Satinder's pov
As I opened my eyes, I was met with a vision of loveliness. Sanvi lay beside me, her peaceful face a testament to the serenity of her sleep.
Her dark hair cascaded across the pillow like a waterfall of night, and her gentle smile seemed to whisper sweet something to my heart.
My gaze was transfixed on Sanvi's beauty, my mind struggling to comprehend the depth of my emotions.
I felt as though I was drowning in the ocean of her loveliness, and yet, I couldn't help but want to be swept away by its tides.
As I looked at Sanvi, I noticed that she had hugged me tightly while sleeping, her leg resting on my stomach.
My heart swelled with love and affection, and I couldn't help but smile. I felt a deep connection to this woman, a sense of belonging that I had never experienced before.
In a low, husky voice, I whispered, "Mere baccha" (my child), my words barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat.
I didn't want to disturb her, didn't want to break the spell of the moment.
As I gazed at Sanvi, I felt a sense of wonder wash over me.
I marveled at the way her eyelashes fluttered with each breath, the way her hair curled slightly at the nape of her neck.
I felt as though I was discovering her for the first time, and yet, I knew that I had loved her forever.
Without disturbing Sanvi, I carefully got out of bed, my movements slow and deliberate.
I didn't want to break the spell of the moment, didn't want to shatter the tranquility of our little world.
As I stood there, gazing at Sanvi, I felt a sense of gratitude wash over me. I was grateful for this woman, grateful for her love and her presence in my life.
I knew that I would do anything to make her happy, anything to keep her by my side.
The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden glow over the room.
I felt its warmth on my skin, felt its gentle caress. I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, and I couldn't wait to see what the future held.
Sanvi's pov
I woke up at 7 am, feeling a sense of unease as I didn't see him beside me. I got worried, thinking, "Kya main itna late uthi ki vo chale gaye? Ab main kya karu?" (Did I wake up too late that he's already left? What do I do now?)
I quickly got up and went to take a bath, my mind racing with thoughts of my new life. As I entered my room, I was still tugging at my saree, trying to adjust it properly.
Today's the day of my first Rasoi, a significant ritual in my married life. I quickly wrap myself in a light, elegant saree, its soft fabric caressing my skin.
The pale color of the saree complements my glowing complexion, and I can't help but feel like a radiant bride.
As I drape the saree perfectly, my hands tremble slightly, betraying my nervous energy. I take a deep breath, composing myself, and begin to get ready for the ceremony. My mind wanders to the moment I'll cook my first meal for my husband.
I arranged my saree well and came downstairs .
Greeting my mother-in-law with a respectful "Parnam, Maa ji."
I knew it was my first day in the kitchen, and I was hesitant but excited. I asked my mother-in-law, "Maa ji, meetha main kya banau?" (What dessert should I make?)
My mother-in-law smiled and said, "Anything you want, beta." I thought for a moment and then asked, "Maa, unko khane mein kya pasand hai?" (What does he like to eat?)
My mother-in-law replied, "Kheer." My heart skipped a beat as I thought of making kheer for him.
I'm about to cook my first meal for my husband and his family! I take a deep breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I begin by making kheer, a sweet dish that's a family favorite.
My hands tremble as I measure out the milk, sugar, and rice. What if it's not perfect? What if they don't like it? I push aside the doubts and focus on the task at hand. As the kheer cooks, the aroma of sweet, creamy goodness fills the air, transporting me to a happy place.
Next, I move on to making aloo ka parathas. My mother-in-law's recipe echoes in my mind: "Remember, beta, the key to fluffy parathas is to knead the dough with love."
I knead the dough with all my heart, adding a pinch of love to every fold. As I roll out the parathas, my hands move with a newfound confidence. I place them on the hot tava, and the sizzling sound makes my heart sing.
As the parathas cook, my excitement grows. I can't wait to see the smiles on their faces when they take their first bites. I plate the kheer and parathas, garnishing them with love and a sprinkle of cardamom.
My heart swells with pride as I present the dishes to my husband and his family. Their first bites are like music to my ears - "Mmmms" and "Wows" fill the air. I breathe a sigh of relief, my nerves replaced with joy and a sense of accomplishment. I did it! I cooked my first meal with love, and it was a hit!
As everyone sat down to enjoy their breakfast, my eyes kept checking his expression, but he didn't say anything. I felt a pang of disappointment but continued to serve everyone with a smile.
After breakfast, everyone gave me gifts, some giving me shagun (a traditional gift given to a new bride). I felt overwhelmed with emotion as I accepted their gifts.
As the morning wore on, he got ready to leave for work. I felt a sense of sadness wash over me .
As I watch him hurry out the door, my heart sinks. He mentions urgent work, but his abrupt departure and avoidance of eye contact leave me feeling uncertain.
I long to ask if my breakfast efforts met his approval, but his distant demeanor discourages me. Self-doubt creeps in, and my face falls as I wonder if my cooking was subpar.
Standing alone, I gaze out the door, my eyes tracing the path he took until he vanishes from sight. Disappointment washes over me, and tears threaten to surface. Did I fail to impress him? Was my kheer too sweet or my parathas lacking in some way?
Regret and uncertainty swirl within me as I replay our brief interaction. His hasty departure and curtness have left me feeling deflated and questioning my abilities.
I had poured love and effort into that breakfast, hoping to start the day on a positive note. Now, it seems like it was all for naught.
The silence in the house grows, and my thoughts race with emotions. I feel like I've let him down, like my efforts weren't enough.
The excitement and pride I felt earlier have dissipated, replaced by doubt and disappointment. I'm left standing alone, wondering what I could have done differently, the taste of defeat lingering within me.
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