Age Old Love (Complete)

Part 1

Tara combed her hair unmindfully. The lush long black tresses not getting the attention they deserved. The mirror in front of which she was sitting too noticed that the owner of the fair heart-shaped face, light brown beautiful eyes, a stubborn chin and one straight nose with a small diamond sparkling on it was not paying any attention to it either today. Her thoughts were somewhere far away, beyond the realms of this room. A knock on her door and the voice the followed rocked Tara out of her thoughts.

'Bindni sa, badi malkin is calling you,' informed a woman servant from the other side

'Tell her I am coming in a minute,' Tara replied.

She sighed. Leaving the comb on her dresser she stood up. Deftly re-adjusting her royal blue and green colored elaborate silk ghaghra and it's matching choli on her willowy frame, which she has worn especially for today discarding her normal cotton ones as she was asked to dress up by her mother-in-law whom everyone knew as badi malkin, she moved to the bed where the ensemble's blue colored dupatta was lying. Wrapping it around her slender waist and feminine shoulders with practiced ease, she pulled the pallu to cover her head as she opened the door to make her way out.

The Rana haveli of Ranakgarh of which she was the daughter-in-law, or bindni sa as she was addressed as owing to the dialect and traditions of the Mewar region of Rajasthan in which they lived, was decked up like a new bride. Walking from her room situated on the first floor of the haveli to the ground floor where her in-law's room was, she passed by a hub-bub of activity. Till a few hours back she too was contributing to the preparations with a smile dutifully plastered on her face when she was sent to dress up. And why not? Afterall it was her husband who was coming home after two years. She was supposed to be the happiest soul around and she might have been as well, she thought with a lead like weight in her heart. The only little problem was that he went away from his own house to avoid her in the first place. That he kind of hated her. That since two years, just so that he can avoid her, he had not visited his own house even once. Even for big festivals like Diwali and Holi.

.

.

.

.

.

Tara Shekhawat was the apple of her parent's eyes. The only girl after four boys, she was considered very lucky by her parents as she was born under strong stars and was exceptionally beautiful, and thus was the most cherished soul in affluent Shekhawat household of zamindars. Her every wish was fulfilled as soon as it used to make it to her lips. Protected by elder brothers, loved by her mother and spoiled rotten by her father, little Tara was one willful and stubborn kid. But shielded from rest of the world, she never knew what cunning or malice was. Bossy she may be, but rude she wasn't. Outside the family, she was allowed to mingle ONLY with Rana kids, which were ancestral family friends of Shekhawats and an equally influential & affluent clan.

The eldest Rana child was Virat Rana, a boy and good 4 years elder to Tara and hence of no use to her for she could not boss him around. He too kept at a safe distance from this hurricane. The second was Veena Rana, a soft-spoken and pretty girl only a year elder to Tara, who did not mind playing second fiddle to her. The third Rana was Vikrant. Two years younger to her and thus had no qualms playing a minion to his elder sister and Tara. Totally opposite to Tara, all Rana kids were very disciplined. None was a free-spirit like her and thus they were always in an awe of this girl who walked around as if she not only owned her place but theirs too. Everyone liked her, some more than others.

Tara knew she will betroth to Virat one day, her mother had told her so. Families wanted friendship and business terms to turn into something more solid. And that was the reason that when Tara stepped into adolescence, out of the blue she developed a weird shyness towards the tall, serious and handsome Virat. She tried to avoid crossing his path for it was getting difficult each passing day to control the blush that used to creep up on her face at his sight but would pest Veena for hours to talk about her elder brother. Oh, the throes of young love!