Aasha....A young girl who gave dreams in her life..... An epitome of beauty....Her gracefulness cooing in her silence.....Daydreaming about being a dancer...... But suddenly was dragged back to the reality....The small chirpings were heard at how beautiful she is. The ladies in the room admired the BRIDE. Yes, a bride. She sat in the chair like a sculptured statue as her eyes looked aimlessly at nothing in particular which looked almost lifeless. From head to toe. She looked drop-dead gorgeous. The beauticians behind her took continuous glances at her filling their eyes content with her beauty. One of them had her mouth closed looking at the bride as she leaned to her side and chirped how beautiful she is and the other lady nodded in approval looking at her image in the mirror. The other lady walked forward and bent down to the bride's level and opened the red lipstick. She was about to apply it when her gaze fell on her face. Her hand stopped in mid-air as she gazed at t
Aasha's pov. Today. The first day of my married life and I don't know what exactly is happening around me. Everything here seems unfair and I only get to watch as if I'm invisible to this all people. None has their eyes on me but only on their dead son and some women who are crying over his body. Today is supposed to be the day when I should be following rituals as a new bride. But here I was widowed with a white saree. The irony is though I'm his wife another woman is crying over him as if she is his wife. His dead body was laid on the floor covered with a white sheet with people surrounding him and a woman over his chest as she wept like a woman who is sincerely in vain at his departure. While me. I sat out of all those people away from the body leaning back to the pillar with my legs cuddled to my chest, my hands around my legs as I looked at her with zero expression as the tear strains on my cheeks itched. I'm outcasted from his people while I'm his wife. I don't under
That day was the day when I got to know that she is his lover and they still allowed her to cry on his chest when I was married to him and I was even made into a widow. The more I'm getting to know them the more I'm feeling scared of them. They are being unusually different. They are siding with his affair rather than a legal relationship. What am I even married into and what kind of in-laws I got myself for? I was right there dressed in white for my dead husband like a widow while she get to cry like his wife and lover. They were pitying her rather than me where I have to forever stay in this house like their daughter-in-law and his widow while she gets to live freely and independently. Everything was taken away from me. With the marriage, I lost my dance. With him, I lost my color. (Widows are supposed to wear only white and do not celebrate any festival and no sweets, in an olden era or in conservative homes which are rare at present.) I have nothing with me yet she was the one t
The same man.....On the same day a year ago........ Who had killed my husband..... Was now here in front of me...... Staring into my eyes. Suddenly the hall went silent with no one around. It is only me, him, and some people standing at the door footstep. My blocked mind had only allowed me to grasp this much. It is hard to think of anything when my nightmare is standing right in front of me. He is that man....Who killed my husband.....And I still have a dream about the blood.....With his slow footsteps booming in the hall he came and stilled in front of me with his hands locked at his back as his grey eyes looked into mine while I stepped back. His eyes surveyed me from top to bottom and then back to my eyes as they shone with evil glint and nodded his head in approval. "Expected". Was his one word and I wonder what that means. My breathing felt as if it isn't reaching my lungs and my legs slightly shook. Suddenly he snapped his fingers in front of my eyes and I blinked
"Mam. It is the police. They are coming in".A visible confusion of threads appeared on their face as they looked at him and wondered why they had come. In the meantime, Samira asked her mother if she filed any complaint against him but she said no. A flicker of doubt raised in her thinking if this as well connected to him which could bring them to the footpath and his confidence screaming in him made Yamini gulp down her tension.Yamini looked at him and their eyes met and his eyes showed what she was lying about. They taunted her about her past and crimes."Remember what you did to us? You'll pay for every f*cking thing. Every action and death will be paid off with the right amount. And I'll watch you drowning in your karma".Her eyes remained wide with shock and gulped down listening to his words. She is regretting that he left him alive and unturned. She didn't know that small kid would come back to take revenge in greater turns.Soon the police came into the picture along with ha
All the heavenly costumes and sarees were bought down to the hall and thrown down in the centre of the house where the ceiling is open rectangularly from where the house splits into multiple wings. The jwellery were thrown down roughly as the beads and diamonds spilled out. The paintings were thrown down with their family pictures.His lapdogs were committed to the work that was ordered to them and broke all those items that were precious to them.Every one were present there where Yamini, Meera and Samira stood to a side together while Asha stood diagonally opposite to them. Reaching to the centre Arnav poured the kerosene swirling it around all the materials and Yamini looked at them with intense affection to the material things as if they meant to her a lot which is ofcourse true as those were the jwellery which were handed down to the new generations by their ancestors. She tried her best to stop them from doing but they were brutally thrown on the ground.Taking out lighter from
