This is my first time writing any novel so please forgive me for my silly mistakes thank you so much



Main lead : Rudraksh vardaan singh Suryavanshi ( but in starting it's Rishi )

Age: 40 (not real)

FAMILY : Mother - Maya

               Father - Ashok

               Brother - Raghav (42 married)

               Sister in law - Priya



Female Lead : Noor Dikshit

Age : 21

College student

Had a boyfriend

FAMILY: Mother - Partibha

              Father - Aman

              Brother - Lakshya

               Friend - Roohanika Devedi

"Arre yaar, mumma, yahan net bhi theek se nahi aa raha," Noor muttered, walking in circles with her phone raised.

(Oh god mummy there is no net)

"Toh beta, kuch din bina net ke reh lo," her mother, Partibha, laughed.

(So dear, stay without internet for a few days)

"Pata nahi kis zamaane ke gaon mein le aayi ho. Yahan kon hi rehta hoga?" Noor grumbled.

(I don’t know which era’s village you’ve brought me to. Who even lives here?)

"Yahan bhi insaan hi rehte hain, maharani," Partibha shot back.

"Zyada nakhre mat dikhao, bag uthao aur chalo."

(People live here too, princess. Don’t show tantrums, pick up your bag and come.)

"Namaste, chachi ji!" A young boy, maybe seventeen, ran forward, smiling. (Greetings, aunt)

"Arre Shankar! Itna bada ho gaya beta! Pichli baar toh itna sa tha." Partibha gestured with her hand, laughing.

(Oh Shankar! You’ve grown so big! Last time you were this small.)

Shankar bent to touch her feet, then looked toward Noor.

"Hey," Noor said quickly, waving instead.

"Dekha? Ye hai humare sheher ki bachi – 'hey' bol rahi hai," Partibha teased, tapping Noor's head.

(See? This is our city girl — she’s saying “hey”)

"Mumma, behave please," Noor sighed.

"Aaiye, gadi wahan hai," Shanskar said politely, leading them toward a decorated jeep.

(Please come, the car is there)

The moment the car stopped outside the house, the house wasn't huge, but it had warmth. Yellow marigold garlands hung from the low mud walls, and fairy lights blinked softly around the wooden doors. The courtyard floor was freshly swept, the faint smell of wet mud still in the air. A few kids ran past carrying plates of sweets, their laughter echoing through the narrow lanes.

Inside, the rooms were small – two on each side, with an open verandah in the middle. The whitewashed walls were decorated with old family photos and bright red cloth hangings. A ceiling fan whirred lazily above as Partibha and Noor placed their bags near the charpoy.

"Bas itna hi ghar hai?" Noor whispered, looking around curiously.

(Such a small house..)

"Chhota zaroor hai, par dil bada hai logon ka," Partibha smiled, untying her dupatta.

(It is small, but people’s hearts are big)

They freshened up with cold water from a steel jug, the scent of sandalwood and neem soap lingering in the air. As dusk settled, the village slowly turned golden – the lights outside flickering to life, the hum of a generator starting somewhere nearby.

By nightfall, the courtyard had transformed. The women sat in a circle on the terrace, their voices rising and falling like music – gossiping, laughing, singing old wedding songs. The glow of the fairy lights reflected on their faces, and the air carried the aroma of puris, jalebi, and rose petals from the decorations below.

In one corner, Noor scrolled through her phone, trying to find a signal, the light of the screen flickering against her tired face.

Gaon ke bade zamindar se shaadi tay hui hai humari Laxmi ki," Kusha told Partibha proudly.

(Our Laxmi's marriage has been fixed with the big landlord of the village)

"Hamari Laxmi hai hi itni sundar," Partibha smiled, cupping the glowing bride's cheek.

(Our Laxmi is indeed so beautiful)

"Haan, gaon ki sabse gori-chitti ladki hai," another woman added.

(Yes, she is the fairest girl in the village)

Meanwhile, Noor sat at the corner, scrolling through her phone, half-listening.

"Bitiya, apne chehre pe dahi-besan lagaya karo. Ye daane theek ho jaayenge," one woman said kindly. (Dear, apply curd and gram flour on your face. These pimples will go away)

"Nahi, aunty, ye hormonal acne hai. Dahi-besan se nahi jaate," Noor replied with a small smile. (No aunty, this is hormonal acne. It doesn't go away with curd and gram flour)

"aein?" the lady blinked.

