A Month ago at Moonlight Villa

First morning of Heer and Veer as a couple

Heer Veer Singh POV

“Aaii, pepe.” I get up and run to the bathroom. After my business, I saw the bathtub, and just above a big shower. I can’t wait any longer, I’ll use them now. I tiptoed so Dr. Veer wouldn’t walk up and start looking for the suit I have to wear. 

“Sab ke sab blue hai. VJ bhi Dr. Veer ki tarah acha hai. Wo mere liye itne sare suit, mein pehle gin leti hu.”

(Everything is blue. VJ is also good, like Dr. Veer. I will first count all the suits he has for me.)

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… forty-one and forty-two, they are 42 suits. I can wear a new suit daily. After a lot of thinking, I chose the suit. Again, I tiptoed and entered in bathroom. I’ll wash my hair too. My hair is so long, so I wash it once a week. That’s why I always tied them in a braid. 

I turned on the bathtub taps and the shower. After playing with water, I used the shampoo, and next was the conditioner. Then I tied my hair in a towel and then used body wash. After that, I saw a hair dryer. Dr. Veer's hair dryer is bigger than mine. In just ten minutes of blow-drying, my hair was dry.

I was wearing a palazzo suit, the soft sky-blue, which has a beautiful neck. I chose this suit because of the Delicate silver-gold embroidery and tiny mirror-like dots. On the sleeve, there are hanging pearls. “VJ has a good choice.” I giggled after dying my hair when I saw my suit in the mirror. Then I go to the balcony to check on Bebo. I didn’t enter the glass room, because I was scared. 

What if she scratches me and I have to get injections? They were very painful.

I give water to all the plants. That’s the habit, I get up early in the morning and give water to all the plants before the sun rises. So when sunlight fell on them, they didn’t feel dry. My Nina (maternal grandmother) was a gardener, and I always helped her in our garden. We have a big garden, and there are so many flowering trees. My favorites are roses, and sometimes their thorns pierce my fingers. 

Then I sit on the sofa, which is middle of the plants, and watch the sunrise, then go back inside the room. “Dr. Veer bohat sundar lag rahe hai ase sote huy.” He is a strong man, how he carried Bebo and me together. He is a good man, his face is also good, no beard, and also strong. I giggled thinking that but I didn’t make any sound.

(Dr. Veer looks very handsome while sleeping like this.)

I don’t like a beard because all man looks the same with a beard.

“Mujhe humara tablet chahiye, Hum bore ho rahe hai. Mujhe shinchain dekhna hai. Jab tak mere pati so rahe hai utni der mein shinchain dekh lugi.” 

(I need my tablet, I’m getting bored. I want to watch Shinchan. I will watch Shinchan till my husband is sleeping.)

I was looking for my tablet, then my eyes fell. It’s under his pillow. So I tiptoed and walked near the pillow. Slowly, I bend and slide my hand under the pillow. I can feel the edge and grab it. Suddenly, Dr. Veer opened his eyes, and I got startled and fell on him. My head hit his head. “Aaii.” 

Veer Heer Singh POV

I was sleeping peacefully, then something touched my face. It was hair. They smelled like my shampoo. I opened my eyes and saw the best view of my life. My Heriye. 

Suddenly, she fell, and her head hit mine, and as usual, she said, “Aaii.” Then she moved her head from me and started rubbing, and I was just looking at her, captivated by her face. Our faces were hovering near each other. 

Holding her waist, I got up and also made her sit on the bed. I pulled her hand away from her forehead, “Dekhne dijye hume.” (Let me see.)

It was slightly red due to the hit, so I started rubbing gently with my palm. Then I kissed there on her forehead. I felt she froze. Shit, I didn’t pay any attention to my actions. 

She was looking at me with doe eyes, thinking something. Then, the next moment, she also kissed me on the forehead. With that, my heart goes out of control. Then she innocently asked, “Kya hua, aapko bhi toh lagi hogi na?” Her cheeks are turning red; I should be one turning red here. 

(What happened? You also got hurt?)

“Chaliye jaldi-jaldi tyaar ho jaiye, hume Bebo ko vaccine lagvani hai. Wo waha glass room me akeli hai.” My Heriye actually got scared because of the injections. 

(Quickly get up and get ready. We have to go for Bebo’s vaccine. She was alone there in a glass room.)

