-------------------------------------

Through the window, Ira saw Vivan and his family entering Rai mansion. She stood there for a while, looking at the guests coming in. Scorn leaked from her face as she snorted. The lively atmosphere was in contrast to the dreariness upstairs.

Her house stood majestic, dressed in strings of flowers and lightning. Since they arrived, the event became more lively and vibrant. Out of her door, Ashay yelled, "Groom is here. Come soon."

Ira snorted. She had to attend the celebration since it was her engagement party. In a Hindu wedding, before the actual marriage ceremony, was the ritual of engagement. This marked the official 'asking' of the bride's hand by the groom's family. It was a function held a few days before her marriage.

She opened the door and walked into the corridor. Curtains with strings of white Jasmine stretched to the stairs. A mild aroma filled the place. But she had no heart to appreciate the beauty.

Ignoring the crowd's odd eyes, step by step, she walked down the stairs. When she saw an astounded Vivan, she smirked.

He looked up the second floor and finally saw the figure he was waiting to see. The moment his eyes came to her, his smile went stiff.

The hall was adorned with red drapes and candles.

In a setting of the red celebration, she stood in all black!

Draped in a black saree with no jewelry, she emitted gloom. Black color in such a scene was seen as "bad luck" even a taboo.

There was no joy in her heart. The fact that this marriage was arranged against her wishes was enough to give birth to hatred. She showed up in the charcoal black to express her rebellion.

Vivan hesitated for a moment before walking to her. She turned to find the man standing before her. He had reached out take her hand before the last step.

Her hands hung on her side as her lips straightened. She wanted to see some restlessness on his face. Unfortunately, except for a sweet smile, his face didn't display much.

She walked straight off to their seats, leaving him. He pulled back his hand and walked behind her.

She stared at the man beside her and raised her eyebrows. Was he aware of the contempt behind her face?

A few whispers could be heard from the people around her. They must have been talking about her attire.

Soon the function began. After a short prayer, they exchanged rings. Vivan's mother, Tara Shah, got her traditional gold bangles and some jewelry she refused to wear. The family heirloom was left on the side. She sat there, indifferent to the vibrant atmosphere around her. All the time she didn't say a word or replied to anyone's remarks.

The ceremony holds a religious quotient attached to it. It marks the union of the two individuals as well as their families.

Yet during such an important event, she demeaned Vivan as well as her in-laws. Her own family was angry about her behavior. In fact, she not only embarra.s.sed Vivan but also herself that day. Fortunately, the ceremony was private and had only a few close relatives, or else this would have been forever in minds of people to be made fun of.

Since then, Vivan wore his ring all the time. His empty finger was a rare sight. While she never had hers. Even now she had no recollection what she did with it. Threw it? Sold it? Lost it?

No one would be willing to be humiliated in such a way. This man, above all the greatness, accepted an egoist woman like her. Why did he?

----------

'Right from the start, you asked no questions.

You didn't demand anything but gave me everything.

Didn't even complain or judge

You offered it all with a smile.

I don't know anything except this—

I see my world in you. My life, my soul, my G.o.d.'

A drop of tear slid from her crimson face to his hand, which still held hers. She raised her head.

"I will always wear this." Her moist eyes glistened with joy.

"You are my own."

The only thing she knew was she couldn't lose this man, couldn't live without him anymore. One couldn't fantom the fear she held at that moment. Did he already become her life?