(What?)

"Woh... mujhe PCOD hai, toh uski wajah se-"

(Well... I have PCOD, so because of that-)

"Arey arey, ye sab kuch nahi hota!" another woman interrupted, waving her hand dismissively.

(Oh no no, nothing like this happens!)

Noor smiled awkwardly, the corners of her mouth twitching before she quietly got up. She walked toward the balcony, her slippers brushing against the cool, uneven floor. Outside, the night had settled softly over the village. The houses glowed faintly with oil lamps, their golden light flickering like tiny stars scattered acrossthe darkness. A few distant sounds drifted in - laughter, a harmonium playing somewhere far away, and the hum of crickets. The whole scene looked straight out of an old film.

After a while, Laxmi came and stood beside her. Noor glanced sideways but didn't say anything. Laxmi looked at her - so Noor looked back. They both smiled, an unspoken warmth passing between them.

"Gaon pasand aaya?" Laxmi asked gently. (Did you like the village?)

"Abhi toh aayi hoon," Noor replied with a light shrug. (I've just arrived)

"Tab bhi... abhi tak kaisa laga?" Laxmi pressed on, curious.

(Still... how does it feel so far?)

"Theek-thaak... matlab ek do din ke liye theek hai," Noor said, chuckling. "You know, digital detox ho jaayega."

(It's okay... I mean it's fine for a day or two... You know, it will be a digital detox)

Laxmi smiled faintly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

"Waise tum batao, kal tumhari shaadi hai... kaisi feeling aa rahi hai?" Noor asked, turning toward her. (By the way you tell me, your wedding is tomorrow... how are you feeling?)

Laxmi's smile vanished completely. "Theek hi hai," she murmured.

(It's fine)

"Kya hua?" Noor asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

(What happened?)

"Kuch nahi..." Laxmi muttered and walked away, her steps slow but determined.

(Nothing...).

For a moment, Noor watched her go, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Shaadi hai... thodi ghabrahat toh banti hai," she whispered to herself, before turning back to the night view.

(It's a wedding... some nervousness is natural)

...AUTHOR POV:...

Chal, kal tera bhi vrat tootega," Raghav teased, raising his glass.

(Come on, tomorrow even your fast will break)

Rishi chuckled faintly. "Haan, lagta toh aisa hi hai."

(Yes, it seems so)

"Honeymoon pe kahan jaana hai, kuch socha?" Raghav asked, leaning back on his chair.

(Where do you want to go for honeymoon, have you thought about it?)

"Yeh honey-woney moon pe nahi jaana mujhe," Rishi said, shaking his head. "Sab bakwaas hai."

(I don't want to go on this honey-woney moon...Everything is nonsense)

"Kyun bhai? Shaadi ho rahi hai teri, kuch toh maze kar le,"

Raghav taunted with a grin.

(Why bro? You're getting married, enjoy at least a little)

"Mujhe nahi karna maze," Rishi said quietly, eyes fixed on his drink. (I don't want to enjoy) "Main theek hoon."

(I'm fine)

"Abey tu gadha hai kya? Itni sundar ladki mili hai, kal shaadi hai aur tu yahan muh latkaye baithe hai?" Raghav laughed, half exasperated.

(Are you stupid? You got such a beautiful girl, the wedding is tomorrow and you're sitting here sulking?)

Rishi didn't reply - just hummed faintly.

"Rahul," Raghav's tone softened.

"Hm?"

"Tu ye shaadi karna chahta hai na?"

(You want to do this marriage, right?)

Rishi took a deep breath. "Nahi... mujhe koi shauk nahi hai. Par maa itni chinta kar rahi thi, toh maine haan bol diya. Sach bolun toh... mujhe koi khaas farak bhi nahi padta."

(No... I have no desire. But mother was so worried, so I said yes. To be honest... it doesn't really matter to me)

"Beta ji, shaadi ho rahi hai, koi gudde-gudiya ka khel nahi. Wo ladki apna ghar, parivaar chhod ke aayegi yahan. Tera kuch farz banta hai uske liye," Raghav said, his voice serious now.

(Bro.. this is a marriage, not a doll's game. That girl will leave her home and family and come here. You have some responsibility toward her)

"Bilkul. Yahan usko rehne mein koi takleef nahi hogi," Rishi replied calmly. (Absolutely. She won't face any trouble living here) "Par maine usse pehle hi bata diya tha - mujhse wo koi umeed na rakhe."

