13

10» The Choti Bahu

Viraj Janaat Singh POV:

I heard the doorknob sound and tilted my head upstairs, and my eyes met with two familiar deep green eyes. There she is, my wife, all dolled up for her new house. 

She is wearing a light blue check, an A-line dress. Her curls are straightened. She must have used Straightener. 

She is looking really heavenly. My heaven.

(Janaat’s dress)

Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air for me to breathe, and my throat dried. This is a weird sensation that is new to me. With steps, she is coming towards my chest, tightening more and more.

“Can you zip up…” she said with focused eyes.

Zip up?

Me?

Of course, you have offered help earlier. 

I took one step to go near her, but she remained rooted. Then she gestures with her finger upstairs, “Can you please zip up my suitcase? I might have overpacked, and the zipper is troubling me.”

“Idiot, fucking stop behaving like a teenager,” I muttered under my breath. 

Passing by her, I climb the stairs to f*cking zip up her suitcase. I take the suitcase out of her room and see her holding two pizza boxes, which she was putting on the dinner table. 

I can’t help but notice her attempt to avoid eye contact with me. I can’t hold my smirk anymore, and she looked at me with that pout again. That chest-tightening feeling crawls back in me again.

“I was hungry, so...” she said with nervousness. I am also an idiot; a small bowl of khichdi can’t fill your stomach for a long time. I nod and slowly walk towards her. 

“Hmm, I don’t know about your taste, so I ordered paneer and veg-loaded pizzas. I hope that’s okay with you,” she said, putting two plates on the table.

She is really into junk food. In the future, making her eat healthy food is going to be challenging for me for sure.

She looked up at me with her dark green eyes, and the next moment I was sitting on a chair that was in front of her. Face-to-face. She took one slice from both pizzas and put them on a plate. Next was the sauce. Lots of sauce in the corner of the plate. Dip the edge of the slice in the sauce and take a big bite of that. The next bite was from another slice. “Mmuummm.” 

Her first bite was like a confession and that foodgasam sound. 

Did she make that sound every time she ate? 

A slight smile appeared on my lips, and I pushed that back before she noticed it. She is looking like a baby. “Paneer one’s is more tasty, you should try that first,” she said, sliding the pizza box.

I slide that box again to her side, “You eat that, I’ll eat the veg pizza.” If she likes that one, then she doesn’t have to share with anyone. She looked at me and nodded with a grin.

Seeing her eating like this is my favorite view nowadays. I was watching her like a creep, and it’s becoming more difficult for me to control my smile. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the straight hair falling on her cheeks. I just savor this moment, not to rush, just seeing how her lips touch each other when she is chewing.

Her overloaded cuteness is dangerous.

After 10 minutes, she slid the plate with the cornicione and half-eaten slice of veg pizza. And without delaying, I ate her leftover from her plate. I really want to talk to her about why she drinks. But she was already accepting her mistake. Also, she formed that tiny pout, so I don’t point out any questions. She is going to live with me, so I can change her bad habits. I’ll make sure she eats healthy food and juices. 

Teenagers these days drink just to show off their money. The money was gotten from their parents. My heaven is not like theirs; maybe her company is bad. I am sure that the brown-haired girl made her drink; my cute wife can’t deny her. 

Getting up from the table, I put the boxes in the dustbin. I stand by the sink, with two plates, of our first meal as a married couple, and I washed them. This makes my chest tighten with affection. I want these moments, a thousand ordinary evenings, shared meals with my wife. 

“If you are ready, then shall we leave?” I asked.

“Yeah, just give me two minutes, I’ll pick up my backpack and phone from upstairs,” saying that she ran from there. She really likes to run.  

I was waiting for her to come out, and I saw her. She is wearing white matching heels with a dress. Backpack in one hand and phone in the other. She also applied pink color to her lips. 

She is obsessed with lip products; her bedside drawer is proof of that.

“Wait, my…” I saw where she was indicating with her finger, and I know she wants that to go with her. I nodded and held the car door for her, but instead of getting in, she started looking at me, and her face flushed. “Did she blush? Did I make her blush?” Seeing her blush, my lips curve into a smile. Closing the door from her side, I move to the driving side and sit.

She was already tying the seat belt. Missed opportunity. 

“Before you meet your new family, I want to tell you about Heer bhabhi. She is special and an introvert, especially with new people, but if she likes you, then open up to you. I hope you will be kind to her.” I said.

