Anchahaa rishta Part 1

I have written this story in both Hinglish and English. The English preferred can go below and read it into complete English without interpretation.

Episode 1:

"Ishu... taiyaar hui ki nahi?" Ishita ki maa ne rasoi se zor se pukaara. Un dino awaazein mobile phone se nahi, ghar ke galiyon me goonjti thi.

Ishita ne kamre ka darwaza khola aur bahar aayi, peele rang ki saree uljhi hui pehni thi. Uski chaal me ghabrahat saaf jhalak rahi thi. Saree ka pallu baar-baar gir raha tha, aur maatha pasine se chamak raha tha.

"Aree, ye saree bhi theek se pehni nahi jaati tujhe!" Uski maa jhalla kar paas aayi aur saree theek karne lagi. "Ab sasural me aise hi jaayegi kya? Seekh le beti, ab toh tera ghar basne wala hai."

"Ladke wale aa rahe hain tujhe dekhne. Sarpanch ke ghar se rishta aaya hai! Sarpanch! Samjhi?" Maa ne aankhon ko bada kar ke kaha. Ishita ne sirf sir hila diya. Bas itna pata tha ki koi bada aadmi hai jo usse shaadi karna chahta hai. Uska naam, chehra—kuch bhi nahi maaloom.

Dopahar ki dhoop tez ho chuki thi. Ishita ke ghar ke aangan me charpaiyan bichayi gayi thi. Gaon ki auratein khusar-pusar kar rahi thi, jaise koi bahut badi baat hone wali ho. Ladkiyan idhar-udhar bhaag rahi thi, aur Ishita ki maa baar-baar usse tayar hone ki hidaayatein de rahi thi.

"Arre suno... sarpanch ka rishta aaya hai!" Gaon ki auratein ek dusre se kaanaphoosi kar rahi thi. "Itna ameer ghar, itna sundar dulha... Ishita toh raaj karegi pura!"

Udhar, Sarpanch ka ghar. Abhiraj apni maa ke saamne khada tha, chehre par naraazgi ki lakeerein saaf dikh rahi thi.

"Maa, aap sab kuch jaanti hain... fir ye shaadi kyun? Aur woh bhi mujhse 10 saal chhoti ladki se?" Abhiraj ne gusse se kaha.

Uski maa ne thandi saans lete hue kaha, "Beta, tu apne kaam me itna dooba rehta hai ki apni maa ki baat bhi nahi sunta. Teri zindagi me ek sahara chahiye. Mujhe apni jeete-ji poti dekhni hai, ghar ka utraadhikari. Agar tu apni maa se pyaar karta hai, toh ye shaadi kar le. Warna..." unki awaaz kaanp gayi, "Mujhe apni jaan deni padegi."

Abhiraj ki mutthi bhiinch gayi. "Theek hai Maa. Main shaadi kar lunga, lekin yaad rakhna... main isse pyaar nahi karunga. Kabhi nahi." Uske alfaaz kadwe the, lekin maa ki baat maan lena uski majboori thi.

Shaadi ka din aa gaya. Pura gaon sarpanch ki shaadi ki dhoom me doob chuka tha. Mandir ke prangan me bhavya mandap sajaya gaya tha. Har taraf phoolon ki sajawat, dhol-nagade aur gaon walon ka jamaavda tha.

Abhiraj ka ghar roshni se nahaya hua tha. Band-baaje ke saath uski baarat jab gaon ke mukhya maarg se gujri toh log chaton se dekhne ke liye jama ho gaye. Bacche daudte hue uski jhalak paane ki koshish kar rahe the.

Ishita ka ghar bhi khoob sajaya gaya tha. Uski maa baar-baar pandit ji se muhurat ki jaankari le rahi thi. "Pandit ji, sab kuch theek hai na? Kahin koi dosh toh nahi?"

Pandit ji ne muskurate hue kaha, "Sab kuch shubh hai, maa. Dulhan ko mandap me le aaiye."

Mantrocharan shuru ho gaya. Abhiraj ke chehre par saaf naraazgi thi. Wahi Ishita, ghoonghat me lipti hui baithi thi, uski saansein tez ho rahi thi.

"Ab dulha apne haathon se dulhan ki maang me sindoor bharein," pandit ji ki awaaz goonj uthi.

Abhiraj ne thali me se sindoor uthaya. Ishita ka ghoonghat ab bhi uski aankhon ko dhake tha. Jaise hi Abhiraj ne uski maang me sindoor bhara, Ishita ne dheere se apni palken uthai aur pehli baar apne pati ko dekha.