(But I had already told her - she should not expect anything from me)

"Kya matlab?" Raghav frowned.

(What do you mean?)

"Matlab yahi ki wo meri patni hogi, usko saare haq dunga. Par usse zyada... koi umeed na rakhe. Pyaar-vyaar ki nahi," Rishi said flatly, his eyes distant.

(It means she will be my wife, I'll give her all rights. But beyond that... she shouldn't expect anything. Not love)

"Aur wo maan gayi?" Raghav sighed, pouring another drink.

(And she agreed?)

"Man na hi tha," Rishi scoffed, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"Itna paisa dekhke kaunsi ladki nahi manegi?"

(She had to agree...Which girl wouldn't agree seeing so much money?)

"Par bina pyaar ki shaadi ka kya faayda," Raghav said, shaking his head.

(But what's the use of a marriage without love)

Rishi smirked. "Ab har kisi ki kismat apki tarah thodi hoti hai -paise nikalwane gaye the, aur bhabhi le aaye." (Not everyone is lucky like you - you went to collect money and came back with a wife)

Raghav chuckled, "Abey chhod na..." (Oh leave it...)

Both burst out laughing, their voices echoing faintly against the haveli walls. Inside, the laughter and music of the women continued, but out here - under the dim yellow bulbs and a sky heavy with silence - their laughter slowly faded into a long, uneasy quiet.

The night stretched heavy - full of light, sound, and a strange kind of loneliness sitting quietly between them.

...NOOR POV :-...

This bed was so damn uncomfortable. I barely slept all night. How do these people even manage to sleep here? And the wind - it was freezing.

Even at seven in the morning, the whole village was awake. People had bathed, eaten breakfast, and were already chatting like it was noon. Meanwhile, I'd just woken up. God, I can't wait to go back home.

"Noor, jaldi naha lo!" Mumma shouted.

(Noor, take a bath quickly!)

"Haan haan... ja rahi hoon," I groaned, dragging myself to the bathroom.

(Yes yes... I'm going)

I looked around and sighed. Back home, I have a shower. Here? A bucket. Just a bucket and a mug - not even plastic, but an aluminum one with salt deposits on the sides.

I sat down and started washing it. The moment that icy water touched my hand, I yelped.

Immediately, someone banged on the door. "Noor? Kya hua?"

Mumma's voice.

(Noor? What happened?)

"Geyser kidhar hai!?" I shouted.

(Where is the geyser!?)

From outside, I heard laughter - mocking, teasing laughter.

"Yahan geyser nahi hai, ese hi nahalo," Mumma said, still laughing.

Ab beta, yahan sab aise hi karte hain," she said casually.

(Now dear, everyone here does it like this)

I kept calling her, but she ignored me. Eventually, I gave up and took the coldest bath of my entire life.

I'm never-ever-coming to another village again.

After surviving that torture, I sat down for breakfast - kachori and jalebi. In the morning. Who eats oily food this early? I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss my chia seed lemon water and omelette.

"It's fine, Noor," I told myself. "Just two more days and then you're out of here."

"Beta, taiyaar toh ho jao," some lady said.

(Dear, at least get ready)

"Masi, shaadi toh raat mein hai na? Abhi se kyu taiyaar ho jaun?" I asked.

(Aunt, the wedding is at night right? Why should I get ready so early?)

"Arre shaadi raat mein hai, rasme toh abhi se hain na," she replied.

(The wedding is at night, but the rituals start now)

"Rasmon ka kya hai, woh toh pajame mein bhi ho jaengi," I muttered under my breath.

(Rituals can happen even in pajamas)

"Noor! Jitna bola ja raha hai, utna karo," Mumma snapped.

(Noor! Do as much as you're told)

"Meri maa, mere paas kapde hi nahi hain itne!" I said dramatically.

(Oh my god, I don't even have that many clothes!)

"Itni si baat? Aao, mere saath," Laxmi said and took me to her room.

(Such a small thing? Come with me)

It was quiet, filled with bridal stuff - lehengas neatly folded, jewelry boxes half-open, smell of mehendi in the air.

"Yeh suit pehen lo," she said, taking out a beautiful pink embroidered suit from her wardrobe and handing it to me.

