Five Weeks by Shruti Omar (any book recommendations .txt) 📕

'Did you think of something?'

Anahita typed with urgency and left a message for Mukund before joining her family in the intensive work of finalizing invites for the wedding. She was past the phase where she would beg her father to meet Mukund or at least try to know him. Her eyes caught the glimpse of square shaped cobalt blue invite which had a peacock theme and was customized with the satin ribbon and a crest of their initials on the top. She plopped on the U shaped, buttoned couch nestled between two over giddy cousins. Her eyes were flapping on her cellphone every now and then but Mukund didn't reply back. 

Time was slipping from her fisted palms like silicon particles and a very less amount was left there. She hadn't made any sort of advancement in the way of her liberation. She was lost in her world, zoning out her extended family and brought her knees closer to her chest, mentally cringing at their buzzing excitement of selecting an invite. She curbed the urge to gag and point out that these invites were useless since she wouldn't marry Yuvraaj.

It reminded her of him, Yuvraaj Chaitanya Prakash - the guy claimed to have the most handsome face in her acquaintance and who never gave up on any opportunity to make her feel inferior. He was engaged to her since she opened her eyes first time in the world. She could've forgotten her age or her name but not the fact that she was fated to get married to Yuvraaj owing to some stupid promises their parents' had made to each other. Her parents adored him and he clearly took advantage of it. He always bossed her, his dominance made him prick in her eyes. She couldn't forget the marriage thing because the sadist buffoon was always there to remind her. He intruded her life without her permission and kept buzzing in her ear that she was his prospective wife.

Anahita was always against it but the trumpet of rejection fell in deaf ears, for everyone was very pleased with this alliance, including Yuvraaj's parents and the devil himself but deep down, she had faith in her stars that one day she would be able to untethered herself from his claws.

On a relative note, her sanguinity fell into a bottomless pit when her dad announced her official engagement with Yuvraaj a month back and she was engaged. Woeful, she rubbed the throbbing nerve on her forehead and rested her head against the headrest, seeking peace. She closed her eyes and steeled herself for the ensuing torture from the 'most eligible bachelor' as her family had tagged him.

'Most eligible! My foot.' She fleered, 'I will die but I will never marry him. I refuse to be a slave.'

She screwed up her face as the annoying buzzer of her cellphone reached her earshot. Still having her eyes closed, she flattened out her palm, "Aai, hand me my cellphone!"

She opened one eye to peek at the screen and rolled her eyes as she noticed it was not Mukund but Yuvraaj. Without waiting for a heartbeat, she slid the phone icon to red and cut the call, tossing the cellphone leisurely back on the sofa. She resumed to her previous position. Her cellphone beeped again. This time it was a message from him. She opened the inbox and clicked on the unread text. 'Don't choose a tacky invite alike you. Send me a snap as soon as you're done selecting.'

Her jaw clenched and she typed furiously, 'Die before getting married to me.' She was tempted to incorporate a few slangs but she knew better of it. As soon as her thumb pressed the send option, she was greeted with a reply in less than a minute.

'Then my ghost will marry you and torture you for whole life. Trust me, mou, it's more painful to live with a ghost.'

"Moron!" Anahita screamed, gathering attention from her family. She unfurled from the sofa and wore her flipflops, "I'm heading to my room already." 

"Woah...but cards? Don't you wish to choose one?" Her mom asked. She stopped to pass a mocking look at her mom, "Mom, you've chosen my groom with my consent and it's just a card. Choose whichever you like, I am fine with it." Anahita scoffed, receiving glares from her mother and gave a small shrug, padding to the staircase that led to her room after a narrow corridor. 

'I was expecting a reply.' Her cellphone beeped with Yuvraaj's text again, 

'Does my suffering provide you oxygen?' She typed.

'Your scrunched up face provides me satisfaction.' His shameless reply came. Kicking the floor in agitation, she slumped down on the plush rug spread neatly in her room and rested her head on the mattress, staring the pale white ceiling. Her hands shot up to cover her face, "I wish you could understand me, dad."

And the farrago slides of past spinned before her eyes.

"Dad, please please meet him. Just once please!" Anahita followed her father to his study which was an eight by eight room comprising three display cabinets of books, a Chesterfield sofa, a set of wooden chairs and a glass table installed before the sofa. It was given a touch of early ninetees with a golden gramophone situated proudly near the window.

"Stop playing like a broken record, Anu. Once I said no, it means no." Mr. Maurya said sternly.

"But why?" She whined, "Dad, how can you determine that Mukund is not a good guy without meeting him?"

"Same goes for you." Mr. Maurya glanced at her before producing himself with the copy of 'War as I saw it' and made himself comfortable on the sofa. "How can you determine that Yuvraaj is not good for you?"

"Because I know him." She rolled her eyes, "Even better than you do. I have known him since my childhood."

Mr. Maurya hid a smile. Yuvraaj was mischievous and dominating in childhood, always running after his little girl and that made Anahita conclude that he would-be grownup graduating not only in academics but also in his arrogance.