The days after Karwachauth were quieter, but the silence often brought its own weight. Divyansh endured his grandmother’s biting remarks with practiced resilience. Compared to the wounds left by his parents’ words, Dadi’s constant reminders of his perceived inadequacies were tolerable, though they still cut deep. Despite the efforts of the other family members to shield him, they couldn’t always succeed.

Time trudged forward, and soon, the preparations for Diwali were in full swing. It was a crisp, sunny Sunday morning when Maa decided it was time for shopping.

Maa, sitting comfortably in the armchair in the living room, called out, “Divya beta, aaj Ashwin ke saath jaake yeh saman le aao.” She handed him a list with a smile. (Divya, go with Ashwin today and get these stuff.)

Ashwin, lounging lazily on the couch, glanced at the list. His expression soured. “Nope, I’m not going,” he declared with exaggerated finality.

Maa’s eyes narrowed. “Aur kyun nahi jayega?” (And why are you not going?)

“I have other plans,” Ashwin replied casually, clearly not taking her irritation seriously.

“Shopping ke baad chale jaana,” Maa retorted, unwilling to relent. (Go after shopping.)

Before Ashwin could argue further, Dadi entered the room, her tulsi mala rolling rhythmically between her fingers.

“Main akele chali jaungi, Maa,” Divyansh interrupted softly, his docile voice barely rising above the tension. “Koi baat nahi, aap chinta mat kijiye.” (Maa, I will go alone. It's okay, you don't have to worry about it.)

Maa was having none of it. “Tu chup reh! Yeh gadha jayega tere saath!” she snapped, glaring at Ashwin. (Keep quiet! This idiot is going with you!(

Dadi, who had been quietly observing, decided to intervene. “Arre, jane de na usse akele! Jab wo bol rahi hai ke wo chali jayegi, toh Ashwin ko pareshan kyun kar rahi hai?” Her voice carried a sharp edge of annoyance. “Wese bhi, sara din karti kya hai yeh ladki? Subah muh uthake college chali jaati hai, shaam ko aake padhne baith jaati hai, phir peet bhar ke khaana khati hai aur sone chali jaati hai. Bhagwan jaane yeh mere Ashwin ko khush bhi kar paati hai ya nahi…” she muttered under her breath. (Hey, let her go alone! When she is telling that she can go alone, why are you disturbing Ashwin? Nevertheless, what work does this girl do the entire day? She goes to college in the morning, then has her fill in the evening and goes to sleep. God knows if she is even able to satisfy my Ashwin or not...)

Divyansh, who had grown accustomed to such comments, lowered his head, hands trembling slightly. “Maa, main akele chali jaungi,” he repeated, voice even quieter. “Aap chinta mat kijiye.” (Maa, I will go alone. It's okay, you don't have to worry about it.)

Ashwin, despite his earlier reluctance, felt a pang of guilt. He hated seeing Dadi unfairly berate Divyansh for things beyond his control.

“Maa, main jaunga Divya ke saath,” Ashwin said suddenly, standing up. “List dijiye.” (Maa, I will go with Divya. Give me the list.)

Divyansh looked up, startled. “Aapko sach mein jaane ki zarurat nahi hai,” he murmured hesitantly. “Aapko aur bhi zaruri kaam honge.” (You really don't need to come with me. You must have other important work.)

Maa, sensing the shift in Ashwin’s tone, handed him the list with a smile, though her eyes flicked briefly to Dadi, silently cursing her for her harshness.

“It’s no problem, Diya,” Ashwin said gently, slipping the list into his pocket. “I wasn’t doing anything important. Chale?” He stood, ready to leave. (Let's go?)

Divyansh nodded, adjusting his pallu nervously. “Ji,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Before stepping out, he bent to touch Dadi and Maa’s feet, a quiet display of respect ingrained in him despite everything. (Yes.)

Dadi’s glare followed them as they left, her disapproval radiating through the room. But Ashwin shot her a pointed glance, silently telling her to back off.

As they stepped into the sunlight, Divyansh felt a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, guilt, and the faintest glimmer of hope. Though the day had begun with tension, Ashwin’s small gesture reminded him that he wasn’t completely alone in this household.