(Wear this suit)

"Uh... kuch normal sa de do na. Ye toh bohot heavy hai," I said, trying to refuse politely.

(Give me something normal. This is very heavy)

"Arre le lo. Waise bhi, kal ke baad main ye sab pehnungi hi kahan," she said, her smile fading mid-sentence.

(Take it. Anyway, after tomorrow where will I even wear all this)

This time, I couldn't ignore it. "Ek baat puchun?" I asked gently.

(Can I ask one thing?)

She nodded.

"Tum is shaadi se khush nahi ho?" (You are not happy with this marriage?)

Laxmi looked at me, then quickly looked away. "Esa nahi hai... sab khush hain," she said quietly.

(It's not like that... everyone is happy)

"Sabka nahi pucha maine," I pressed, my voice softer now. "Tum khush ho?"

(I didn't ask about everyone. Are you happy?)

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then, she glanced toward the door, walked over, and quietly locked it. Within seconds, tears welled up in her eyes, and she suddenly hugged me tight.

Okav... I was not ready for this. But fine - tea and drama are always welcome.

...NOOR POV :...

"Kya hua, batao mujhe," I said softly, holding her. (What happened, tell me)

"Tum pehli insaan ho jisne mujhse ye poocha hai," she whispered. "Warna sabne toh bas faisla suna diya." (You are the first person who asked me this... Everyone else just announced the decision)

"Matlab tum ye shaadi nahi karna chahti?"I asked, my chest tightening.

(So you don't want to do this marriage?)

"Bilkul nahi! Tumhe pata hai wo aadmi kaisa hai?" she asked, voice trembling.

(Absolutely not! Do you know what kind of man he is?)

I shook my head no.

"Jab hum pehli baar mile the, tabhi usne kaha tha ki main kabhi pyaar ki umeed na rakhun. Main sirf samajh ke liye uski patni rahungi. Kamre ke andar... hum anjaan log rahenge." (When we met for the first time, he told me never to expect love. I will only be his wife for society. Inside the room... we will be strangers)

My jaw literally dropped. "WTF."

She gave a sad little smile. "Sach hai, Noor. Usne seedha muh pe bola tha."

(It's true Noor. . He said it straight to my face)

I sat down beside her, stunned. "Toh tumne kisi se kuch kaha kyun nahi?"

(Then why didn't you tell anyone?)

"Kya kehti? Kisi ne poocha hi nahi. Aaj pehli baar tumne mujhse poocha hai," she said, voice cracking. (What would I say? No one.

Even asked. Today is the first time you asked me)

I felt my heart sink. Nobody - absolutely nobody - deserves to be trapped in a loveless marriage.

I hugged her again, tighter this time. "Tum bohot strong ho," I said softly. (You are very strong) "Agar main tumhari jagah hoti, toh main toh bhaag jaati." (If I were in your place, I would have run away)

Laxmi let out a small, watery laugh. "Mujhe bhi bhaag jaana chahiye," she whispered. "Par... gharwale..." She trailed off. (I should also run away...But... family...)

Rishi pov

I wore my sherwani, fixed the collar, and looked at myself in the mirror one last time. Ma came over, put a tika on my forehead, and did the aarti, her eyes shining with pride and worry - that strange mix only mothers can pull off.

Finally, after all the rituals, the baraat was ready. The dhols started, people began dancing like they were possessed, and money flew into the air. Some of the cousins even started firing gunshots in the sky - typical village wedding chaos.

I got on the horse. Kids cheered, old ladies blessed me, and someone shouted, "Arey dulhe raja, muskurao toh zara!" So I smiled - the forced, tired kind of smile that doesn't quite reach youreyes.

(Hey groom, smile a little!)

We reached the bride's house after what felt like an endless parade. A big tent was set up right outside the house - bright lights, plastic chairs, and half-wilted marigolds hanging from bamboo poles. The arrangements were... let's just say, modest. Shabby, even. But there was an honesty in it. They'd clearly tried their best.

We offered to help, but they were pretty adamant about doing everything themselves. Something about pride.

I went and sat down on the mandap. People were scattered all around - some gossiping, some watching the pandit prepare the havan kund. I saw Raghav bhaiya sitting on a sofa with Priya bhabhi and little Chaavi. Ma and Papa were there too, looking around, trying to smile politely at guests. Everyone seemed restless.

Then the pandit said, "Vadhu ko bulaiye." (Please call the bride.)

