Utsav
The music, the flowers, the decorations-and most importantly, the people. I had to survive them for at least two more hours while I stood in front of the mirror, getting ready. I wore a deep, dark green sherwani with golden embroidery, and a matching gold watch that glinted subtly under the lights. My hair was styled effortlessly-messy yet intentional, waves falling into place as though they were meant for me and me alone. My face remained blank, as it always did. No one could read me, not unless I wanted them to. Tolerating the drama of weddings, like haldi and mehndi, was just too much. But Aadi wanted me there for him. Damn him. He always took advantage of being the younger cousin, knowing I'd pamper him because I was the elder one.
Still, my cousins, my brothers, my sister-they were the only ones I cared about in this life, and they knew exactly how to take whatever they wanted from me. If I said I was here in India for Aditya's wedding, which was only partially true, then I had no choice but to tolerate the circus.
"Someone's looking super hot today," Aadi's voice broke my thoughts. "I wonder, bhai, is it my wedding or yours? I mean, people might start considering you as the potential groom. You're stealing all the spotlight."
I turned around, catching him standing there in his emerald green sherwani, embroidered with fine glittering threadwork. A sleek silver watch hugged his wrist, and of course, in his usual fashion, two buttons were undone at the top, revealing the dark ink of a tattoo etched over his chest. In other words, he looked like the perfect self-destruction package for a wedding.
"I have no desire for that, Aadi," I replied calmly, my tone composed, betraying nothing of the silent battle raging in my mind to simply tolerate the chaos. "I'm happy being single, not willing to destroy my own life with my own hands. Now, go downstairs. It's getting late, and I'm sure everyone's waiting for the groom. I'll be there in two minutes."
Aadi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, bhai. You must be dying inside because you hate functions and parties. But it's my wedding, and you're the only one from our family attending. So at least smile for me once. It won't kill you."
I raised an eyebrow, clenched my jaw in that typical way he always knew how to manipulate me. Still, my lips twitched upward slightly, just enough to endure the chaos and make him leave. I could tell he knew I was forcing the smile, and yet, he couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh. I didn't react, watching him walk away toward the living room where the mehndi ceremony was being held.
I adjusted my sherwani once more before my thoughts drifted back to Aadi's emerald-colored sherwani. For a brief moment, it reminded me of the lady I had seen at the poolside earlier today-Maya Shekhawat. Her eyes were like emeralds, deep and full of curiosity, with a thousand questions hidden beneath them. I shook my head, not wanting to entertain a single thought about that spoiled girl, and walked out of the room to attend the mehndi.
As I descended the stairs, I saw the living room was filled with people. The energy was buzzing, yet I couldn't help but feel a sense of dissonance. Aadi's destruction was playing out in real time, and he seemed entirely unaware of the fact that family didn't know about his marriage. Yet, he invited so many friends-celebrities, businessmen, and women, all top-tier people. It was his choice, but when someone has already chosen destruction, there's little you can do to stop them.
My eyes fell on Aadi's fiancée, Aditi, standing in the center of the room. She was dressed in a green lehenga paired with delicate floral jewelry. Her makeup was light, but she wore long, fluttering eyelashes that added to her innocent charm. As much as I could read her, she seemed like a sweet and timid girl, even though she was a Bollywood star. I wondered how she managed to handle Aadi, who, like me, could be cold and cruel. But then again... love makes fools of us all.
Behind her stood Maya Shekhawat, in a striking green long skirt paired with a matching crop top, adorned with modern jewelry. She stood out in the crowd, as everyone else wore traditional outfits, while she was a fusion of traditional and modern. She knew how to represent herself, always standing out among the crowd. But I didn't give her more than a glance, even though I could feel her eyes constantly on me. I just continued walking toward Aadi, who stood at the center of the living room.
The living room was decorated with vibrant mehndi-themed décor. Colorful drapes in shades of yellow, green, and gold hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, festive glow. The floor was covered in plush rugs, and tables filled with bowls of henna, scented oils, and candles were scattered around. The air was filled with the scent of jasmine flowers, and small lanterns dangled from the walls, flickering softly. It was a traditional yet modern blend, and everything about it felt alive with energy. But none of it caught my attention as I focused solely on making my way to the groom.
As the function carried on, I found myself barely holding it together amidst the sea of cringe-worthy people. My eyes were straight ahead, my face unreadable, devoid of emotion, with a glass of drink in one hand and my other hand in my pocket. I observed the guests around me-laughing, dancing, and acting like fools. Aadi stood beside me, chatting with friends, occasionally glancing at Aditi. He'd never been this soft, at least not in my experience. Perhaps the wedding had turned him into a fool; I never intended to become one like him.
Aditi was sitting on a couch, her hand in the beautician's care as she applied mehndi to her palm. She was anxious, yes, but she managed to remain composed. Her friend Maya, along with another woman I didn't know but who Aadi had mentioned was a Bollywood fashion designer, sat nearby, speaking in hushed tones and laughing-gossiping, as women are known to do.
After some time, I saw Maya walking toward us. She looked nervous, and I couldn't help but wonder what made her so anxious. Then again, not everyone can handle the intensity of my presence. I didn't give her the satisfaction of even a single glance. My fingers remained tightly gripping the glass, and my gaze stayed unyielding. She approached, and I could tell she wanted to speak with me, but for some reason, she started with Aadi. She was teasing him, calling him "jiju," but I had no interest in their conversation. When I'm not interested, I don't hear a word. My focus is an on/off switch-if I don't want to hear, I can't.