The drive to the market was long, the infamous Mumbai traffic stretching their patience. Divyansh sat quietly, occasionally urging Ashwin to drop him off at the nearest bus stand and go about his day. Ashwin, however, ignored his protests, keeping his eyes on the road and his mind set on finishing the shopping list.

After thirty minutes, they finally reached the bustling marketplace. The air was thick with chatter, the smell of street food mingling with the faint scent of damp earth from the recent drizzle.

Ashwin unfolded the shopping list from his pocket, scanning the items. “Pehle lights lene hai,” he said, his tone brisk. His eyes scanned the shops around them until he spotted one. “Wo rahi dukan. Chalo.” (We have to get lights first. There's the shop. Come on.)

Divyansh nodded, walking a step behind Ashwin. The narrow pathways were crowded, the ground slippery and muddy. Divyansh treaded carefully, his pace slower than Ashwin’s.

Ashwin, unaware of the difficulty Divya faced, tore through the crowd, weaving through people with ease. It wasn’t until he reached the shop that he realized Divya was no longer behind him. Turning around, his heart sank—he saw nothing but a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“Divya?” he called out, his voice rising with urgency. Panic began to settle in as he retraced his steps, his eyes darting through the throng of people. “Divya!”

Meanwhile, Divyansh was lost in the crowd, his chest tightening as he looked around helplessly. “Hey Bhagwaan, ab main kya karun? Woh kahan chale gaye?!” His voice quivered, his hands trembling as he clutched the edge of his pallu. (Oh God, what should I do now? Where did he go?!)

Ashwin’s panic intensified until, through the moving crowd, he finally spotted her—a lone figure, standing in the middle of the chaos, looking utterly lost. Relief washed over him like a wave. “Divya!” he called, rushing toward her.

Divyansh turned at the sound of his voice, her wide, tear-filled eyes meeting his. Before she could say anything, he reached her, checking her over for injuries. “Tum thik ho? Gir to nahi gayi thi na?” His hands hovered around her shoulders, his voice shaky with concern. (Are you okay? Did you fall down?)

Divyansh couldn’t hold back. He stepped forward and hugged him tightly, his body trembling in his grasp. “M-mujhe maaf kar dijiye,” she stammered. “Aap itni jaldi chale gaye, phir mujhe dikhai nahi diye, toh main dar gayi…” Her words came out in a rush, barely coherent through her trembling. (P-please forgive me. You walked away so fast, then I lost sight of you and got scared.)

Ashwin, overwhelmed by relief, pulled her closer, shielding her from the jostling crowd. He gently guided her to the side, away from the chaos. His hands moved to her back, patting it softly in an attempt to comfort her. “Main to dar gaya tha ke tumhe kuch ho gaya hai,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with guilt. “Maaf kar do mujhe. Piche mud ke dekhna chahiye tha.” (I was scared that something might have happened to you. Please forgive me. I should have turned back to check on you.)

Divyansh didn’t reply, instead sinking into his embrace, his breathing still uneven but slowly calming. The warmth of his hold and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothed his frayed nerves.

For a few moments, they stayed like that, finding solace in each other amid the cacophony of the marketplace.

After the incident at the market, Ashwin made a silent promise to himself. He held Divyansh’s hand firmly for the rest of their shopping trip, never letting it go for a moment. Together, they bought everything on the list—lights, candles, diyas, decorations, and flowers—navigating the crowded streets as a team.

With the market done, they headed to the mall to buy clothes.

Divyansh led the way into a saree shop, his eyes lighting up as he browsed through the colorful displays. “Let’s get new sarees for Maa, Chachi, and Dadi,” he said with enthusiasm.

Ashwin followed, watching her sift through the rows of fabric with precision. “Kuch pasand aaya?” he asked, leaning casually against a rack. (Did you get something you like?)

Divyansh held up a cream-colored tussar silk saree, his eyes soft with thought. “Yeh Dadi pe suit karegi na?” he asked, tilting his head slightly for his opinion. (Won't this suit Dadi?)

