"To the heartbeat that quickens at your touch, a melody only our souls can truly dance to......."
IZHAAR: Sanity to my Insanity and Peace to my Chaos.
(Book-1) Safar-e-Izhaar series.
Story of Aarav and Adwitya.
AARAV SINGH RAICHAND
A 27 years old, a...
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Hello Beautiful People 💗
Hope you all are amazing💫
Here's another update for you all My Gummy Bears 🧸 as I was busy so as compensation, giving a double update.
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Author's POV.
The gilded opulence of the store gleamed in the winter afternoon sun, reflecting the nervousness in Adwitya's bright, honey eyes. Aarav, her soon-to-be husband, stood beside her, the picture of sartorial calm in his silk kurta. Despite the heater air-conditioning, there was a flurry of activity - uncles adjusting their pagdis, aunts fussing over jewellery, mothers wiping happy tears. Adwitya felt like a spreadsheet caught in a whirlwind of chiffon and gold sequins.
"Deep breaths, Adiwitya," Aarav murmured, a hint of amusement dancing in his dark green eyes. He knew her well enough now to catch the tremor in her fingers.
She let out a shaky breath, stealing a glance at his reassuring smile. Aarav, with his easy confidence and mischievous charm, felt like a safe harbor in this sea of unfamiliar traditions. Their arranged marriage had blossomed into an unexpected sort of friendship in the weeks leading up to the wedding.
Their browsing began with sarees for Priyamvada and Sandhya, moving on to Mridul and Ashok, Jeet and Abhiraj, then Stuti and Malini and finally Akhil, Manya, Nikhil and Meera.
Next came their own outfits. Aarav, used to bespoke suits, stumbled through the sea of sherwanis and the ones (kurtas) he had were all chosen by his mother. "This one's too flashy," he'd grumble, only to see Adwitya's lips twitch in amusement. "Maybe you should stick to your boardroom suits," she'd tease, but her eyes lingered on him, finding humour in his discomfort. Finally, a deep emerald sherwani with gold embroidery caught her eye. "Try this," she insisted, her voice softer than usual. As he slipped it on, she adjusted the collar, her fingers brushing his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.
They unearthed hidden gems in forgotten corners – a vintage lehenga with intricate mirror work, a hand-painted dupatta with blossoming roses. Each find sparked a shared laugh, a secret pact to defy the expectations of a traditional wedding and weave their own story into the fabric of their lives.
Amid the frenzy, Aarav stumbled upon a simple, ivory saree. Its delicate lace border and soft sheen whispered of quiet elegance. He knew, in that instant, that this was the one. He held it up, his heart pounding in his chest. Adwitya's eyes widened, then softened with a smile that held tears. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
At that moment, amidst the glittering saris and chattering families, their souls touched. It wasn't the sparkle of gold or the allure of silk that held them together, but a shared understanding, a quiet promise whispered in the language of their hearts.