A few people nodded, someone went inside, and I adjusted my dupatta, trying not to look awkward under all the attention.

But after what felt like half an hour, the pandit cleared his throat again. "Mahurat ka samay nikalta ja raha hai... vadhu ko bulaiye."

(The auspicious time is passing... please call the bride.)

This time, everyone's faces changed. The light laughter and background chatter faded into an uncomfortable silence. Ma exchanged a look with Papa. Even Raghav bhaiya stopped talking.

I could feel the tension crawling up my neck. Something wasn't right.

Instead of sitting there like a dumb statue, I got up and walked inside the house.

"Bhala aise kaun karta hai?" a woman muttered.

(Who does something like this?)

"Kuch khot hoga tabhi bhag gayi!" another added, clicking her tongue in judgment.

(There must be something wrong, that's why she ran away!)

"Bhabhi ji, uska kisi ke saath chakkar toh nahi tha?" someone else whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

(Did she have an affair with someone?)

I stood there frozen - watching people who were supposed to be kind, who were supposed to care, tear apart a girl's dignity without a moment's hesitation. Words - sharp, bitter, and cruel - filled the small room. Kusha tai sat on the bed, tears streaking down her face, exactly where Laxmi was supposed to sit as a bride.

NOOR POV

"Bas kariye aap sab," I said, unable to take it anymore."Bhag gayi toh bhag gayi."

(That's enough, all of you.... If she ran away, then she ran away.)

All eyes turned to me - disapproving, shocked, as if I had committed some blasphemy.

"Koi reason hoga na... wajah hogi bhagne ke peeche," I continued, trying to sound calm.

(There must be a reason... there has to be a reason behind her running away.)

"Aise kisi ke character pe sawal uthana kaisi samajhdari hai?"

(How is it sensible to question someone's character like this?)

"Bitiya, ladki ho. Thodi kam zubaan chalao," one of the older women snapped.

(Girl, you are a woman. Control your tongue a little.)

"Sasural jaogi toh jutte padenge!" Another said.

I rolled my eyes. Typical.

Before I could reply, Ma grabbed my wrist and pulled me aside.

"Zyada Jhansi ki Rani mat bano. Side mein khadi raho," ma hissed.

(Don't try to be Jhansi ki Rani too much. Stand aside.)

"par..."

(but...)

Before I could finish, the door slammed open. The noise cut through every conversation.

A man walked in - tall, broad shoulders, eyes sharp as steel. His face wasn't angry, but there was something terrifyingly calm about him. This was him - the old groom Laxmi was supposed to marry.

Everyone fell silent. Kusha tai and Tauji stood immediately, joining their trembling hands in front of him.

"Ladki kahan hai?" His voice was low, heavy. (Where is the girl?)

"BHAG GAYI!" someone shouted from behind. (She ran away!)

Tauji's lips trembled. "Sahab... wo bina bataye... chali gayi..." (Sir... she left without telling anyone...)

"Maaf kar dijiye," Kusha tai sobbed. Even Shankar, bent forward to beg for forgiveness.

(Please forgive us.)

For a moment, I thought the man would lash out - slap someone, shout, maybe throw something. But he didn't. Instead, he inhaled slowly and looked around. His eyes scanned every face in the room... until they landed on me.

I smiled awkwardly - the polite kind you give strangers you never plan to meet again. But his eyes didn't move. They were... assessing. Almost dangerous. The kind of stare that makes your stomach twist and your palms sweat.

Then he said, "Shaadi na sahi, swayamvar sahi."

(If not a wedding, then a swayamvar.)

"Huh?" I blurted out.

Before I could process, he stepped forward, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me toward the door.

Everything happened too fast. One moment, people were gasping, shouting; the next, I was standing on the mandap - as the bride.

He sat down, pulling me beside him.

"AYEE! Pagal ho?" I shouted, getting up.

(Hey! Are you crazy?)

"Baitho chup chaap," he said, his voice deep, commanding. His hand gripped mine tighter and then pulled me down.

(Sit down quietly.)

"Abe AYE!" I again got up and tried to jerk away his hand, but before I could, he lifted his other hand dramatically.

(Hey!)

And suddenly - click.

The sound of guns echoed around us. When I looked up, I saw them - a dozen men, weapons raised, pointed at everyone's heads.