Ashwin paused, his heart tugging. "Dadi thume itna kuch bolti hai, phir bhi tum ho jo idhar unke liye saree dekh rahi ho. Kya karoon main tumhara?", he thought. He shook his head slightly, smiling. “Haan, kaafi sundar hai. To yeh wali le lein?” (Dadi berets you so much and you are still searching for a saree for her. What should I do with you?) (Yes, it's very beautiful. So, should we take this one?)

He nodded. “Haan! Ab Maa aur Chachi ke favorite colors kaunse hain?” he asked, already scanning the shelves for options. (Yes! Now what are the favourite colours of Maa and Chachi?)

Ashwin chuckled, impressed by her focus. “Tumhe unke liye kuch pasand aa raha hai?” (Did you select anything for them?)

“Haan!” He picked out a rich burgundy saree. “Yeh Maa ke liye perfect hai.” Then, he held up a navy-blue saree with gold detailing. “Aur yeh Chachi ke liye.” (Yes! This is perfect for Maa. And this is for Chachi.)

(This is for Maa)

(This is for Chachi)

Ashwin smiled as she carefully examined every detail of the sarees. “Bhot badiya. To phir yahi final hua.” He took the chosen sarees from her and placed them in their basket. (Very good. So, these are the final ones.)

Divyansh clapped his hands lightly, satisfied. “Humara yahan ka kaam ho gaya! Ab kurta shopping chalte hain.” He skipped over to the register, hopping into the line while Ashwin stood behind him. (Our work here is done! Let's go kurta shopping now )

But Ashwin wasn’t quite done. Quietly excusing himself, he slipped away to another section of the store. He had something else in mind.

He browsed for a few minutes before selecting two sarees for her. The first was a delicate pastel blue that he knew would highlight her natural beauty. The second was a striking wine-red saree, one he’d chosen with another purpose in mind. Instead of taking the blouse provided with the red saree, he selected a custom-designed blouse that would make it even more elegant. With his purchases in hand, he returned to her just as their turn at the register arrived.

“Aap kahan the? Humara number aane hi waala hai!” Divyansh pouted, his lips forming a small curve as he folded his arms in mock annoyance. (Where were you? Our turn is about to come!)

Ashwin hid a smile, amused by her reaction. “Kuch nahi. Bas tumhare liye ek saree le raha tha,” he said nonchalantly, placing the basket on the counter. (Nothing. I was just getting a saree for you.)

Divyansh blinked, surprised. “Uski kya zaroorat thi? Mere paas bohot saari naye saree hain… Mere upar paise kyun barbaad kar rahe hain?” he asked, frowning as the employee began packing their items. (What was the need for that? I have many new sarees to wear... Why are you wasting your money on me?)

Ashwin leaned closer, his tone soft but firm. “To kya ab main apni biwi ke liye saree bhi nahi le sakta?” His eyes held a teasing glint. “Aur tumhe kisne kaha ki main tumpe paise barbaad kar raha hoon? Tum meri biwi ho. Mere upar poora haq banta hai tumhara.” (So now I can't get a saree for my wife? And who told you that I am wasting my money on you? You are my wife. You have every right over me.)

Before Divyansh could argue further, Ashwin handed his card to the employee. He also requested the wine-red saree be packed in a separate bag, keeping his second gift a secret for now.

Divyansh bit his lip, his cheeks warming at his words. He turned away slightly, watching as the employee packed their purchases, but his heart fluttered at Ashwin’s quiet care.

As they walked out of the store, their hands instinctively found each other again. For Divyansh, it was more than a shopping trip—it was a reminder that, despite everything, Ashwin was her steadfast companion in a world that often felt unkind.

(These are the sarees Ashwin chose for Divya)

Divyansh, still a blushing mess, dragged Ashwin to the kurta shop. He avoided his gaze, not saying a word, as his cheeks flamed with embarrassment. He had heard the muffled snickers from the saree shop staff and patrons after Ashwin’s teasing comment, and it made him want to disappear.

Ashwin, oblivious to the teasing atmosphere he had created, followed her with a mischievous grin. “Toh ab kya lena hai?” he asked, breaking the silence. (Now what should we take?)