"This is my house Mrs.Gupta. And i would do what i desire. But I'll let you know. The interior of this house is going to change to a lot extent that you can't remind your own old home"." You aren't doing anything like that".Saying that she pointed her finger at him. His eyes dropped at her finger as he glared at it and then snapped his eyes at her. His jaw twitched a little as his eyes glared at her ferociously."Mind your finger good old lady. Or i will chop it off"."You are the same still. You dare to disrespect me such way. No wonder a bastard like you have such low manners. You are a useless and bastard of waste seed. After all it is an upbringing of your mother isn----A slap echoed around the hall that startled workers as they stopped doing well their work and looked at her.Aasha gasped as she ran to her mother in law but Samira was quick to back her mother. Meera just stood there with her hand on the mouth after looking at the scenario while Aasha looked at him in disbelief
Saying that in a span of minute he reached her as now he turned to her giving his whole attention to her." Hmm"?He hummed as his hand near to her hand when she stepped back hiding her hand back and when he was about to reach her hiding hand she swiftly bought it to front as her right hand secured the left hand wrist. But then he grabbed her right hand as he pulled her with him when she resisted by gripping her feet to the ground but they were utterly useless. Though she tried to resist a lot he simply pulled her forward to the edge of the open yard in a home while Yamini, Meera and Samira stood to the right side edge of the open yard with the fire still burning the materialistic things.Dragging her along with him he pulled her to his front as she stammered by the force but he caught her at the place."I'll give a drop of example about how i will claim her and if you leave the place you will stay out tonight".Saying that suddenly he slammed his lips on her taking her by surprise as
Later, the dim light of the bathroom door crept into the room. She emerged, clothed, her hair damp and framing her face. Her steps were deliberate, yet her expression was icy and unreadable. She avoided looking at him for too long, her gaze cold and detached. The faint rustle of her movement woke him slightly, but he only stirred, his arm falling lazily over the side of the bed. She paused for a moment, her heart hammering, before slipping out of the room. *****In the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator, the cool air brushing against her face as she retrieved the juice. Pouring herself a glass, her hands trembled slightly. From her pocket, she retrieved a small packet of powdered sleeping tablets, her eyes darting toward the doorway to ensure she was alone. She emptied the packet into the glass and stirred quickly. The sound of footsteps behind her made her freeze. She turned sharply to see him standing shirtless in the doorway. His disheveled hair and the soft expression
He didn’t relax. His body remained tense, his eyes sharp and searching. “Fighting what?” he pressed, unwilling to let the matter drop. “Fighting all this,” she replied, her voice barely audible. Her gaze lifted to meet his, her sharp eyes piercing his. For a moment, she gathered her courage, the weight of the truth heavy in her chest. “In these days, I’ve realized that my fighting doesn’t change anything,” she said, her voice carrying a bitter edge. “Does it?” He didn’t respond, his silence a confirmation of the unspoken reality between them. Her next words came more forcefully, her resolve strengthening despite the tremor in her voice. “If I say I don’t want to marry you and want to leave, would you let me go?” She already knew the answer. It was etched into his every action, every word he had spoken. The announcement of his proposal was proof enough—he wasn’t planning to let her go. But still, she asked, the question hanging heavily in the air. “Tell me. Would you?” Fo
He sighed softly and extended his arm to her, an unspoken gesture of comfort and reassurance. "Come," he said, his tone gentle but firm, as if nothing unusual had just transpired. She hesitated for a fleeting second before slipping her hand into the crook of his arm, allowing him to guide her back to the event hall. The rest of the evening passed in a haze. Applause, congratulations, and polite exchanges surrounded them, but she barely registered any of it. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying his confession on the stage and the storm of emotions it had unleashed within her. Finally, the event came to a close, and they made their way to the car. The silence between them was heavy, yet he seemed unbothered by it, his demeanor calm and peaceful as he navigated the dimly lit streets. As they drove, he reached over and took her hand in his, his grip firm yet warm. She looked at him, startled, but his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. "I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a w