 “First, I should feed our kid, then let me bathe, and afterwards we will go.” She gave me a quick nod, and I got up, picked milk from the fridge. I got inside the glass room and poured the milk, and she started drinking. Heer was watching from the outside. Maybe I made her really scared. 

Then I picked up my phone and texted Bua about the breakfast, and also told her to tell the helper to leave food near the lift on the table. I don’t want her to see too many people in our house. She took a place on the bed and played a cartoon on her tablet. I gifted her this for study, and here she is using it for her entertainment.

I selected my clothes and entered the bathroom for a shower. After freshening up, when I came into the bedroom, I saw she was looking sad. So I sat on my knees and asked, “Humari sundar si biwi udaas kyu hai?” 

(Why is my beautiful wife sad?)

“Humare baal, Har roj Nina humari choti banati thi, ab kon…” I know her daily life has changed. She came into a new environment. But I promised, I’ll make all the relationships that she needed. 

(My hair, Nina used to braid my hair.)

“Hum karege, jayiye jakar samaan leke aaiye.” She ran inside the dressing room. Meanwhile, I also picked the food tray from outside. “Aaiye phle nashta, fir aapki choti.”

(I will do, go, bring accessories.)

(Come, first we do breakfast, after that your braid.)

We both sat at, dining table, which is placed in the living room, and seeing the aalo paranta, her eyes lit up, she started eating. I am also eating my salad. Her expression as she looked at my salad was priceless, like a yuck-face sticker pretending to be serious. She didn’t ask me questions, and in that moment, I didn’t feel the need to offer explanations either. There was a comfortable silence that felt almost companionable.  I let the food do the talking for us—the crunch of the salad, the softness of the paratha.

It’s time to tie her braid. I’d never tied a braid like this before, but I’d watched her on YouTube, practiced in my mind, and believed I could do it. She handed me a comb and went outside in the garden, then came back with a smile. She sits on the sofa. “Shuru kariye, Dr. Veer,” she said. And I murmured to myself, “You can do this.”

(Start Dr. Veer)

I drew the comb softly through her hair,  but it got stuck. “Aaii, aaram se Dr. Veer.” I tried again, but this time with a lot of patience; she didn’t wince, so it means I’m doing okay. On the fourth attempt, the sections settled into perfect balance. I divided the strands into three equal sections, and after a moment of careful adjustment, three neat, even sections. With a deep breath, I began to tie the braid, my hands moving with quiet confidence, tracing a rhythm that felt intimate and true. The braid grew beneath my fingers, a quiet ceremony between us, and the world around us faded away. Each careful pass of the braid felt like a communication without any words. Secured the end with a hair tie. Then she slid the palm in front of me, showing a small yellow flower. “Inko bhi lagaiye.” 

(Ouch, slowly, Dr. Veer)

(Put these too.)

When I finished, the braid lay there like a soft braid of time—strong, graceful, and entirely hers. I brushed a stray lock from her cheek and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Hmm, how many marks do I deserve, Heer Veer Singh?” I asked. She brought that braid in front, looked at it, then smiled. I was so nervous that I was giving one of my MBBS exams.

“Ye thodi dhili hai. Par achi bhi lag rahi hai, isiliye aath number.”

(The braid is a little loose. But looking nice too, so eight number.)

I think on the first attempt it’s not that bad. She pulled me onto the sofa, “ab hume aapse kuch pouchna hai.” I was waiting for her questions. 

(Now, I want to ask you something.)

With a sudden movement, she sits on my lap, both her legs dangling on one side, “Kya hum ase aapki godi mein baith sakte hai. Wo humne phehli baar shadi ki hai na toh hume pta nhi hai, hum kya-kya kar skte hai or kya kya nhi.”

(Can I sit like this in your lap. Actually, I married first time, so I don’t know what I can or cannot do.)

Thank God her legs are on one side, otherwise…

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Present Time: Roy Residence

Morning 11:30 am

Janaat Viraj Singh  POV:

Oh God, my head. Someone hit me on the head. When I woke up first thing, I remembered that I had drunk with Lily and taken a cab home. I don’t usually drink. It was our second time when we both drank. First was on Lily’s twenty birthday. That time we just tasted the wine. But yesterday we both were sad, I was because of the surprise marriage, and she was because she heard her dad was planning an arranged marriage with so called billionaire. 

