Prologue
The whole mansion is adorned with fairy lights, orchids and beautiful flowers especially ordered and delivers from Bangkok. The venetian crystals are glowing at its brightest. They have been shined and polished for this auspicious day, a big happy occasion for this melancholic family after some painful decades. White swans were floating in the pond and beautiful pink lotuses had decided to blooms specially for this occasion, it seems.
A lady attired in a simple cream pashmina saree, with aristocratic air was busy greeting and talking to her esteemed guests. She has silvery hair that has been pulled into a puff and then curled in a bun at the nape of her neck. The double strand pearl choker necklace and 5 carat solitaire diamonds earrings, would look odd on someone of her age but not on her. She had a quiet pride and a calmness on her kind face which made anyone who looked at her, curtsy in respect.
A little farther, a handsome young man sat alone, sipping on a glass of red wine, he languidly looks on at his unsuspecting grandmother greeting guests and thought would she be as happy if she knew the complete truth behind this pathetic charade of a wedding. Their eyes meet and she walks toward him.
He slowly got up to greet her, “Hello, Dadi!!”
She retorts back to him, “Why do you look so gloom? You are getting married to the person you have chosen, so show some enthusiasm! What is wrong with the two of you? Both of you are getting married to partners of your choices and still it seems that you are not interested. Let me go and check on Moh, is she still locked inside her room?”
With unshed tears, and shaking hands, Moh, looks at the two wedding cards -
MaanVeer Singhania weds Sunidhi Sharma
She picks up another card that reads
Mohini Vij weds Samarth Brar
Fresh tears begin to fall all over the beautiful bright yellow, organic paper cards and form big blots over Mohini’s name. She looks out of the window at the beautiful decorations in the lawn and the lights on the terrace. From the window she could see the huge illuminated banner that declared to the whole world their wedding announcements… First MaanVeer Singhania’s and right below it her name along with Samarth’s. But from where she sat she could only see MaanVeer Singhania Weds,…. the rest was covered by the poinciana tree canopy that was right at the entrance of the bungalow - style Singhania House and below was her name… Mohini. It could have been.. wish it was what her eyes were seeing right now… fresh tears fell from her eyes and she felt like her heart was breaking into thousands of pieces. Her heart was withering due to the immense pain, not just for today, but all the the previous occasions when her optimism did not allow her to cry. Tonight she was broken, the reality that she had refused to look was snaring at her face. She is broken and she will never be the same person again. She would never laugh, dance or sing. The very things that she loved to do. The very things, she was made for.
The halls were decked, the gardens were in bloom, the baby pink silk tents were floating all over the back lawns, there were guests filtering in and out of the house. Dadi aand Maan were busy handling the wedding preparations. In this humongous auspicious celebration, nobody noticed one person, who was crying her heart out in her room, clutching her childhood memories, her love, her Maan.
Destiny had never been kind to her. It still was as harsh as it has always been. Destiny took away her parents when she was very young, barely out of her toddler days, and today it is taking away the person whom she has loved since her childhood days. The one person whom she trusts and feels secure with. Her whole being and happiness lies in the hands of this one person. She has submitted all that consists of her to him, but whom she loves the most, hates her from the core of his very being. He would prefer never to look at her face in this life and he has spat, his hatred, on her face countless times. And she, Moh, never believed it until now. Yet she holds not grudge against him. Cause, he has full right to feel the way, he feels about her. His animosity and intense loathing rises from love and helplessness. Love for his parents who are no more with him, love that he constantly craves for but is deprived, and no amount of wealth can bring the love, that he longs for. And she is the sole culprit for his colossal loss. After all she is the only and only reason because of whom, MaanVeer Singhania is called an orphan.
Chapter 1
Mohini, got up from her window seat, opened the door of her room to see if anyone was outside in the corridor. She went to the wrap around verandah that surrounded the upper floor of the bungalow, and looked down towards the lawns where the guest had collected for the evening snacks and tea. She could hear the laughter of the guests. Most of them were Maan and Dadi’s relatives and acquaintances. She did not have any close relatives and with time had lost contact, if there were any. Her only closest ones thats she considered family were Dadi and Maan. Her lifeline and necessity- and which she was about to loose, soon.
The sound of Shehnai, came floating from the lawns, where the decorators were giving the last minute touches - the canopies were specially ordered in satin and net in her favorite hues of baby pink, and edged with soft candy colored fairy lights. The pathway from the entrance to the lawns where beautifully decorated with bunches of exotic orchids and white tuberoses. The wedding mandap, a simple white square pavilion, stood right in the middle of the flowing tents. Soon, it would be decorated with deep red roses, along with white and pink floral varieties. Maan had insisted on this decoration. He had bluntly commanded the event planner to make necessary arrangements and get the thousand roses from wherever they needed to ship them from, but this is exactly how it had to be done. Red, Maan’s favorite color. And roses were Mohini’s favorite flower.
Immediately, Maan came in her line of vision. She stared at him, giving instructions to his assistants about something as they scurried around him, taking notes and nodded their nervous heads vigorously. He had that affect on everyone around him. When he talked everyone listened. Especially women, she gulped. Women love Maan. As soon as he would make an entrance, women seemed to get aware and brighten up, they always hope that somehow they would catch Maan’s fancy. And why wouldn’t they? He was Harvard returned, had dynamic personality, was extremely successful - a man who at such a young age was dominating the innovative world of electronics. He had expanded his fathers steel business into more, much more and diverted into cables and filaments. His companies involvement into cables had opened up job scopes in the conservative and majorly sleepy town of Lucknow which had made him, a somewhat of a celebrity. His interviews was a common thing in the business and vocational columns of the city newspaper.
Maan, at 29 years of age, was the coveted bachelor of the nation. His beautiful caramel toned eyes with fiery specks gave him an intense, brooding look, sharp aryan nose, with sleek clean shave, he looked every inch the suave businessman that he was. There were not many who did not know him. But, Moh knew every tiny detail about him. His every need, every breathing requirement she had learnt by heart.
She also knew about his severed feelings for her.
Her thoughts went back to her early days when she had come to live with the Singhania’s.
She was just over six years old when she had first come to stay with Dadi and Maan. Dadi had warmly welcomed her into her aging arms. “Come here my unlucky child” Dadi had said and she had not understood why. Her young mind was, still not able to comprehend that her father was no more. Her mother had already died a few years ago and now her father had also left her. But she thought her father had gone on a long trip like he used to and then bring her beautiful dresses. May be this time he will bring a purple and pink dress for me her innocent mind wandered while Dadi cried holding her. “But why did Dadi say, I am unlucky?” she thought.
It was then she noticed him. He stood in the farthest corner of the room, looking at her in a very angry manner. She clearly understood that, the lanky teenager, did not like her presence. When Dadi asked him to come and say hello to little Mohini, he huffed and left the room banging the door behind him. He was mad at her, maybe because she is just 6 years old, she thought, and not a High School boy. By the time she would fully encompass the reasons and the depth of his hatred, it was already too late for her. Her little fairytale world had already been shaken by its roots.
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