Lamba, chaunde kandhon wala, hari aankhon me gehra raub. Ishita ne mehsoos kiya ki ye insaan ab uske jeevan ka hissa ban chuka hai.

"Shaadi sampann hui. Ab dulha-dulhan ko ashirwad dein," pandit ji ne kaha.

Bado ne Abhiraj aur Ishita ko ashirwad diya.

Vidai ka samay aa gaya. Ishita ki maa ki aankhen aansuon se bhari thi. Unhone Ishita ko gale se laga kar kaha, "Meri bachhi... apna dhyaan rakhna. Apne sasural ka naam roshan karna." Ishita ka gala bhar aaya.

Ishita ne apni maa ke gale lagkar rote hue kaha, "Maa, mujhe aapki yaad aayegi." Uski awaaz toot rahi thi.

Abhiraj bas door khada sab dekh raha tha. Uski aankhon me koi narmi nahi thi. Uske liye ye sirf ek samjhauta tha.

Abhiraj aur Ishita ab car me baithe the. Ishita ka chehra aansuon se bhara hua tha. Woh lagataar apne aanchal se aansu pochne ki koshish kar rahi thi.

Kuch der baad, Ishita ne dheere se apne aansu poche. Tabhi uske paas ek safed malmal ka rumal aakar ruka. Usne chonkar dekha—Abhiraj ne bina kuch kahe uski taraf rumal badhaya tha.

Woh kuch bolna chahti thi, par uske chehre ki gehri, sthir aankhon ne use chup kara diya. Usne rumal le liya aur halka sa sir jhuka liya.

Safar lamba tha. Jhato se thaki Ishita ka sir dheere-dheere bhaari hone laga. Anjaane me usne apna sir Abhiraj ke kandhe par tikha diya.

Abhiraj ki pakad steering par tight ho gayi, par usne use hataya nahi. Kuch pal use dekhne ke baad usne jeep ki speed kam kar di. Bahar thandi hawa chal rahi thi, lekin andar kisi ankahi garmi ne jagah bana li thi.

Abhiraj ke ghar ke bahar pura gaon jama tha. Lal chunari se saje darwaze ke samne uski maa aarti ki thali liye khadi thi.

Ishita ne jhijhakte hue jeep se pair niche rakha. Uski nazar neeche thi.

"Pair pehle doodh-haldi me daalo," kisi aurat ne kaha.

Ishita ne halke kaampte paon aage badhaye aur thaal me rakh diye. Fir dheere-dheere ghar me pehla kadam rakha.

Gulab ki pankhudiyan barasne lagi, dholak bajne lagi, lekin Abhiraj bas chupchaap khada raha.

Ishita ne ek nazar uski taraf uthai. Uski aankhon me koi jazbaat nahi the—na khushi, na gham. Bas wahi thandapan.

Par jab woh andar jaane lagi, tab pehli baar usne suna—

"Thak gayi hogi. Jaakar aaraam kar lo," Abhiraj ne dheere se kaha.

Ishita ne chonkar uski taraf dekha. Uski awaaz me wahi thandapan tha, lekin shabdon me ek ankahi parwah thi... 💫

Usi raat, Abhiraj ke kamre mein halki roshni thi. Diye ki lau hawa se kaanp rahi thi, jaise is raat ki halki jhijhak ko mehsoos kar rahi ho. Ishita, saj-dhaj kar dulhan ki tarah palang par baithi thi—ghoonghat se dhaka chehra, kaanpti ungliyan aur dil ki tez dhadkanein...

Darrwaza khula. Abhiraj andar aaya, uski chaal mein wahi dabang theharav, wahi gehri gambhirta. Usne kunda lagaya aur dheere-dheere aage badha. Kamre mein uski maujoodgi bharne lagi, jaise woh deewaron, farsh aur hawa tak mein utar raha ho.

Ishita ki nazrein ab bhi jhuki thi. Uska dil ghabra raha tha, lekin yeh ghabrahat ajnabiyat ki nahi thi, balki kisi ankahi ehsaas ki thi.

Abhiraj ne paas aakar ek pal use dekha, phir thehri hui awaaz mein bola, "Darne ki koi baat nahi hai. Agar tumhara mann nahi hai is rishte mein aage badhne ka, toh main tum par koi zabardasti nahi karunga."