She was seated beside him in the front row, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The grandeur of the function hall was overwhelming, its opulence radiating from every corner. The red carpeted floor stretched beneath their feet like a royal invitation, and the dim, golden lighting bathed the room in a soft, warm glow. The space was alive with a subtle hum of whispered conversations, laughter, and clinking glasses. Everyone in attendance seemed to glimmer with a richness that extended beyond their attire, leaving her feeling like an outsider despite her carefully chosen ensemble. She had dressed to match the elegance of the event, but even in her perfectly draped saree, she felt small. The air of effortless sophistication exuded by the crowd made her question the authenticity of their joy. Their hollow laughter and picture-perfect smiles felt more like a façade than genuine emotion. The event progressed seamlessly, with guests congratulating each other and exchanging pleasantries
Her lips parted slightly in shock. Every new piece of information about his life left her more confused, more trapped in this strange, dangerous world he had forced her into. Noticing her reaction, he smirked. “Relax. My brother doesn’t kill people unless it’s necessary.” She looked down, willing her face to stay neutral. He didn’t need to see how unsettled she was. Living with him, she had learned to mask her emotions, knowing that any visible discomfort could make things worse. “Doesn’t your grandmother say anything about this?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “About you and your brother’s… profession?” He laughed outright at her question, the sound echoing off the kitchen walls. “She’s the one in charge. She keeps us in line. But she doesn’t approve of my brother’s work. It’s complicated. He joined the mafia to protect me. Back when I was in observation homes, I was safer there because of him.” “Eat,” he ordered, his voice firm, breaking her train of thought. Sh
No one in the room could sleep. She lay awake, her body tense as she remained acutely aware of him behind her. There was an unspoken understanding between them, fragile but present, like a thread stretched too thin. She was holding up her end of their silent deal—staying close, talking to him when he needed it—but she also drew her boundaries firmly. He had agreed to respect those lines, promising not to touch her, and she held him to his word. He lay on his side, clutching the loose end of her saree in his hand. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had, and he clung to it as if it could soothe the ache in him. His gaze rested on her back. If only she’d face him, he thought, he might have been able to lose himself in her expressions, her eyes. But she wouldn’t. She had made that clear. “Listen,” he said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was low, uncertain. Her eyes fluttered open, reluctant. She was on the edge of sleep, drifting, but his words pulled her back. “Yes?” she a
Only five days left, and somehow, time feels like it’s moving slower than ever. He's becoming stranger, in ways that I can’t quite wrap my mind around. He’s acting soft, almost gentle with me—and the fact that I find this behavior weird says a lot about the impression he’s left on me. I didn’t expect any softness from him, not after everything he’s done, everything he’s shown me about who he really is. Maybe things started shifting that day. Maybe he’s finally noticed how much his cruelty has affected me. Perhaps he’s softened because he saw the trauma he inflicted, or maybe he’s realized that I was never at fault to begin with—that it’s all a product of his own misguided assumptions, his projections. But this sudden change, this unexpected softness, feels almost as troubling as his previous coldness. Still, I can’t ignore that every benefit seems to come with a hidden cost. He may be gentler, yes, but now he’s becoming uncomfortably persistent, trying to engage me in conversatio
He stared at her, suspicion and surprise etched across his face. “What do you mean you didn’t receive it? I sent it directly to you.”She shrugged, a weary look crossing her face. “Maybe it never made it to me. Maybe the girl you gave it to tore it up. I don’t know. But I never saw it.”He looked away, processing her words, his face betraying a rare vulnerability, as if he were realizing what might have been. A faint trace of regret crossed his features, as though he’d lost a chance he’d never get back.“Then tell me,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. He looked back at her, his eyes almost pleading. “If the letter had reached you—would you have said yes? Would you have married me?”She exhaled sharply, a scornful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She ignored his question, refusing to indulge him. But he pressed on, a spark of desperation in his tone.“Don’t ignore me. Tell me, once and for all. If you’d known, would you have agreed? Would you have been willing to marry
Asha's mind strained, searching for fragments of a memory she could barely grasp. Had she really done what he claimed? She couldn't remember. She didn’t have memory loss, not exactly, but even now, a faint hunch nagged at her, suggesting there might be some truth to his words. Yet, no concrete recollections surfaced. Too much had happened in her life, too many chaotic events layered one upon the other. How could she remember such details, especially from those tumultuous years when everything was random, haphazard, and she was only a child? “That’s ridiculous!” she exclaimed, a bitter edge creeping into her tone. “You held a grudge over something a little girl might’ve done?” He leaned back, his expression calm as he rested a hand on his knee. His gaze settled on her, cool and detached. “I never held a grudge against you, Asha,” he replied, voice steady, almost dismissive. “Don’t go assuming things.” “Then why did you do all this to me?” she shot back, her voice tight with anger.