But then she turned to me, and with a casual tone laced with charm, she said, "Oh, come on, Mr. Mehrotra. You could at least try laughing. It won't kill you, you know."
I could tell she was nervous, hiding it behind the smoothness of her words, but I saw through her act. I simply gave her a brief nod, trying to engage in the smallest of small talk. Her expression faltered, a hint of disappointment flashing across her face. She clenched her jaw but remained calm, before trying again, her tone still casual but tinged with a little more effort.
"By the way, I'm Maya Shekhawat-Bollywood's favorite rising star and singer extraordinaire. We met earlier today, remember?"
Of course, I remembered-how could I forget the ridiculous idea of walking around the poolside in heels? But my expression didn't shift. It remained as calm as ever. She extended her hand, her smile warm, trying to soften the tension between us.
I let out a heavy sigh inwardly. She needed recognition, as always. And being the gentleman I am-at least that's how people perceive me-I felt obligated to respond. Finally, my lips parted, my voice breaking through the stillness. "Utsav Mehrotra. Nice to meet you," I said evenly, with a slight dip of my head in acknowledgment. No warmth. No curiosity. Just calm courtesy.
She was clearly taken aback by my polite gesture-perhaps she assumed I was the type of man who was rude and indifferent, incapable of even basic manners around a woman. It was an interesting thought. Despite her surprise, she seemed pleased and a bit excited that I had at least acknowledged her.
But I wasn't about to indulge her further.
Without wasting another second, I spoke in a swift, dismissive tone. "Excuse me."
I didn't wait for her response. I turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. I knew, without looking back, that she likely felt disappointed. But I wasn't here to babysit anyone, especially not a woman like her.
I walked toward the balcony, away from the chaos and noise of the function. The view outside was calm-a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside my mind. The cold night wind brushed against my skin, soothing in a way only silence ever could be. I always preferred silence. It didn't bring peace entirely, but it offered a sliver of it-enough to keep me grounded when my thoughts turned messy.
India.
This country, this land... it had taken everything from me once. And yet here I was, back again-standing under the very sky that bore witness to my loss. My gaze fixed on the moon above, the silver orb hanging in the black velvet sky. The same moon that once looked down upon my destruction now faced the intensity of my stare. It felt like a challenge.
You took everything once.
But this time, I've returned.
And I won't leave empty-handed.
I should've stayed on that balcony. Should've let the night pretend everything was fine. But chaos finds me, even in silence. Especially in silence.
As my thoughts swirled in that quite rage, a low murmer caught my attention from the room adjacent to the balcony. A voice. A hushed, agitated tone. Maya
I didn't even need to look-I recognized her voice instantly. She was speaking to a man, or perhaps arguing with him. His voice grew louder, rough around the edges, laced with something that sounded dangerously close to verbal abuse. I sighed. This woman was chaos bundled in silk and glitter. And now, here she was, creating drama right in the middle of my cousin's mehendi ceremony.
Aadi had specifically asked me to handle any mess that came up. I couldn't just ignore this.
As I walked toward the room, the argument escalated. By the time I reached the doorway, I was greeted with the sound of a sharp slap. Maya's hand had connected squarely with the man's cheek.
The man-mid to late twenties, curly hair, broad shoulders, tall frame-stood frozen. Despite his intimidating physique, he had just been put in his place. I wasn't taking sides, but the scene was telling. To me, masculinity was never about controlling women. It was about guiding them, standing your ground when needed-but never through dominance. What he was doing, that wasn't strength. That was weakness disguised as power.
"Get the hell away from me, you motherf*cker!" Maya's voice rang out, venomous with fury. "Touch me again, and I swear I'll kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a month! You're nothing but a coward. You should wear bangles and a sari, since you clearly don't know how to behave around a woman!"
Her chest rose and fell with rage, but her eyes were sharp, unwavering. "And don't you dare think Maya Shekhawat is the kind of woman who forgives. Not after what you did, Mr. Rudra f*cking Singhaniya."
So his name was Rudra.
He stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, his ego clearly bruised. His eyes blazed, but he didn't move. I could feel the fury radiating off him like heat.
I knocked gently on the doorframe, making my presence known with deliberate calm. "Miss Shekhawat," I said evenly, "I believe Aditi needs you. You should be with her."
Maya turned toward me, surprised. I could see the confusion in her eyes-maybe even a flicker of gratitude-but she composed herself quickly. She shot Rudra one last furious glare before walking past me and disappearing down the hall.
I stepped fully into the room, facing Rudra.
"I don't want trouble," I said, my voice low, dangerously calm. "Especially not in my cousin's wedding."
Then I took one step closer, my gaze piercing through him.
"Not in my mansion."
I didn't wait for his response. I turned and walked out, leaving him to choke on the silence I left behind.
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"Do let me know your thoughts about this chapter in the comments section. If you liked it, please don't forget to vote. Your single vote is enough to give me the courage to keep writing more.
And please, don't judge the characters solely based on the starting chapters. There's so much yet to unfold. Especially Utsav - I know his personality might seem negative at times, but trust me, he's about to go through a powerful journey of transformation.
Let the story breathe a little before forming opinions. Big twists are coming."
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