Earlier, she thought he might send her foreign for the study, but she was wrong. Her dad is so cruel that he wants to exchange her for some deal. Her dad’s main motive is money; he wants to use her daughter as an object. He thought that in return for her, he would get some big project. When she found that, she ditched them and came to me.

So basically, yesterday was our first time experiencing being drunk. I don’t even remember what we drank because we ordered all the drinks and tasted them; some were sour, but a few were so bitter, like poison. I don’t know, they all mixed in my stomach.

When I get up, my head spins again, and a little “ah” sound slips from my mouth. I find my phone on the side table and quickly type the message to my soul sister. “Reporting, ma'am. Are you still alive because I’m not.” and the battery went off with a single message. It’s time to buy a new phone.

What happened yesterday? I came home and sat on my favorite swing.

Flashback 

“Yo..you.. My moonie. Are you still following me? Good, good.” He is my best friend because he never leaves me alone at night. When there is all around just darkness, he is the only light that comes in my room and tells me I’m not alone. He is here with me.

“You know I married today. Also, tomorrow is the day I lost mumma.” I looked up and pointed my finger towards him. I want to be sad because I am missing mumma, but my two organs start their question-answer session in me.

Head: Ooo, you married?

Heart: Yes.

Head: Did you wear a lehenga?

Heart: No.

Head: What about makeup?

Heart: No.

Head: Any ring?

Heart: No.

Head: What about the nuptial chain?

Heart: No.

Head: You skipped all the steps?

Heart: Yes.

Stop. Stop.

Why are you making me more sad? You are my head. Why are you behaving like this?

“Now, no more words. I’m already sad. He didn’t ask me out. He didn’t flirt with me. We both skipped all the steps and married directly. But he is handsome like him, and he also has long legs.” I feel my head spinning now, so I come inside and sleep on the bed.

Flashback ends 

I was again just lying on the bed, but “Can’t you handle a single day without me, Leo? I’m busy.” 

Is he here?

Yes! Leaning against my room doorway.

Looking tall and handsome.

His sudden presence made me stand up from bed with a jerk, and I stumbled on the carpet. I was just falling on my face. Then one arm holds my stomach, and another is on my arm. “Careful.”

I don’t dare to look into his eyes. What must he be thinking about me, that he got a spoiled kid in a wedding? Without thinking, I murmured, “So.. Sorry.”

He guided me to settle onto the small, round sofa before the vanity, the mirror throwing back a thousand reflections of us. His hands claimed the edges of the vanity, framing me. The distance between us vanished. I felt the world narrow to the contour of his gaze—the way it softened when he found my eyes. My lips curled into a delicate pout, a playful shield that is going to be my weapon.

“Is your head still in pain?” he murmured, his voice a low caress that sent shivers dancing along my spine. I nodded, the motion turning into a flutter of sensation. He paused, a slow, deliberate inhale that tasted of restraint and longing, then whispered, “Freshen up. I want to talk about something.” Saying that he stepped out of the room, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake and a pulse of anticipation that thrummed in the air.

“Ahh! Silly girl. Why did you drink?” I threw my head backward, resting on the vanity table. “Great start to the day as married.” I dragged myself out of bed and then into the shower. Today bathtub skipped because I need running water, so my hangover also washed away with the water flow. I am smelling like a vegetable market. “The shower really helped with the hangover, I’ll remember that for next time.” 

“Amazing woman. You are still thinking about next time with this throbbing in your head.” Wearing a loose t-shirt with a pair of shorts, I go downstairs. He was sitting on the sofa in the living room, engrossed in his laptop. I walked straight to the sofa. 

“Sorry, but please don’t tell Dad about this. It’s our little secret.” If Dad finds out, no, no, he should not know at any cost. He is a typical indian father. I know he didn’t say anything about my career because I was recovering at that time. 

He looked at me with a stern expression and, after a pause, “Hmm, but you will not drink again.”

I nodded with a sly grin and sat beside him, maintaining a gap between us. “It’s good,” I said. He was looking at me with frozen eyes. “I mean, it’s good, you are making yourself at home.” I further explained.

“Not having any option, though. You must be hungry,” his tone confirmed. His deep voice was helping me with my hangover, and hell, I was so hungry. 

I sighed dramatically. “I’m tired and don’t have any energy to …”  Before I completed my sentence, “Here,” he said, forwarding the bowl of khichdi. “Eat this first, then you can rest again.” 

