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Author's POV:-

Next morning they all got up early as the entire family is going to the temple for doing puja.

So as a result mandir means wearing saree. So Kavita has given a red saree to Saanvi saying that she could  wear it to mandir.

‘Saanvi beta aj yeh saree pehankar mandir mein jaana..tum par bohut achi lagegi’ Kavita asked, handing her the saree.

Saanvi nods her head taking the saree but inside, she is feeling tensed as its a new saree.

No doubt the saree is beautiful but you now new sarees is more difficult to wear than a regular saree and she can't wear it alone.

Saanvi POV:-

‘Kya karu ab?? Mein toh akeli saree bhi nahi pehan sakti aur upar se yeh toh ekdum nayi h jo or bhi difficult h pehanna’ I whisper looking at the golden border of the saree.

‘Yash rehata toh mujhe zarur help karta woh..par woh market gaye hai papa k sath puja k items laane’ I sighed left from my mouth as I reached my phone.

YouTube videos.

Author's POV:-

It had been twenty long, frustrating minutes of Saanvi trying to drape the saree, each attempt ending in failure.

“Yeh pleats toh ache se ban hi nahi rahi!” she muttered in exasperation, rewinding the video for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Mom ko bulao kya?” she whispered, a hint of hope in her voice, wishing for a savior in this saree-draping dilemma.

She walked over to her room’s door and called for Kavita, who appeared in moments, eyes narrowing at Saanvi’s plea.

“Mom, mujhe na yeh pleats ban nahi rahi… kya aap meri help kar denge isme thoda?” Saanvi’s voice was soft, her innocence palpable as she gestured to the fabric.

Kavita’s expression shifted from surprise to disbelief.

“Tujhse ek saree nahi pehni jaa rahi?” she exclaimed, a hint of annoyance lining her words.

Embarrassed, Saanvi shook her head, eyes lowering.

“Woh bas nayi saree h na isliye thodi dikkat..” she trailed off, her voice barely audible.

Kavita let out a small, mocking laugh.

“Tujhse saree kya, ek bhi ghar ka kaam bhi nahi hoti” she remarked, making Saanvi’s cheeks flush with embarrassment.

With an impatient sigh, Kavita began demonstrating the pleats, her movements brisk and almost dismissive.

“Pata nahi Yash ne kya dekhi tujhme… tere maike walo ne toh ek saree pehanne bhi nahi sikhaya tujhe,” Kavita muttered, rolling her eyes.

Saanvi’s heart tightened at the sting of those words.

The subtle insult, not just to her but to her family, cut deep. She blinked rapidly, trying to push down the tears that threatened to spill.

“Ab toh kar payegi na?” Kavita’s tone was sharp.

Saanvi swallowed the ache in her throat and nodded weakly.

“Haan mom, samajh gayi… thank you,” she whispered, even though she hadn’t fully grasped the hurried instructions.

The moment Kavita left, the floodgates opened. Silent tears streamed down her face as she clutched the saree, feeling a wave of inadequacy wash over her.

“Kuch nahi aati mujhe… na saree pehenna, na ache se khana banana..sab kuch gadbad kar deti hu” she sobbed, one hand wiping her tears while the other gathered the loose fabric.

Suddenly, she felt a warm hand gently take the saree from her grasp. She gasped, startled, as it was pulled from her waist, leaving her in just her blouse and petticoat.

She turned slightly, tears still trickling, only to see Yash standing there.

“Phone kyu nahi kiya, Saanjh? Itni takleef kyun li, main hoon na tumhe help karne ke liye,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring as he bent to her waist level.

'Tum bahar gaye thein na ..kaise karu phone' she said in a broken voice.

‘Idhar mere paas aao’ he said, pulling her more closer.

Saanvi’s eyes welled up again. “Ek saree bhi pehenni nahi aati mujhe… dekho na, baar baar khul jaa rahi h kamar se,” she whispered, her frustration evident.

“Shh, it’s okay, my love. Sab log sab kuch mein perfect nahi hote. Yeh baar baar isliye khul rahe he kyunki tumne petticoat ka knot tight nahi baandha” he explained, tying the knot once again and this time more tightly.

“Chalo, now wear your heels so that I can adjust the length of the saree,” he instructed, holding out her heels with a gentle smile.

Saanvi’s eyes softened as she watched him work. “Tum kitna kuch janta ho,” she said getting awe..

Yash smiled, pressing a soft kiss to both of her eyes and red puffy nose .

“Haan, toh tumhare liye hi toh sikha hoon… aage kaha kuch pata tha in sab cheezon ke baare mein,” he said, securing the pleats and pinning the pallu in place.

"‘Dekho toh kaise pehnaya hu?’ Yash said, positioning her in front of the mirror with a proud smile.

A wide grin spread across her face as she took in the sight of the perfectly draped saree. The delicate fabric hugged her form gracefully, a testament to his attentive touch.

‘Bahut acha pehnaya hai tumne... ekdum pro artist ke jaise,’ she said, her eyes glistening with admiration as she turned to face him.

Yash stepped closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper as his warm breath brushed against her ear,

‘Mein toh dono cheez mein hi pro hu.’

She frowned, a playful confusion creasing her brows. ‘Kaunse dono cheez?’

‘Saree pehnane mein bhi aur kholne mein bhi,’ he winked, slipping his arm around her bare waist, the heat of his touch sending a shiver down her spine.
He kissed her neck in response.

Her eyes widened as she gasped, pushing him away with mock indignation. ‘Yashhh!’

He chuckled, tugging her back into his arms and gently brushing her nose with his.

‘Yeh toh tum bhi mana nahi kar sakti... I have shown you numerous times in our practical sessions,’ he teased, the memory bringing a deep blush to her cheeks.

She looked down, her lashes fluttering over rosy cheeks, ‘Bas ab, bahut hua. Taiyar ho jao... jaane ka samay ho rahi hai.’

He flashed a smile, full of mischief and affection.

‘Ji madam,’ he said with a playful salute, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her forehead before stepping away.

As he walked out, her smile faltered, her heart tugging at the sight of his retreating figure.

‘Aap mere liye kitna kuch karte hain Yash... aur yaha mujhe dekhiye ek bac---,’ she whispered, her voice soft and tinged with guilt.

She stopped herself abruptly, knowing that if he ever heard her self-reproach, his anger would burn as fiercely as his love.

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