Divyansh thrust a navy kurta into his hands, his expression unreadable, and motioned him toward the changing rooms. Turning back to the shop employee, he resumed his conversation as if nothing had happened.

Having no choice, Ashwin stepped into the changing room. After a few minutes, he stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of the kurta. “Divya, kaisa lag raha hai?” he called out, looking for her. (Divya, how am I looking?)

(Ashwin's kurta)

Divyansh turned toward him, his words catching in his throat as his gaze landed on him. The dark navy kurta fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame. His heart skipped a beat, and he gulped audibly, spellbound.

Ashwin noticed her dazed look and waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Kya hua? Accha nahi lag raha kya? Kuch aur try karun?” he asked, his tone teasing. ( What happened? Am I not looking good? Should I try something else?)

Divyansh shook his head quickly, heis cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink. “K-kuch zyada hi a-achche lag rahe hai,” he mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. (Y-you are looking v-very handsome.)

Ashwin smirked, his grin growing wider at her unfiltered response. “Accha, kuch zyada hi accha lag raha hoon? Toh phir yeh wala le lu?” (Oh, very handsome? So should I take this one?)

Divyansh nodded, biting his lower lip nervously. He handed him another kurta he had picked in the meantime. “Y-yeh waala Dewar ji ke liye?” (T-this one for Dewar ji?)

(Arthit's kurta)

Ashwin took the kurta and examined it. “Haan, yeh toh perfect hai. Color bhi suit karega.”
Divyansh's voice was hesitant, "Yeh waala papa ke liye?" as he showed him another. Ashwin placed it in the shopping basket. “Papa ko yeh design bohot pasand aayega,” he added. (Yes, this is perfect. The colour will suit him.) (How about this one for Papa?) ( Papa is going to love this design.)

(For papa)

(For chachaji)

Divyansh smiled faintly and showed him another kurta. “Aur yeh waala Chacha ji ke liye choose kiya hai.” (And I chose this for Chacha ji.)

Ashwin glanced at it and grinned cheekily. “Yeh toh aur bhi sahi rahega. Chachu aur Chachi dono match karenge! Chachu ko toh twin karna bohot pasand hai.” (This is even better. Chacha and Chachi will be twinning! Chachu loves twinning.)

Divyansh blushed furiously. “Unko mat chhedna. Chachi baadmein mujhe daantengi!” he warned, his tone half-pleading. (Don't tease them. Chachi will scold me later.)

“Accha, theek hai, nahi chhedunga,” Ashwin said with exaggerated innocence. “Lekin thoda toh chalega na? Please?” He made an innocent puppy face, which almost made her laugh. (Okay, I won't tease them. But a little bit surya right? Please?)

Divyansh huffed. “Jo mann hoga kijiye. Saza toh mujhe hi milegi na, aapko kya?” Hhe turned away, picking up the kurtas and heading toward the checkout. (Do whatever you want. After all I will be punished, what does this have to do with you?)

Ashwin quickly changed back into his own clothes and caught up to her at the counter. “Accha baba, nahi chhedunga Chachu ko. Ab toh maan jao,” he pleaded, but Divyansh refused to look at him, letting out an indignant “hmmph.” (Okay dear, I won't tease chachu. Please don't be angry any longer.)

“Please maan jao na. Dekho, iske baad golgappe khane chalenge,” Ashwin tried again, his tone dripping with charm. (Please forgive me. See, we can go to have golgappe after shopping.)

Divyansh ignored him, now more interested in paying for the kurtas. He casually handed over the same card he’d used earlier in the saree shop, refusing to let him win so easily.

Ashwin wasn’t ready to give up. “Tum bolo toh ice cream bhi khane chalenge. Kaisa laga plan?” (If you want, we can go to have icecream too. How's the plan?)

Pretending to think, Divyansh gave him a pointed look. “Mujhe Creamstone jaana hai,” he said, his tone decisive. (I wanna go to Creamstone.)

