Chapter 1 : Olive Green

The Sharma Sadan, itself decorated as bride, was now full of guests. Running kids, busy in their games; giggling girls, teasing boys; women, some making gossips, some making faces while some trying to show off their own accessories and men discussing the upcoming Parliament election.

Amid all this chaos there was our bride Gauri, tired of all the rituals since early morning, but still surrounded by relatives and friends, the aroma of raw henna mixed in air.

"Look Anika, what a dark color her Mehandi has got!" Roop BuaMa showed bride's hands to her daughter, while Gauri rolled her eyes on the excitement.

Well it was all a myth for her. The love, this marriage, the rituals.

"Seems her husband will love her a lot!" Another mid-age lady teased, while Gauri tried to withdraw hand from her grip. Faking to be blushing, she excused herself to go towards her room.

"She got shied!" They all laughed, while she could still hear them talking.

"I am happy that finally she is getting married in a decent family. I have been so worried when everyone was rejecting her!" Pinky Chachi said in a fake worry.

'Reject? My foot!' She hmphed.

Despite being a highly educated and civilized girl, she had to wait till 30 years of age to get a proper proposal. 'Because my father didn't have enough money to buy a good groom for me!' She thought about the dowry system grudgingly.

If it wasn't for her younger sister Bhavya, who was still to get married after her, she would have never agreed to this trade off. But the insistence of her parents and the pressure from society had worsened her worry.

As she passed by her parents' room she heard the angry voice of her mother.

"How could they do it Tej?" Jahnvi was holding her head, "Wasn't it all decided at the time of engagement?"

'At the time of engagement?' Gauri frowned as she put her ear more close to the door. 'Are they talking about the dowry?' She thought.

Gauri Kumari Sharma, the eldest daughter of Tej and Jahnvi Sharma, was a postgraduate in Banking & Finance and now working as Manager in a local Branch of a reputed Bank.

But in our society, marriages aren't based on degrees, it is framed on the filthiest system of dowries. Then it doesn't matter, whether bride is the daughter of a poor farmer or the princess of a royal empire.

'The more you are willing to pay, the better groom you'll get!' It is the unwritten rule of this business, which is called marriage in the language of Sociology.

The same thing happened with a retired lecturer Tej, who finally succumbing to society, decided to mortgage their home and arrange money for the dowry of his daughters.

"50 lakh in cash and 5 KGs of Gold jewellery, wasn't it too much that they are also demanding a four-wheeler!!" Gauri heard the frustrated voice of her mother, as she took a breath. 'A four-wheeler means a few lakhs more!'

"But we don't have any option Jahnvi..." Her father uttered, his voice full of worry, "...if they didn't find it by the time of Var-mala tomorrow, they will take back the Baraat!"

._._._.

Omkara parked his bike near the small gate of Sharma Sadan. 'The address seems to be correct!' He thought looking at the twinkling lights on the iron gate, as he removed the helmet.

Taking the bag in his hand he stopped the lady who seems to be the sister of bride, "Excuse me! Could you tell me where the room of bride is?" He mumbled while looking around, "Uh...I am from the costume designer, came for last minute customisation of the lehanga!" He elaborated.

Bhavya sighed as she glared at the man, "So now you got time to look into your clients!" Since last two days she had been asking the designer to send their assistant, "If we had known you are so unprofessional..."

"Ma'am, I don't have the whole night to stand here!" Om was irritated.

"Now you are being rude!!" She was going to charge another hurl of excuses before someone called her, making her convey the directions, "The first room on the second floor from right!"

Omkara ignored a frowning Bhavya, while moving towards the suggested room.

._._._.

Gauri rubbed her hands furiously as she tried to erase his name from her hands, hidden behind the artistic designs. She had been crying bitterly since last two hours.

'That scoundrel and his name doesn't deserve to be in my hands!' Tears were flowing without any barrier as she sniffed, hiccuping, biting her cheek to not get loud less the relatives will get alert.

She was feeling her heart squeeze. 'What will my Amma, Babuji do now?' She knew they would do something, maybe take some money out of that reserved for Bhavya to save the marriage.

'But I don't want that.'

She could imagine the pain of her parents, to give away their hard-earned money to some shameless people just because they had a son and her parents had the daughter.

'No, I can't let my parents get more worried!' She wiped her tears as she sat up straight. 'I myself will call off the marriage, better than succumb to their demands!' She decided but then the social stigma and the pain of her parents couldn't let her do it.

Feeling suffocated, she wanted to go outside as she stumbled on something, her razor kit. As she lifted it from floor, she saw the shaving blade in it.

'Won't it be a pleasant option to end myself?' She looked at the sharp metallic edge, feeling it above her wrist.

All the sorrow, all the stress would end it minutes and she would sink in an endless world, leaving behind all wordly relations.

'Just do it Gauri, a little more pressure, that's it!' She heard her consciousness.

But the rising temptation ended abruptly as someone snatched the razor from her hands. "Don't you dare!" She heard a deep husky voice.

She came out of her reverie as a tall masculine man was looking at her with shock, his eyes deep chocolates, filled with concern, slightly parted lips as he gulped the anxiety, the slight stubble looking prominent on his sweat-laden face, and not to forget those unruly hair, waving away from his mane, bound in a half-pony.