I wanted to roll my eyes, but my starvation didn’t let me. I grab the bowl and start eating, but not making eye contact with him. Not even once. He also stayed silent for that time. I ate all. Honestly, it didn’t taste that bad. I don’t know why I don’t like trying new foods; I’m only stuck on a few items. Strange. 

Taking the empty bowl from me, he goes toward the kitchen sink and washes the bowl and spoon. “Are you feeling okay now? If yes, then pack your bags, we will leave for home.”

I was quiet for a moment, a little taken aback by his words. For some time, I seriously forgot that I’m married, and I have to go to his house. I don’t know how to react to this. I was a normal girl, living my day-to-day life. Suddenly, he appears, and now we are both married. Forgot to mention the surprise marriage. Don’t be sad, you are going for a few days.

He studied me for a moment. His gaze was gentle, “If you need any help, then I’m here. So we are done for now, go upstairs and pack your bags.”

My eyes narrowed slightly. Standing up, I crossed my arms under my chest, “Great, now you are ordering me.” I didn’t wait for his words and passed by him to go to my room.

The first thing I did was plug my phone in for a heroic 100% charge before I even looked at the closet. Then I shoved my tablet and a suspiciously large collection of electronic accessories into a backpack. I’m stuck, from where I start packing. In the past, Mom was with me; Now, just thinking about packing makes my brain audition for a drama club: lots of drama, very little actual packing.

I take a deep breath, the kind that pretends to be a pep talk, and push open the cabinet. “How many dresses should I pack?” I mutter to the hangers, who don’t reply, obviously. So yesterday and today have almost passed. Dad and Chiku will come in five days; only four days are left. Basically, I have to pack for four nights and five days. 

Yes, I figured it out. 

Sound of a knock. “You need any help?” Viraj is asking from outside my room, as if he’s the heroic sidekick in a very low-budget superhero film. I shake my head in reply. 

The air shifts as Viraj steps in. “How much time do you need?” he asked. I don’t know. I’m no packing pro, just a human-shaped procrastination station. “Hmm, one hour maybe.” I shake my head again, then flash three fingers at him—“at least three hours,” I say, as if I’m negotiating, and he grins with a fraction of a nod. 

“Okay, no worries, take your time, and call me if you need my help with anything.” Again, I nodded. 

Moving on, I started packing fourteen dresses. Yes, fourteen. Then six night gowns, because sleepwear is a serious commitment. Four heels, because one pair is never enough. Lingerie follows close behind, a secret confidence squad. Makeup and “lots” of skincare. And the product I shared a review with? 

Next bag: shooting bag for the professional ambitions, because two bags aren’t enough to carry destiny. My laptop for editing, a drivepot, and a ring light, because even my shadow demands good lighting. A shooting camera, because I like my memories in high definition, with autofocus on drama. And, not to forget, a stand, 

“Done.”

Now my room is looking like a real mess, makeup was spread on the vanity, and some hair product fell on the ground. And about clothes, they are all under my feet. So I pick clothes with my full stretched arms and put them more like dumping in the cabinet. All makeup and hair accessories are put in an empty container, and slide that under the study table.

Now, it’s all done.

It’s not like I don’t know packing, but it’s just that packing a part of our life into suitcases can be really emotional sometimes. Packing makes me remember when I pack my mother's clothes after she's gone for donation. “Don’t get emotional now,” I whispered to myself. 

My head and heart are both filled with this unknown fear. I lived in this room my whole life. No matter how happy, sad, angry, and crazy moments I have shared in these four walls. It’s all overwhelming for me. I know I’m leaving for a few days, but I’m feeling really odd. It’s difficult to put them into words.

I unplugged my phone from the charger and saw no message from Lily yet. So I just thought of posting a story of an accessory bag to pass my time. Sometimes I feel like I am addicted to it, but again, I don’t actually care until it’s distracting me from my sad moments of life. 

After my story was uploaded, this time I turned off the story comment section. I through the phone on the bed that was just safe from an inch to meet with floor. I wish that fall directly on the floor so I can buy a new phone immediately.

Bad luck, never mind. Next time, I’ll make sure you kiss the floor really hard and lose your life.

JAANAT’S STORY POST

Notification: @yoursjannat posted a new story.

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