She turned to face me, “Will she like me?” 

“Yes! You already did something; she will not just like but adore you.” I replied. Also, buckle up and start our drive towards the mansion. I hope she likes it there. I’m sure all the family members will make her comfortable. They have no other option but that. 

Don’t know why, but I have a feeling both bhabhi and my wife are going to get along with each other. 

.

.

.

Janaat Viraj Singh POV:

My heart is beating like a drum. Relax, it’s just a four-day stay. Dad will never lie to me. My neck was turned to the window, opposite to him. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t find the courage to see him. 

Gosh, He is so handsome and has long legs, a bonus is age, because I’m into older guys. He must be five years older than me. Do I have any issues with that? Absolutely not, when a man is that handsome, and age is just a number.

My chest was tightening as the car was moving ahead. My hands are sweating, and I'm constantly rubbing my thigh just to get the wetness away.

But again, a question came to my mind.

What if ye red flag nikala? 

What if he married me for any kind of revenge?

What if he kidnapped me? 

What if he were married and had a kid? Worst. 

What if his family didn’t let me in the house?

Good for me, I’ll come back and live in my room. Ordering lots of sandwiches. Also, I can watch him on TV. I am a strong, independent woman who can live alone. My head is wandering around, and suddenly I remember a conversation with my Mom.

Flashback

“Mom, why do you wear that wedding necklace? It is old, you should change that.” I was 15 years old at that time. I was sitting on the bed, where Mom was getting ready in front of the mirror.

Mom smiled, “It’s called mangalsutra, in English we call it nuptial chain. It’s in a lifetime chain, like our ID. You know this chain is a symbol of your Dad.”

“How?”

“See, this chain means we are both together. This chain indicated that we belonged to our husband and our husband belongs to us,” understood Jaan. 

“Hmm, but Dad doesn’t wear any chain, he should also wear that, why only you wear something that belonged to him?” I asked.

“See, in Christianity, married people wear a ring, and your Dad always wears his ring. So in your dad's religion, wives wear a nuptial chain. That’s like we both wear each other's symbols on us. So basically, when you marry, you will also wear this chain.” 

“Any other doubt, my jaan has?”

I smiled, “Mom, when I’m married, then I’ll wear both rings plus a chain, and also I’ll make sure my husband wears both as well. Equal-equal, you know.”

Mom chuckled at my idea, “I wish you would get a man like that who wears both. But more than that, he should take care of you, love you as your dad loves me.” With that, Mom put on lipstick and turned to me.

I stand and, with puppy eyes, “So now I’m 15 years old, can I use lipstick now?” 

“You should wait for three more years. On your eighteenth birthday, I’ll gift you the best lipstick collection. Till then, use only lip gloss, my adorable little Jaan.” With that, she pulled my cheek and gave a kiss.

“Noo, naa, stop pulling my cheek, on my eighteen birthday I’ll take all your lipstick and your collection will be mine,” I said with a grin.

“Time will tell, now get ready for school, otherwise we both will get scolded by your Dad, and now let me see if my little boy chiku pooped yet or not.” Mom said, raising her eyebrows.

Scrunching my nose, I said, “Eww, Mom, seriously?” 

“Nothing to be eww here, he is a little boy who needs help. Go get ready now, before we get late.” Mom said and left the room.

“So, Mr. husband. Who are you? I don’t know yet, but you'd better wear both.” With that thought, I also started wearing my school dress.

Flashback ends

.

.

.

I let out a light chuckle, but stopped in mid-way, thinking how stupid I was. Here, I didn’t get any ring and chain that tells me I belong to him, and in the past, I used to think that I would make my husband wear both.

Sometimes reality slaps us on the face.

I stay silent, staring out the window. The stars were twinkling in the sky, and my moonie is following us throughout the way. But after eating, I’m still feeling a little drained, maybe because of drinks. I don’t have any energy to think, and now I don’t know what to think.

The car slowed down, telling me we are near, and with that, my stress level peaked. Within seconds, we entered a big mansion. He unfastened his belt and opened the door on my side. I was so nervous that I didn’t notice his extended hand. With slow speed, I rested my finger on his palm. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I got out of the car. And start walking with him. 

Now I’m feeling all sorts of weirdness that can’t be expressed in words. Then my feet stopped, and I looked up to see him; he was already staring and smiling. 

The air seems too cold and tense. I stand here, overwhelmed by the contrast between what I’m gonna witness tonight. With each step, my heart is racing, and as usual, my head is behaving extra weird today. 