"Baith rahi ho, warna ek ek karke sabke dimaag udwa dun," he said coldly.

(You will sit, otherwise I'll blow everyone's brains out one by one.)

"Yeh kya tareeka hai?" I started, my voice trembling but words still coming out.

"Main maanti hoon aapki feelings hurt hui hain, par aap communicate kariye na! Ese gunpoint pe shaadi thode karte hain?" (I understand your feelings are hurt, but at least communicate! You don't get married at gunpoint like this.)

It sounded brave - but my heart was thundering. This wasn't bravery. This was survival panic.

"Mere teen gin ne se pehle baith jana," he said, eyes forward. (Sit down before I count to three.)

"Bitiya, baith ja!" Kusha tai cried. (Child, sit down!)

"Nahi, Noor!" Mumma screamed from somewhere behind. (No, Noor !)

"Ek..." (One...)

"Bitiya baitho!" someone yelled. (Child, sit!)

"Do..." (Two...)

Everyone was shouting now. My body froze. My brain screamed run but my legs wouldn't move.

"Teen..." (Three...)

And then - boom.

A gunshot split the air.

Screams, Crying, Chaos.

I didn't dare look. My body refused. My hands were shakinguncontrollably.

"Ek..." he said again, his tone calm - terrifyingly calm. (One...)

My knees gave way, and I fell beside him. Someone threw a dupatta over my head. The pandit's trembling voice began reciting mantras.

"Noor... Noorrr...!" I heard faint screams - Mumma's voice.

"Var-vadhu phere ke liye khade ho jaayein," the pandit said. (Bride and groom, please stand up for the pheras.)

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't even think. Aq

He stood up. Looked at me. Then, without a word, picked me up - in his arms - and started walking around the fire.

Then, without a word, picked me up - in his arms - and started walking around the fire

...Rishi pov : ...

The whole shaadi thing got over quicker than I expected. Pandit kept chanting, people kept talking, and I just wanted it done. When he finally said "vivah sampann hua", (the marriage has been completed) I stood up, dusted off my kurta, and bent to take blessings from Ma, Baba, Bhaiya, and Bhabhi. They smiled, satisfied, like everything went just as planned.

Then I turned around - and found my newly wedded wife still sitting there on the mandap like a lost child.

"Idhar aao," I ordered. (Come here.)

She flinched, hesitated for a moment, and then looked up - eyes red, face pale, and tears still fresh on her cheeks. I pointed my finger toward the ground. "Yahan... Idhar aao."

(Here. Come here.)

She got up slowly, her lehenga rustling as she moved, and came forward.

"Pair chuo sabke," I ordered. (Touch everyone's feet.)

And she obeyed - bent down, touched Ma's feet, then Baba's, then Bhaiya-Bhabhi's. Nobody said much. Ma just nodded and adjusted her dupatta while Bhabhi smiled like everything was perfectly normal.

After that, we walked toward the car - maybe at gunpoint, but all the rasams were completed properly. Traditions mattered, after all.

When we finally sat inside the car, silence filled the air. She kept her gaze fixed outside the window, clutching her dupatta.

By the time we reached the haveli, it was late. The air was cold. Ma and Bhabhi were already waiting at the doorstep, all smiles, ready with the thali for grihapravesh. (ritual of entering the house)

I stepped out first. The driver opened her side of the door, but she didn't move. I waited for a few seconds before losing patience.

"Utroo," I said sharply.

(Get down.)

She finally got out, still avoiding my eyes. Her face was streaked with black lines of smudged kohl and dried tears. The sight should've made me feel something... but it didn't.

She stood silently as Ma performed the arti, circling the plate in front of us, whispering mantras. Then came the kalash - she hesitated for a moment before lightly kicking it. Rice spilled acrossthe threshold, soft and scattered.

Next came the alta footprints - one red foot, then the other, pressing onto the white cloth as she stepped inside. Her steps were small, almost trembling, leaving behind delicate red marks.

Then the little post-wedding game - the ring hidden in a bowl of milk and rose petals. Ma laughed, saying it was for "Dekhte hain puri zindagi kiski chalegi" I dipped my hand in, eyes on her, and pulled the ring out first.

(Let's see who will have control for the rest of life.)

Of course, I did.

She stayed silent through everything. Not a single word, not a single smile. Just... quiet.

I leaned back on the sofa after the rasam ended, watching her sit there with lowered eyes.