything?" Her voice dropped even lower, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for the day you finally let me get close to you... to your heart, to your body... to your bed."

Hridaan groaned, utterly mortified. "Are you ovulating or something?"

"I'm always ovulating for you," she whispered unabashedly. "Just try, Hridaan... I'll do anything for you. Whatever you ask."

"I'm hanging up now. I'm sleepy," he muttered hastily.

Without giving her a chance to reply, he hung up instantly and shoved his face deep into the pillow, praying for the awkward heat burning his cheeks to fade.

Just a few seconds later, the sharp buzz of a notification broke the quiet room. Lazily, he reached out and unlocked his phone.

It was from Kirti.

His eyes widened in shock as a few photos loaded on his screen...pictures of her posing in black lace lingerie, accompanied by a caption

Save them if you want, I won't mind ;)

A shudder of absolute discomfort ran through him.

Hridaan immediately deleted the photos from his side, cleared the chat, and shoved his head back into the pillow.

Words : 4k