Uski awaaz mein sakhti thi, lekin usme ek anjaani narmi bhi chhupi thi. Ishita ne dheere se sir uthaya, uski aankhon mein jhaanka—wahan kuch aisa tha jo use yakeen dilaa raha tha ki Abhiraj bhale hi gambhir ho, lekin woh berahm nahi hai.

"Nahi... aisi baat nahi hai," Ishita ne dheemi awaaz mein kaha. "Meri maa ne kaha tha... aaj ki raat wahi sab karne ka jo pati kahe..."

Abhiraj ke honthon par halki tedhi muskurahat aayi. Usne ek kadam aur badhaya. "Aur aaj ki raat kya hota hai?" usne shararat bhare lehze mein poocha.

Ishita ki saansein tez ho gayi. Usne halke se kaha, "Jo aap kahenge... wahi sab chupchaap maanna."

Abhiraj ne gehri nazron se use dekha. Uski masoomiyat use andar tak choo gayi thi. Woh dheere se baitha aur apna haath badhakar Ishita ka ghoonghat uthaya. Pehli baar uski aankhon ko bina kisi parde ke dekha.

"Tumhari masoomiyat bhi ajeeb hai," usne dheeme se kaha aur uske maatha par halki, garmahat bhari chhuan chhod di.

Ishita ne palken jhuka li. Abhiraj ka haath dheere se uski thuddi tak gaya aur usne halke se uska chehra upar uthaya. Uski aankhein gehri thi, jaise unme hazaron kahaniyan dabi ho.

Woh uske honthon ki taraf badhne hi wala tha ki Ishita ki dheemi awaaz phir goonj gayi, "Ji... mujhe aapse kuch poochna hai."

Abhiraj ne halki bhawein chadhayi, uski ungliyan ab bhi Ishita ke chehre par tiki thi. "Kya?"

Ishita ne masoomiyat se aankhein jhapkate hue poocha—

"Ji... aapka naam kya hai?"

Abhiraj kuch pal use dekhta raha, phir halki hansi ke saath sir jhuka liya. Pehli baar uske chehre par gambhirta ke alawa kuch aur tha—shararat aur apnapan...

(Agla part jald hi... ❤️🔥 kuch Hot and happening aane wala hai  but the targe vote is 50 to proceed for next part open for suggestions, do shower your love on my first story.) 

English translation Here:
**Episode 1:**😇😇😇😇😇

"Ishu... are you ready or not?" Ishita's mother called out loudly from the kitchen. In those days, voices didn't travel through mobile phones but echoed through the narrow alleys of homes.

Ishita opened the door and stepped out, awkwardly draped in a yellow saree. Nervousness was evident in her movements. Her saree's pallu kept slipping, and her forehead glistened with sweat.

"Oh dear, you can't even wear a saree properly!" her mother scolded, stepping forward to adjust it. "Are you planning to go to your in-laws' house like this? Learn, my child. Your new home is waiting for you."

"The groom's family is coming to see you today. The proposal is from the village headman's family! The headman! Do you understand?" Her mother widened her eyes for emphasis. Ishita simply nodded. All she knew was that a powerful man wanted to marry her. She had no idea about his name or face.

The afternoon sun blazed high. In Ishita's courtyard, charpoys were arranged. The village women whispered among themselves as if something monumental was about to happen. Girls ran around, and Ishita's mother kept giving her constant instructions on how to present herself.

"Have you heard? The village headman has sent a proposal!" The women gossiped excitedly. "Such a wealthy family, such a handsome groom... Ishita is going to live like a queen!"

Meanwhile, at the headman's house, Abhiraj stood before his mother, his face lined with frustration.

"Mother, you know everything... then why this marriage? And that too with a girl ten years younger than me?" Abhiraj asked angrily.

His mother sighed. "My son, you're so engrossed in your work that you don't even listen to your mother anymore. You need a companion in life. I want to see my granddaughter while I'm still alive, an heir for this family. If you love me, then agree to this marriage. Otherwise..." her voice trembled, "I will have no choice but to end my life."

Abhiraj clenched his fists. "Fine, Mother. I'll get married. But remember... I will never love her. Never." His words were bitter, but obeying his mother was his helpless duty.

The wedding day arrived. The entire village was immersed in the festivities. A grand wedding canopy was set up in the temple courtyard. Flowers adorned every corner, drums echoed, and villagers gathered in excitement.

Abhiraj's house was lit up like a festival. His wedding procession, accompanied by music and fireworks, passed through the main village road as people crowded rooftops to catch a glimpse. Children ran alongside, eager to see the groom.

