Chapter 6 – Sarees and Suit Fittings
सिल्क की छुअन, रंगों की छाया,
हँसी में घुली हर छोटी माया।
तेरी निगाह में देखा जो मैं छुपाती,
उसमें खुद की मुस्कान भी पाती।
बिन बोले ही समझ गया तू,
छोटे-छोटे लम्हों ने दिल को छू।
सपनों के रंग अब धीरे-धीरे खुले,
साथ तेरे हर डर भी मुझसे दूर हुए।
Two days before the wedding, both families decided it was time for the "mandatory" shopping trip. On paper, it sounded harmless—sarees for Trishti, sherwanis for Abhineet, and gifts for the endless list of relatives.
In reality, it was chaos.
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The boutique in South Mumbai glittered like something out of a movie set. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling, scattering flecks of light across rows of silk drapes. Polished marble floors reflected every sparkle, and the faint scent of rosewater mingled with fabric starch. Every corner brimmed with dazzling stacks of brocade, shimmering sequins, and delicate zari embroidery.
Trishti felt dwarfed by the sheer opulence. She barely owned more than a handful of modest salwar suits back home, and here women glided around in designer saris, their bangles clinking like tiny bells. Assistants bustled forward with armfuls of folded fabrics, their voices syrupy with practiced politeness.
"Try this red one!" Priya Khanna chirped cheerfully, pulling a sequined saree from the rack and draping it lightly across Trishti's shoulder. The scarlet fabric burned bright against her skin.
Before Trishti could gather her thoughts, Anjali Mehra sniffed beside her, lips pursed in disapproval. "Red? Too harsh for her complexion. She'll look washed out. Emerald green would at least add contrast."
The words landed like stones. Trishti lowered her gaze, clutching the end of her dupatta as though it could shield her. She hated how her mother always spoke as though she weren't even in the room, as though her opinions had no weight. She wanted to say something, anything, but her throat locked itself shut.
From across the boutique, Abhineet stood with his arms folded. His expression gave away nothing, but when he saw the way Trishti's shoulders tensed, he moved forward.
"Red suits her," he said flatly.
The sentence cut through the chatter like a blade.
Everyone turned to look at him. His gaze was steady, unblinking, leaving no room for debate.
Priya's face softened at once. "Then red it is."
Anjali opened her mouth to argue, but one glance at Abhineet's eyes, cold and certain, silenced her. She clicked her tongue but said nothing.
Trishti's cheeks warmed. No one had ever spoken for her, not like this. For once, someone had chosen for her—not against her.
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Meanwhile, Nikhil strutted out of the trial room like a peacock, wearing a sherwani so garish it nearly blinded the room. The fabric was pure gold, embroidered with enough glittering thread to rival a firecracker.
"Well?" he asked, striking a theatrical pose, chin tilted high.
Abhineet gave him one look and said, "You look like a walking ladoo."
The sales assistant choked on a laugh, turning quickly to hide it, while Trishti pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Nikhil scowled, hands on his hips. "You people have no fashion sense." He spun dramatically toward Trishti. "At least you will understand. What do you think?"
Trishti hesitated. She didn't want to offend him, but the glitter really was too much. Finally, she whispered, "Maybe... too much glitter?"
For a second, silence hung. Then the entire group burst into laughter, even Priya, whose chuckles tinkled like glass.
Nikhil groaned and threw his hands in the air. "Even bhabhi is against me now!"
The word bhabhi landed softly in Trishti's chest. No one had ever teased her so playfully before, not in a way that felt light instead of cruel. For the first time, she didn't feel like an outsider.
Her eyes flicked, almost shyly, toward Abhineet. He wasn't laughing like the others, but there was the faintest flicker of amusement in his gaze, like a shadow of a smile that refused to form fully.
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When it was Abhineet's turn, the entire boutique seemed to pause.
He stepped out of the trial room in a deep navy blue sherwani, the fabric cut with sharp precision that molded effortlessly to his tall, broad frame. A subtle golden border gleamed along the sleeves, understated yet regal.
The women in the boutique all but swooned, whispering behind their hands. Even the sales assistants straightened their postures, as though his presence demanded respect.
Trishti's breath caught before she could stop herself. He looked nothing like the man she saw at home—the guarded, distant neighbor. Here, he looked... untouchable. Commanding. Like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, the kind that displayed royalty.
"What do you think?" Priya asked eagerly, turning not to Anjali or Nikhil but to Trishti.
It took a moment for her to realize the question was directed at her. Her pulse stuttered. Words tangled in her throat, but she forced them out. "It... suits him."
Abhineet's eyes met hers, holding them for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "Then this one."
The decision was final. No one argued.
---
By the time they left the boutique hours later, shopping bags towered high in the attendants' arms, their day's spoils neatly packed into glossy boxes. Stepping into the late afternoon sun, Trishti squinted against the brightness. The city roared around them—horns blaring, street vendors calling, the salty breeze of the Arabian Sea brushing the air.
She was drained, her feet aching, but inside her chest something felt lighter. She had laughed today. She had spoken, even if only in small whispers. It was a tiny step, but monumental for her.
As they waited for the cars to pull up, Abhineet stepped closer, his shadow brushing hers.
"You handled yourself well," he said quietly, his tone stripped of sarcasm.
Her eyes widened. "I... I just followed everyone."
"No." His gaze didn't waver. "You spoke up. Even small words count."
Her lips parted, stunned. No one had ever praised her for speaking before—not even for a whisper. That he had noticed at all made her chest ache with something unfamiliar.
"Thank you," she murmured, the words shy but sincere.
---
That night, in the privacy of her room, she unpacked her new sarees. One by one, she placed them carefully onto the bed—the soft emeralds, delicate pastels, golden borders that shimmered under the lamplight. But her hand lingered longest on the red saree.
The one he had chosen.
The fabric gleamed in the dim light, bold and radiant, everything she had never dared to be. She draped it gently across her shoulder, the weight both strange and comforting.
Her reflection in the mirror showed a slim girl with hollow cheeks, eyes that had seen too much silence. Yet, in the scarlet folds of the saree, she glimpsed something else—someone who could, perhaps, stand taller. Someone braver. Someone seen.
And in that quiet moment, she wondered if Abhineet had already noticed that version of her long before she had.
रंगों में घुला हँसी का उजाला,
छोटे-छोटे पल बने दिल का सहारा।
तेरी नजरों ने देखा जो मैं छुपाती थी,
उसमें खुद की ताक़त भी मैं पाती थी।
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✨ End of Chapter 6 ✨
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