Then I notice there are a lot of light decorations on the way to the garden, to the main door. I read the villa name is MOONLIGHT VILLA, but now it’s shining as the sun bathed in so many lights. 

I am not complaining because I love lights. 

Was there any celebration?

Maybe this decoration is permanent. 

Before I surpassed my head, I thought words slipped from me, “Is it a daily occurrence, I mean this light and all decoration?”

He was already looking at me, still holding my hand, “Aaj khass hai, aaj es ghar ki choti bahu aai hai.”  (Today is special, today, the youngest daughter-in-law of this house has arrived.)

My hand fisted my dress, and my other hand was in his hand, sweaty. 

My heart dropped. Choti Bahu!! ME!!

My throat dried, and my feet felt so light, I’m sure if he had not been holding my hand, I would have fallen. 

I thought it was a surprise marriage, but this feels special, not casual. The new title, which is coming with lots of new surprise relations. 

This feels real. I glanced at him, and his eyes were already locked on me. He looked completely at ease. 

“Welcome to your new family. As a Choti bahu. As my wife,” he whispered, leaning near enough to make me hear his words. 

It means I am not a stranger to them, not a sudden decision, but a daughter-in-law, “the youngest daughter-in-law.”

My initial fear begins to fade as I process the significance of the moment. Something shifts; the initial tremor is not here anymore. I feel the tension in my shoulders ease as if the house itself offers a soft invitation.

Then his words, the new title, the new term for me, made me a little easier. The fear doesn’t vanish all at once; it smooths into something softer. 

I inhale the air that feels warm, too, as this is something I should have visited earlier. The warmth travels through me; it feels like I am coming into a new home, not any staycation. 

“Come, everyone is waiting for you.” His words are soft and careful. Does everyone know that I’m coming? 

I haven’t entered yet, and still I can feel a sense of safety and belonging that can be claimed in the heart first, before any physical step is taken. 

I took a few tentative steps, and we both stood on the main door. 

The main door opened, and a shower of flowers landed on us. I glance up just to feel the petals sliding through my face. Two women are standing in front of us. Both are smiling, and at a little distance, one more woman is standing. 

Why is it not coming near us? 

She is wearing lots of bangles. Is she his other wife?”

Why are they staring at me? 

Am I looking weird? But as far as I know, I have a cute face. 

I was still wondering in my head when one of them opened the red dupatta and settled just above my head. A strange sensation washed over me. Then another older woman dropped the mustard oil from one side of the door to another. Then the woman who was standing a little afar comes with a pooja thali and gives it to the older woman.

Then I looked towards the older woman. Maybe she is his mother and my mother-in-law. Then she did our aarti and applied a tilak on both of us. 

“Ab andar aa jao puttar,” said the older woman.

(Now, come inside, daughter.)

I was nervous this entire time, with slow and hesitant steps, we both entered. He pressed my hand a little. Yes! The whole time, he is holding my hand. Like if he leaves my hand, I will get lost. I also passed the tight-lipped smile. Honestly, I don’t even know what to do now.

His eyes were filled with warmth, which calmed me a little. But this little didn’t help much. But still, there is a sense of security I feel when he is around me. We all take place on the sofa in the living room. I was still looking down, and I didn’t know what else to do.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Viraj said, breaking the silence.

“Why, we don’t have a mouth, Mr. Singh. Hey, my name is Vanni, and I’m Mr. Singh’s cousin,” said the one who put that red dupatta on my head.

I smiled and nodded, looking at her face. It still feels weird. What can I say to them?

“Puttar Mein, Vaani ki maa or VJ ki bua hu,” said the older woman. 

(Beta, I’m Vaani’s mom and VJ’s aunt)

Again, I nodded and smiled. Gosh, they both seem to be nice. It’s calming me a little, but it still feels awkward. 

Vanni looked at the third woman, “Bhabhi, see she is waiting for you to introduce yourself.”

“Bhabhi?” What a crazy girl you are. She is his Bhabhi, and you were assuming her to be his wife. My head really lives in a delusional world. He created their own story and makes me feel silly all the time. 

“Aww, she is that introvert…” 

About her, Viraj told me earlier. I looked at Viraj just to be sure, and he confirmed with his head down.

Bhabhi is an introvert, but I’m not. So I got up from my seat, and that red dupatta slid and fell back, but before it could touch the floor, Viraj caught it and put it on the sofa. Why is he so attentive? 

