Chapter 65: Chapter 65

A week elapsed in a blur as everybody got extremely invested in the wedding preparations. The designers, caterers, jewelers from around the globe were summoned. The invitations were sent. Time was not in their hand as everything was happening so quickly. Alot of preparation was to be done within a short span of a week.

The haveli was decorated with flowers and lights. Red, pink, yellow, blue. The fragrance of fresh flowers had drenched the whole haveli in its scent. The west wing of the haveli, which also had Shehryaar's room, was prepared for the new couple in the town. The dresses were selected at the last point of time and so was the jewelry.

Sheharzaad had gotten severe wedding anxiety that she got sick. A high fever had hit her that she couldn't leave her bed. Every now and then, she would puke out of anxiousness. Dozens of servants were taking care of her and a team of doctors was appointed by Shehryaar to look after her.

The tension and the excitement in the haveli was evident as  day and night, it was just chaos. Nobody could keep up with their routine given the wedding that was upon them. At different times at night, different designers would show up with the dresses. Hence, nobody had a proper sleep in these seven days.

The wedding day atlast arrived and Sheharzaad's fever had subsided yet the weakness was still there. The nikkah was at 6 in the evening and currently it was five. The haveli was flooded with the relatives who came to meet the family personally first and then drove towards the venue, which was a villa.

The haveli was beaming with voices as everyone was talking about the new couple, and the bride, her appearance, how would she look. While some girls couldn't help but get jealous of the bride as if she was stealing Shehryaar from them. There were kids playing around. Hide and seek, touch or tig, king-stop and many more. The waiters had infiltrated the whole area and were serving drinks and appetizers to the guests. The elders busy in their talks and the young ones busy in their bickering.

On the other hand, where everyone seemed jolly, Sheharzaad sat in her room as every now and then someone would come to meet her. She had clenched the bedsheet tightly. The make-up artist was done doing her make-up and now she was left alone in her room. Her one eye was on the clock and the other on the door. She knew they would soon be coming to take her to the nikkah ceremony and her heart couldn't stop shivering. She felt so gutted up. If not for the makeup her paled face would have been evident.  Her heart was drumming in her throat.

She had mentally prepared herself for this nikkah when she had said a 'yes' to him. She had accepted him and her fate then. She was ready to be his dutiful wife when she uttered that yes. She was aware nikkah was potent, sacred and she made up her mind to give her hundred percent in this relation. She had no other option than this. All the paths of her life led to him so it was better accept to what was written in the fate than to fight it.

Fight him...

There was no chance of that...

She gave him, her word.

And the word of Sheharzaad Qureshi was potent. She always meant what she said.

Always.

When the clock struck at 5:15 pm she heard footsteps approaching. She went breathless in seconds, little sobs emerging from the base of her throat.  She knew they were coming to take her. Her heart began to pound fast in her chest, her ribcage shifted up and then down due to her intense breaths.

The door to her room opened when Dua, Ammara and Asma came followed by his grandmother and a beautician as well.

Dua held a white colored folded dupatta made of net. She passed it to the beautician who fixed her make-up first and then sprawled that dupatta over her head forming a ghunghat (veil) infront her face.

"It's time," the grandmother said and she stood up, following them while Ammara and Asma helped her to carry her heavy dress and they headed towards a car which headed towards the venue. The drive was mostly them settling her appearance and asking about her health. Sheharzaad could just nod and reply back in as short responses as she could because her eyes were struck on the path that was leading her to Shehryaar. Her eyes didn't even blink. Her heart was beating like a drum in her ears as if it wanted to explode. Despite the air conditioner was on, her body was hot. And her breath stopped in her throat when they reached the place, the door was opened for her and she was led the way.

The place was flooded with guests. The security was high alert, packed with guards. Men from security administration were made to stand  at the entrance to confirm the guests that were coming were on the list or not. Many political and prominent figures of the country and underworld arrived too. The food wasn't served and so everyone was enjoying the drink being served to them. Sheharzaad could detect wine bottles placed at points and those political figures whom she saw at the television, passing resolutions to inhibit and suppress wine consumption, enjoying the drinks.

Sheharzaad wore a white colored lehnga with small diamonds embedded along the flayers of  the dress. Her hair were tied up in a beautiful bun tucked with lilies. Her makeup was soft and subtle, accentuating her features, especially her big grey eyes. Every eye turned towards her when she passed through the corridors and towards the front yard where the ceremony was going to take place. Everyone stopped to catch the glimpse of the bride and their mouth hung open in an awe, her beauty and simplicity attracting each being.

A special path was made for her as she walked along the other members towards her seat. With a single glance, she found him already seated there, waiting for him. He was wearing a black pant and coat, a grey waist coat underneath and a white shirt. His hair perfectly gelled back while his hand which was on his knee carried the ring which had his initials engraved in it.

