Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
For as long as he could remember, Arnav had loved Holi.
He used to drive his mother up the wall during his childhood, many of his pranks costing her furious complaints and not to mention new furniture. His partner in crime, of course, was Lavanya, who had been clever enough to be his accomplice rather than his victim. The two of them alone would take on their entire family, playing pranks right from the onset of the festival at midnight up to sometimes a whole week after. By the time Arnav was a teenager, people either avoided him as though their life depended on it or simply surrendered to him in defeat.
Those were the good days. The days when life was simple; days when winning a prank against Dev brought him laughs just at the mere thought; days when even his father would share a joke or two.
It went without saying that things had changed dramatically when he started dating Myra. Their first Holi had been epic by his standards, an elaborate plan that was perfectly executed. She didn't anticipate, not even in the slightest, the bucket of red color he threw on her amidst their college Holi party. She had been furious for days (and also quite red for the pigment had refused to wash off). Of course, he had apologized a million times with a million different gestures, but she only relented when he had promised that he would never play Holi with her again.
That was the end of Holi as he loved it. In the years that followed, although his family celebrated in their usual rowdy ways, he didn't have the heart to. Myra often stayed home during the festival –claiming she was allergic to the colors, though, he had a distinct feeling that she found the celebrations beneath her stature– and he had grown used to giving her company. Back then it didn't feel like he was missing much, for a day with Myra without her busy schedule was nothing less than a miracle, but this year, Arnav understood just how much he missed it.
The festival of colors was an absolute joy to experience. Everyone, even the wisest and sternest, abandon their cages and run wild and free. There were no rules, no expectations, no divides. Just happiness.
And that's what Arnav felt when he entered Shantivaan that morning. Khushi had snuck out to the hospital at the crack of dawn, knowing quite well that he wouldn't have let her go if he was awake. She had just recovered from her influenza infection; he didn't understand why she insisted on jumping back into work.
One of these days, he was going to get to the bottom of it. Her obsession with her profession was getting quite worrisome.
To Arnav's bewilderment, however, every single person of his family straight-up refused to play Holi with him. Even Lavanya, who usually had a prank or two up her sleeve, wished him very formally before running off to join a war against Dev and the rest of the boys. And whoever he asked about this strange behavior, they simply brushed him off.
Annoyed and also quite bored, Arnav retired to the kitchen. Cooking had always been his solace and it was yet to let him down. All sense of time and worry left him as he immersed himself with instructing the cooks, many of who were utterly clueless on the importance of food presentation, when–