I went near to bhabhi and sat beside her, extended my hand for a handshake, “Hey, bhabhi, my name is Janaat, could you tell me your name so we can be friends?”

Bhabhi stared at my hand with doe eyes. After evaluating for a second, she extended her hand and shook with a smile, “Hi Jannat, Humara naam Heer hai, and abhi hum 10th class me padh rahe hai.”

(Hi Janaat, my name is Heer, and I’m now in 10th standard.)

“Ooo, mera bhai, Chiku bhi 10th class mein hai, bhabhi,” I said just to keep our conversation going. Because introverts can’t maintain the flow, extroverts' duty is to keep them going.

(Ooo, my brother, Chiku, is also studying in the 10th standard)

“I like your dress.” Forwarding her dupatta, “see, humara suit bhi blue hai. Matchy-matchy.”

(see, my suit is also blue. We are both matching.)

Ooo, then I remembered his words, “You already did something; she will not just like but adore you.” 

I looked to see him, raising my brows, questioning if I guessed it correctly or not, and he nodded, telling me I got him correct. 

“Yes, yes, we are matching, so bhabhi, you and me, friends?” I asked awkwardly.

But I received her reply quickly, “Yes. Best friends.” With that, we both giggled. Bhabhi is so cute and pure, like he told me. My weird head assumed her to be VJ’s wife. Silly girl. 

Viraj was silently watching us with a small smile resting on his face.

With that, a tall man comes from the main door, wearing a doctor's coat. He also has long legs like him. The first thing I notice is legs, which is weird. 

She quickly jumped from her seat and rushed towards him, “Dr. Veer aa gye bua.”

(Dr. Veer is here, Aunt.)

“Haan, Putter, tere Dr. Veer aa gye,” Bua ji said in a teasing tone, but Bhabhi didn’t understand she was teasing. She nodded and rushed towards him.

(Yes, Daughter, your Dr. Veer arrived.)

Holding his hand, bhabhi dragged him, “See, Dr. Veer, VJ mere liye nayi dost laye hai, or usne bhi blue color pehna hai.”

(see Dr. Veer, VJ comes with my new friend, and also she is wearing blue like me.)

“She is VJ’s wife, Heriye, like you are my wife,” Dr. Veer replied while caressing bhabhi’s cheeks. Both are cute, and they seem like a perfect couple.

“Matlab ab meri new dost humare ghar mein rahegi, jse mein shadi ke baad yaha rahti hu?” Bhabhi asked.

(Means, now my new friend will also live here, like I also live with you after marriage)

“That you have to ask her, but later, first, let me talk with her,” Dr. Veer said, and Bhabhi just nodded. 

But her happiness is dripping from her eyes. Don't get me wrong, she was smiling before him, but now she is over the moon.

“I’m Veer, VJ’s elder brother. I am so happy that you are here.” He looked towards Bhabhi and then me, “I hope you both get along with each other.” I also nodded happily.

Viraj was still seeing all this with a resting face. Then his phone rings, and he excuses himself from us.

“Come sit, let’s talk more, Janaat?” Vanni di said. Now, having a normal conversation with them makes me more comfortable.

We all sat again on the sofa, where Bhabhi was playing with the edge of her dupatta and ogling Veer Bhai's clothes. But she is looking adorable.

“Janaat, it’s your turn now, tell us more about yourself,” said Vaani di.

Okay, here my extrovert personality is taking control, “me.. I mean, my name is Janaat R…” I stopped because after marriage, surname changes, should I use Singh or Roy? I was struggling in my head, then Vanni di said, “Come on, continue, Janaat.”

I smiled, “I am twenty years old, and this year I enrolled for a B.Des course; this will be my first year of college. Also, I’m a fashion influencer, and my profile recently touched 100k followers.”

“Oh my god, you have 100k followers at such a little age, my famous little Bhabhi,” Vaani almost shouted. 

Again, Vanni di spoke, “Tell me one thing, what’s your nickname, Janaat, I mean the name your family uses for you at home. I am asking this so we can use your nickname, so you will not feel awkward. Nicknames always remind you that you are in your family.” 

“My father and brother called me Baby or sometimes Janu also,” I replied. 

Hope they will not call me baby. Who called their daughter-in-law Baby? 

Vanni di laughed, “You look like a baby, my dear little bhabhi, so I’m going to call you Baby only. Hope you like it, baby-bhabhi.” 