S

She wondered why wasn't he wearing his traditional sherwaani.

Suits were his thing. But she was sure sherwaani would look good at him as well.

He carried every outfit with grace and charm.

Just like now.

Despite being evil, he still managed to look handsome. His piercing grey eyes struck on her as she approached him. That look in his eyes was what that had her unnerved.

She was able to read his intentions.

Maybe the night ahead would be a long night for her...

Soon she was made to sit on a chair infront Shehryaar. Long strands of flower acting as a wall, separated them, inhibiting their vision.

Sheharzaad's eye were down staring at anything but him. Sweat accumulated in her hands because of nervousness.

She was about to enter a new phase of her life. A phase which was going to be dark and depressing. A phase about which she always dreamt off.

While sitting in that chair, dressed as a bride but her soul shivering, it made her realized alot of things. There was a time in her life when she took pride in her beauty. Considered herself as the center of attention because of her beauty. Maybe it wasn't just pride, it had an element of arrogance as well.

Arrogance which led to....

Pride hath a fall.

She has now totally understood the meaning behind these words.

She stopped herself from digging past.

She always thought that her husband would be the most handsome person in this world. He would have a dashing personality, an eye turner.

And Shehryaar was everything she dreamt off. Rather excelled her expectations in looks and personality.

But her shaking soul reminded her that beauty never covers up anything. It will never cover up the evil, danger and the fear she was carrying for her future husband.

Her throat felt gutted and restricted that breathing was becoming difficult for her. It was one of the most difficult most difficult moment of her life.

Such anxiousness.

Such apprehension.

Such intense fear.

She never experienced.

Her eyes slightly moved up and caught his sight. His gaze was fixed on her. His eyes upon her was so intense that she instantly moved back her gaze towards her lap. Her hands slightly shivering.

He was staring at her as if there was no one else here, just her and him. His eyes had zeroed upon hers. As if the world didn't matter. Just her.

He exercised his dominance upon hers with a single stare.

When Shehryaar saw her-his bride, walking towards him, he could feel his heart skipping a beat. His eyes following every step of her until she reached and sat infront him. His gaze didn't leave her for a second. His hand itched to tear down the flowers that were restricting his vision. He never had wanted to take a look at her as much as he wished now. He wanted the nikkah to be done as soon as possible so he could take her to his room and steal her ability to walk.

It was hard for him to control himself now. Getting harder with every passing second. He wasn't aware but he had been waiting for this moment. Since the day his eyes settled on hers.

He never knew that one stare, one gaze, one look would lead to this marriage today.

All the while his gaze didn't waver and his eyes couldn't get weary of glancing at her.

There she sat, his wife to be.

The molvi (priest) was brought to the setting and was made to sit next to Sheharzaad.

She felt the life slowly evaporating from her body.

This was the moment.

She was going to give herself to him.

He would have every right over her after today.

He would become her husband.

"Do you Sheharzaad Qureshi, daughter of Murtaza Qureshi accepts Shehryaar Haider Syed son of Haider Shabbir Syed in your nikkah?" He asked.

Her lips ceased as she gulped. Sweat popping from the sides of her forehead. Her breathing becoming restrained. Her legs shivering.

A tear.

A tear made its way to her eye but she couldn't sob. Her voice was struck in her throat.

Gazillions of thoughts rushing in her mind, similar to the way the adrenaline was rushing in her veins. She went in a struck state. Her brain stopping its thinking process.

Her eyes moved towards Shehryaar whose eagle eyes were on her.

Still that piercing grey eyes didn't do anything to push that voice out stilled in the base of her throat. She tried to protrude the voice out of her system but she couldn't.

That fear she had for him was not helping. Her body needed something else more than just a mere intense fear.

'Yes....I agree to marry you,'

Her words.

The words he gave to her. They sprinted in her mind, causing her heart to beat as if it has stopped beating. The ear piercing sound drumming in her ears subsided as she looked back at the moulvi again, who was repeating the question for her.

He was in the middle of her question when she uttered, "qubool hai"

(I accept)

The question was repeated twice as her lips said in a shuddery whisper again, 'qubool hai,'

It was her principles, her moral values, the core values.

Her identity.

The true her.

The reformed her....after that one particular incident.

Which made her say yes. Which pushed that breath out of her throat and brought her back from the mind paralysis she was going through.

More than his fear, it was her values, which despite going through that mental torture still managed to remain with her.... which made her reach this decision.

She won't back off of her words.

The papers were passed towards her for signing and she held the pen. A finger pointed where she was suppose to sign and she placed the tip of then pen there. Her hands couldn't grasp the pen because of the ferocity of how her hands were shivering. Silent tears escaping from her eye as her petite frame shook with small hiccups.