Ashwin’s face lit up in relief. “Theek hai, madam ji! Abhi chal rahe hain Creamstone,” he said eagerly, urging the employee to pack the kurtas quickly. (Alright, madam ji. We are going to Creamstone right now.)

As they left the store, Divyansh laid down his conditions. “I want a Chunky Monkey and a Nutella Fudge Cake,” he warned, fully aware of the sugar rush that would follow.

Ashwin laughed. “Jo marzi ho, madam ji. Bas khush raho.” He grabbed the bags and her hand, leading her straight to the Creamstone store in the mall. (Whatever you want, madam ji. I only want you to be happy.)

For Divyansh, this shopping trip, despite its embarrassing moments, had turned into something unexpectedly sweet.

Ashwin and Divyansh entered the Creamstone store, the smell of waffle cones and fresh toppings filling the air. Divyansh’s eyes sparkled as he scanned the menu, his earlier embarrassment momentarily forgotten.

“Ek Chunky Monkey aur ek Nutella Fudge Cake,” he told the cashier confidently. (One Chunky Monkey and one Nutella Fudge Cake.)

Ashwin, leaning casually on the counter, couldn’t hide his grin. “Aur mere liye Mango Berry Delight,” he added, keeping it simple. (And one Mango Berry Delight for me.)

Once their orders were ready, they found a cozy corner in the shop. Divyansh wasted no time digging into his ice cream, his expression lighting up as the first bite melted in his mouth.

Ashwin chuckled, watching her with open fondness. She was entirely absorbed in her desserts, switching between the Chunky Monkey and the Nutella Fudge Cake like a child who couldn’t decide which was better.

“Tum ice cream khaane mein expert ho,” Ashwin teased, resting his chin on his hand as he admired her. (You're an expert at eating ice-cream.)

Divyansh paused mid-bite, his spoon still in his mouth. He gave him a playful glare, his cheeks puffed slightly from the ice cream. “Kya?” he mumbled around the spoon. (What?)

Ashwin laughed, shaking his head. “Kuch nahi. Bas tumhe dekh raha hoon. Tumhari khushi dekh ke lagta hai ki mujhe ab roz tumhe ice cream khilana padega.” (Nothing. I'm just watching you. After seeing you so happy, I feel like I should get you ice cream every single day.)

He rolled his eyes, focusing back on his dessert. But the blush on his cheeks betrayed him. “Aap bhi khao na,” he said, gesturing towards his untouched Mango Berry Delight. (You should eat too.)

“Main toh kha raha hoon,” he said, taking a deliberate bite while still watching her demolish her desserts with unabashed glee. “Par tumhaari speed ke aage main toh haarta hoon.” (I am eating too, but it is nothing in front of your speed.)

Divyansh finished his first cup and quickly moved on to the Nutella Fudge Cake, his eyes sparkling with childlike excitement as he savored the gooey chocolate. Ashwin leaned back, his arms crossed, unable to take his eyes off her.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he accused, noticing his amused expression.

Ashwin smirked. “Bilkul. Tumhe itne relaxed aur khush dekhna accha lagta hai.” He reached forward and wiped a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her lips with his thumb. “Tumhare iss bache jaise andaaz ka ek alag hi charm hai.” (Of course. You look lovely when you are relaxed and happy. Your childlike habits have a charm of their own...)

Divyansh froze, his blush intensifying. “M-main bachchi nahi hoon,” he muttered, looking down at his dessert. (I- I am not a kid.)

“Main kab keh raha hoon ke tum bachchi ho? Main toh bas keh raha hoon ke tum aise hi cute lagti ho,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made his heart skip a beat. (When did I say that you are a kid. I just said that you look cute like this.)

Ashwin’s gentle teasing, paired with his admiring gaze, left Divyansh flustered but oddly comforted. He focused on finishing his dessert, hoping his flushed cheeks would go unnoticed.

As they finished their treats and left the store, Divyansh walked a little closer to Ashwin, his earlier annoyance forgotten. For Ashwin, the trip had been worth every moment, not just for the shopping, but for the pure joy of seeing his wife so happy.

AUTHORS' NOTE:

Guys, please do show support to my other stories too.

Enjoy, Adiraj and Priya.