I mentally face-palmed myself, “Lo gayi bhass pani mein.”

She got up from the seat and pulled my cheeks a little. Then apologize for going to the washroom. With that, Veer-ji also excused himself from us.

Heer bhabhi's eyes filled with curiosity, as she had heard about entirely different words. “Bhabhi, do you know about social media?” I asked, and Bhabhi denied shaking her head.

 I smiled and picked up the phone from my pocket. Yes! This dress has pockets, opened my Insta profile, “see bhbahi, this is called profile, here we can post about anything and meet new people. We can talk with new people and also make friends with them.” 

Bhabhi's eyes sparkled like she got a new toy. “Bhabhi, we will create your new profile, then I’ll teach you about this more.” 

Bhabhi nodded, and the next moment we heard Dr. Veer's voice that was calling for Bhabhi, and the next second Bhabhi flew. Bhabhi is really pure-hearted, and she is my favorite among them.

Now my Bua ji and I left. She picked up that red dupatta, folded it neatly, and handed me, “Putter ji, isko sambhal ke rakhna.” I also forwarded both palms.

(Daughter, keep this safe)

“Now, tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll inform the cook, who will make it.”

“No, need. We just ate pizza before coming here.” I said, getting a little embarrassed. 

What if she prepared a meal for us? It will go in vain. But that time I was hungry, I didn’t expect them to be all so nice to me. My weird head was plotting traumatic stories. 

“Arey, sharmane ki koi batt nhi hai, Putter. You can eat and wear whatever you want. I’m not bad, Mother-in-Law, like we all see on TV.” I nodded at her words. 

“Menu pta hai, ye sab naya hai tere liye, pr tu chinta na kar, jse paani me namak ghul jata hai, vase tu bhi rach-bas jayegi. Ab ye bhi tera parivaar hai. Or mein sirf bua nhi hu, mne Vaani, Veer or VJ ko apne bacho ki tarah paala hai, Mein unki maa jasi nhi blki maa hi hu,” said Bua ji, placing both hands on the dupatta that I was holding with both hands.

(Nothing to be embarrassed here, Daughter. I know it’s new to you, don’t take any pressure, like you salt blend in water, you will also mix here. Now it’s your home too. I’m not just an aunt; I did the same upbringing of Vaani, Veer, and VJ. I’m more like their mother than their aunt.)

My eyes welled up, “Aap… gussa nhi ho”, my lips started trembling, “I mean Viraj and I married like this.”

We didn’t get married like a normal couple. It was a weird surprise marriage.

Bua ji paused, and gave me a tight-lipped smile, “gussa kyu hoti? Itni pyaari beti laya hai mere VJ jo bilkul chote bachhe jasi hai.” With that, she hugged me, and I started sobbing like a baby. I don’t know why I’m crying like a baby. Maybe because I missed this, mother love.

(Why should I get angry? VJ got me such a sweet little daughter, who is just like a baby.)

“Arey ase rote nhi hai, Putter. Abhi toh mere papa or VJ ke dada ji se bhi milna hai, wo naa thode se old school hai, abhi tak toh so gye hoge. Koi nahi, kal subha nashte par mil lena unse.” With that, she wiped my tears and kissed me on the forehead.

(Don’t cry like that, Daughter. Now you have to meet my Dad’s and VJ’s grandfather. He is an old-school type, so he must have slept. No worries, meet with him tomorrow for breakfast.)

She pulled my cheeks and said. “Chal hun has de, Meri pyari bachhi.”

I giggled, and then our moment was interrupted by Viraj's steps. He looked at my face and suddenly asked, “Did you cry?” 

To be continued…

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

⬩➤ So now you meet the Singh family, which member is your favorite? 

⬩➤ Up next ~ Janaat will realize that she married just 24 hours after meeting VJ. 

⬩➤ For spoiler and extra stuff, you can follow me on Instagram. ID is ~ autthorsahiba_

Write a comment ...

sonnal

Show your support

➥Do you know the books we read are a reflection of the way we crave to be loved?? So here I am crafting a moment of peace, a lighthouse of words, when the night grows too dense. PEACEFUL NEST FOR YOUR HEART ♡⃛

Write a comment ...

sonnal

╰┈➤My forte is– In ❶tale, you will get ❷couples = ❹heartbeats. ⬩➤ YouTube & Instagram = ekk_sonnal