Ishita's home was also beautifully decorated. Her mother repeatedly checked with the priest. "Pandit ji, is everything auspicious? Any bad omens?"

The priest smiled. "Everything is perfect, Mother. Bring the bride to the altar."

The wedding rituals began. Abhiraj's face was visibly stern, while Ishita sat quietly, hidden behind her veil, her breath quickening with anxiety.

"Now, the groom shall apply sindoor in the bride's hair parting," the priest announced.

Abhiraj picked up the sindoor. Ishita's eyes were still veiled. As soon as Abhiraj filled her hairline with sindoor, she slowly lifted her gaze and saw her husband for the first time.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with deep, intense green eyes. Ishita felt the weight of this man's presence—he was now a part of her life.

"The wedding is complete. Bless the newlyweds," the priest declared.

The elders showered their blessings on Abhiraj and Ishita.

Then came the farewell. Ishita's mother had tears in her eyes as she embraced her daughter. "My child... take care of yourself. Make your new home proud."

Ishita's throat tightened with emotion. Hugging her mother tightly, she whispered, "Mother, I will miss you." Her voice trembled.

Abhiraj stood at a distance, watching everything. There was no warmth in his eyes. For him, this was merely a compromise.

As Abhiraj and Ishita sat in the car, tears streamed down Ishita's face. She kept wiping them with her saree's pallu.

After a while, as she tried to control her sobs, a white muslin handkerchief appeared in front of her. Startled, she looked up—Abhiraj, without a word, had extended it toward her.

She wanted to say something, but the depth and stillness in his eyes silenced her. She took the handkerchief and lowered her gaze.

The journey was long. Exhausted, Ishita's head slowly grew heavy. Unknowingly, she rested it against Abhiraj's shoulder.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he did not push her away. After a moment, he glanced at her and slowed the jeep.

Outside, the cold wind blew, but inside, an unspoken warmth began to take root.

When they reached Abhiraj's house, the entire village was gathered outside. At the entrance, his mother stood with an aarti plate.

Hesitantly, Ishita stepped out of the jeep, keeping her gaze lowered.

"Step into the milk and turmeric first," a woman instructed.

Ishita, with trembling feet, placed them in the ceremonial tray before stepping into the house.

Rose petals rained down, drums played, and the household celebrated. But Abhiraj remained silent.

Ishita stole a glance at him. His eyes held no emotion—neither happiness nor sadness. Just the same coldness.

But as she turned to step inside, for the first time, she heard him speak—

"You must be tired. Go and rest," Abhiraj said softly.

Startled, Ishita looked at him. His voice was calm, distant, but his words held an unspoken care.

That night, Abhiraj's room was dimly lit. The flickering lamp cast dancing shadows, mirroring the hesitant atmosphere. Ishita sat on the bed, dressed as a new bride, her face veiled, her fingers trembling, and her heartbeat racing.

The door creaked open. Abhiraj stepped in, his stride firm, his presence filling the room like an undeniable force. He shut the door and slowly approached her.

Ishita's gaze remained lowered. Her heart pounded, but it wasn't fear of the unknown—it was the anxiety of something unspoken.

Abhiraj stood beside her for a moment before speaking in a deep, steady voice. "There's nothing to fear. If you're not ready to move forward in this marriage, I won't force you."

His voice held authority, but beneath it, there was a strange gentleness. Ishita hesitantly raised her eyes and met his gaze—there was something there that assured her Abhiraj might be intense, but he wasn't cruel.

"No... it's not that," Ishita whispered. "My mother told me... tonight, I must obey whatever my husband says."

A small, amused smirk played on Abhiraj's lips. He took another step closer. "And what happens on this night?" he asked, his tone laced with teasing.

Ishita's breath hitched. She murmured shyly, "Whatever you say... I must quietly obey."

Abhiraj studied her intently. Her innocence touched something deep within him. Slowly, he sat beside her, reaching out to lift her veil. For the first time, he saw her eyes without any barrier.

"Your innocence is strange," he murmured, brushing a warm, featherlight touch against her forehead.

Ishita lowered her gaze. Abhiraj's fingers gently tilted her chin upward, his deep eyes holding countless untold stories.

He was just about to lean in when Ishita's soft voice broke the moment.

"Can I ask you something?"

Abhiraj arched an eyebrow, his fingers still resting against her cheek. "What is it?"

Blinking her large, innocent eyes, she hesitantly asked—

"What... what is your name?"

For a moment, Abhiraj simply stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

For the first time, his face held something other than seriousness—there was mischief, and perhaps, a trace of belonging.