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Dad’s gaze finally lands on me.
“He isn’t replacing your guards, and you don’t need to worry. Trisha is an ex-RAW agent, and she knows her job well.”
Dad appears to be taken aback by Trisha’s introduction, especially when he hears that she used to work for RAW. However, he soon relaxes and offers a smile.
“One day of being married to him, and you’re already arguing with your father?” he playfully mutters.
I understand his teasing tone, and before I can respond, he cups my face tenderly and places a loving kiss on my forehead.
“I’ll start calling him by his name from now on if that’s what you want. Happy?” he asks.
I just keep gazing at him.
“You know I’d do anything for my daughter, even if it means showing some respect to the man she married. I never want to upset you,” he says, his affection for me shining through his words.
Once again, I find myself unable to speak. His love for me is immeasurable. Then why did he still keep me in the dark?
“Uncle, let’s finish with the rituals first, then we can chat as much as we want with Meher,” Devika bhabhi intervenes.
Dad nods in agreement and leads me to the couch. I take a seat while Dad settles into the sofa opposite me. Bhabhi gets the puja thali (prayer plate) and lights the diya (small oil lamp). She then performs the aarti (puja ritual) for me. The flame of the diya reminds me of the inner turmoil I’m experiencing and the burning desire to question Dad about his deceit.
“Aksh, tie this Raksha Dhaaga (holy thread) on Meher’s wrist,” Bhabhi instructs, handing him the sacred thread. She again turns to me. “You know, Meher, your family has this tradition where every brother ties this holy thread on his dear sister’s wrist the day after her marriage. It’s a symbol of continued protection against all evil, even if she now belongs to another family. Aksh personally visited the temple the day before your wedding and placed this thread at the feet of Goddess Durga to seek her blessings for you.”
I gaze at the holy thread in Aksh bhai’s hand, his eagerness to tie it onto my wrist evident.
“Ayaan can hire an army of bodyguards to protect my sister, but I’ll always be the nosy brother, ready to swoop in and rescue her,” Aksh bhai jokes playfully.
Just as he steps forward and is about to tie the Raksha Dhaaga, I stop him.
“Wait,” I announce, holding Vishnu’s gaze, who is standing beside Dad’s sofa. His tightly clenched jaw when Aksh bhai was about to tie the sacred thread on my hand hasn’t escaped my attention.
“Why are you standing there? Shouldn’t you be here too?” I command Vishnu, who looks at me in surprise, but there are traces of emotion in his eyes that tell me he is aware of why I said this.He knows!And that’s another blow to me!
Aksh looks puzzled. “Why should Vishnu be here? He’s just a—”
“Because he is Vishnu Pratap Walia,” I interject, my declaration echoing with intensity.
A cold silence envelops the room following my statement. I turn to my dad, who sits there, looking visibly shocked. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation as I lock eyes with him. It’s as though a storm is brewing within him, and I’m about to unleash its fury. My revelation leaves him flabbergasted. His brows furrow as questions swirl in his eyes. I can hear the gears turning in his mind as he tries to figure out how I discovered the truth.
Yes, Vishnu is my half-brother, a fact that my father has kept hidden from all of us for over a decade.
“What?” Aksh bhai snaps, clenching his teeth in an attempt to contain his shock, his gaze oscillating between Dad and Vishnu.
Devika bhabhi is equally stupefied by this revelation. I rise from my seat and stride toward Dad, who is scowling at me.
“Your expressions reveal everything, Dad,” I yell out of frustration. “Vishnu is your son, and you kept it hidden from all of us. If I hadn’t found this proof, you might have never admitted it, not even to yourself, let alone sharing it with us.”
Tears roll down my eyes as Dad stands up from his seat.
“What proof?” He queries, caught off guard. “Who told you about this?” he demands to know.
I turn around and retrieve my handbag. I open it and take out a piece of paper that the stranger had given me during my reception party yesterday.
“This,” I show it to him, “Vishnu’s birth certificate, with your name clearly listed as his father.”
Dad snatches the birth certificate from my trembling hand and scrutinises it closely.
“You know, Dad, the first thought that crossed my mind when I received this was to verify its authenticity before confronting you. Because I trusted you more than any piece of paper like this. However, the picture became clearer when I started connecting the dots from the past. I was always curious about why Vishnu was so loyal to you. Why was he so protective of our family, me, you, and your career? Why he unwaveringly supported you, even risking his life by taking a bullet for you? And then, everything fell into place. It’s because he’s your son, Dad. Your ever-loyal and dutiful son!”