"What were you thinking?" He asked again to bring her back to the sense.

Her large brown eyes were swollen red, eye lashes still looking damp, the tears hadn't dried the pale face completely, while the cheeks and the small nose was all red due to her stress.

She was wearing a baby pink blouse ending just below her bosoms and the green lehanga starting just below her navel, sweeping the floor as she moved back, looking at him suspiciously, pushing the stubborn bangs behind her ear.

"Who are you? How did you enter my room!" She tried to sound firm, "Don't you know to knock the door before barging in a girl's room like this!"

Om in reply just stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I asked who are you!" She asked again then she realized something, "Are you that famous thief who is roaming in our city now-a-days!" She widened her eyes on her own sentence, and was about to shout for help as he shut her mouth with his palm.

"Shut up! Don't you have a mouth filter!" Omkara was tired by her rant, "And no need to call your family. They won't be much amused to know that the would-be-bride, was attempting to kill herself!" He answered back, leaving her mouth as he locked the door behind him.

"You are blackmailing me! Who the fuck are you?" She was annoyed on the audacity of this stranger.

"Don't stress. I am the assistant designer of your wedding lehanga!" He threw the blade in the dustbin, "I am sent to check the last time customization!" He started opening the measuring bag, removing his accessories.

"No need of all this!" She said coldly, remembering her resolve to break the marriage, "Just get out of here!" The squeezing feeling was back but she controlled herself, turning her back to him.

He stared at the smooth skin of her back, tied by just one strap of her back-less choli.

"I can't go back without completing my task!" He mumbled, "I am paid for it!"

"Can't you understand you moron?" She was getting irritated as he continued his work not paying any attention to her. "Here my marriage is on stake and you want to fucking measure my body!"

"I don't want to fuck, I am just here to measure!" He answered seriously as he checked something in his notebook.

"Are you serious?" She was annoyed on his ignorance as she clutched his wrist and about to drag him out when he pinned back her to the door.

"Look ma'am, just cooperate ok!" He pulled back his hand from her grip trapping her between his hands, "Otherwise I'll tell everyone what you were doing few minutes ago!"

Gauri was bewildered but his warning did good on her to not utter any word.

They were still in same position as he looked at her pink fuller lips, their bodies inches apart and breaths mingling.

"I'll bring the moderating tape!" He went back to table where his things were kept while she moved towards her dressing table wiping her face dry.

"Take this, you'll feel fresh!" He offered a glass of orange juice, kept in her dinner tray, which she took silently. 'I really need to think straight, to come out of this problem!' She thought about her greedy fiancé, gulping the juice, which indeed soothed her body.

"You mentioned that the choli is too loose?" He read, his eyes on the notebook, the tape dragged around her midriff, without looking at her.

Gauri felt goosebumps when his fingers touched the skin just below her blouse. Her wide eyes were engraved on his face while he was all professional, not even flinching a bit.

"The length was also mentioned to be too short! But ma'am long choli won't suit your figure!" He explained with a poker face.

"Just fucking do what you want!" Her voice was not coming that firm, maybe the closeness of this handsome hunk affecting her.

Omkara shook his head on her colourful language as he turned her around and she felt her breaths fastening as he measured the back length. 'Am I really feeling his breath too close on my nape or it's just my imagination!' Her eyes were blurry due to constant crying as she saw their reflection in mirror.

"The request to replace the knot with just one hook will be done!" He whispered in her ears as he looked into the mirror, meeting her eyes.

Gauri had forgotten everything about the wedding and her resolve when she saw a hint of desire in his eyes, before he averted his eyes to the floor.

"You want the lehanga above or below the navel?" Om asked confused on what was written.

Gauri sighed this time, surprised at her reaction to him as she felt her head going heavy, 'Must be due to crying!' She might need an aspirin.

Getting no answer from him he pursed his lips in a thin line as he bent down, putting the tape from her ankle to up covering the length of her lehanga until he reached the navel. "It will look good if it ended just above navel, will add length to your body!" He suggested.

"Do you want to imply that I am short?" She asked out of blue, making him look at her as he raised himself.

"You ARE short!" He said in an obvious tone as he moved aside towards the table. His task was done, and had to go report back before he felt himself tugged back using the collar.

Gauri pushed him on the chair as she put her mehandi-clad hands on the either sides, bending down a little, "How dare you call me short?" Her voice was a bit slurry.

Her head was becoming more heavy while she felt her balance going off as she clutched his hair to get support while his hands made way to her waist, to steady her disoriented body.

They were too close for comfort as she looked into his eyes, "Do you know, they want more dowry, they have demanded a four-wheeler car? If my Babuji didn't fulfill it, they will take away Baraat!" Her face was red, "and you think I am short!" She was going hysterical, taking long breaths, "Do you have any idea what is happening???" Her crying session was going to start again, the drunken state affecting her.

But before she could utter one more word, Om moved his hand under her round butt, and within span of a second she was on his lap, his mouth finding her sexy lips, making her shut for the moment.

._._._.

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Mature part coming ahead😜.