Tumhe dil nisaar karte,

Tumhe jaan nisaar karte,

Tum pyaar karne dete,

Toh tumhe kitna pyaar karte..

Ik baar karne dete,

Toh tumhe kitna pyaar karte..

Author's POV.

She didn't knew what was going on. She was just sitting on her bed, when her mother came inside and asked her to get ready.

In a red saree, like a bride. Like a bride.

Vandana helps her to get ready.

Nupur stands before the mirror in her bedroom, her reflection a vision of beauty and innocence. Her sister-in-law fusses over her, adjusting the delicate folds of her red saree with gentle precision.

Nupur's eyes widen in bewilderment as she takes in her reflection. She wears a traditional red saree adorned with intricate golden embroidery, its vibrant hue a stark contrast against her fair complexion.

Her long, dark hair cascades in soft waves down her back, adorned with jasmine flowers that release a sweet, intoxicating fragrance into the air. A delicate gold necklace graces her slender neck, its intricate design shimmering in the soft glow of the room.

Her eyes, wide and doe-like, betray a hint of uncertainty as she gazes at her reflection. She is a picture of innocence, unaware of the tumultuous events unfolding around her.

Her sister-in-law offers her a reassuring smile, her hands deftly applying a subtle touch of makeup to enhance Nupur's natural beauty. But beneath the facade of serenity, there lingers a sense of apprehension, a whisper of uncertainty that tugs at Nupur's heart.

As she stands before the mirror, Nupur's mind races with questions, her thoughts a tangled web of confusion and doubt. She is clueless about what's happening, unaware of the forces at play that have brought her to this moment.

She knew nothing.

When she came out along with her bhabhi, in the Aangan, she saw through her veil that the aangan was decorated slightly with flowers. Only a little decoration.

And there, there was mandap in the middle of the area. Where a man was sitting in red kurta, groom's turban on his head. And infront of him, sat a priest.

She looked beside her. To her bhabhi. Fearfully.

Her bhabhi gulped and nodded her head.

What? She was getting married? She. was getting married. She had a slight idea about this, but she was confused a bit and now, it was clear.

An hour ago, she had no idea. And now, she was getting married to a man whom she doesn't even know. Whom she hasn't seen even once.

"Hum aise kaise shaadi kar sakte bhabhi," she spoke in a low voice to her sister-in-law.

Vandana looked around, towards her husband and brother-in-law, sitting on the chair, gulping silently, she replied in a whisper,

"Aapke bhaiya chahte hai, Nupur, hum kuch nahi kar sakte, aap jaanti hai apne bhaiya ko."

She shook her head,

"Aise achanak hum kaise- hum nahi- hum nahi karenge."

She stopped walking.

Vandana tried to manipulate her, but she failed. And suddenly, Vikas stood up from his chair, walked towards them and whisper yelled at Vandana,

"Chala bhi nahi Jaa Raha tumse?".

"Ji..ji woh.. Nupur."

Vikas held Nupur's wrist tightly.

Her body shivered. Her feet trembled. Out of all the people in her home, she feared her elder brother the most, otherwise she was fearless.

He dragged her upto mandap. No one spoke a word.

She was made to sit beside the man. Man who was looking away with a hard face. She just sat there. Senselessly. She knew nothing. She was just breathing. She didn't realise what was going around her. Nothing.

But amidst the chaos of her thoughts, one thing remains clear - she is a bride, adorned in all her finery, ready to embark on a journey whose destination remains shrouded in mystery. And as she takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the unknown, a glimmer of determination flickers in her eyes, a silent promise to face whatever lies ahead with courage and grace.

Until she felt him filling her hairline, with vermillion. And his hands around her neck, his fingers brushing on the nape of her neck as he tied the nuptial chain, which sent a electric jolt to her entire body, shiver ran down her spine.

And, she was someone else's now. She had no identity of her own. Nothing. She didn't even knew whom she belonged to now.

She felt everyone standing up. She felt the man beside her, moving away from her. Towards someone else.

She saw black dots infront of eyes, everything blackened out. And she fainted.

***

She felt someone caressing her head.

Ladies of her house were present in the room.

Her mother caressing her head.

She sat up immediately.

"Maa- maa.. humari shaadi? Humari shadi.. aise kaise maa?".

Her mother cried.

She looked at her bhabhi, with confusion.

Her bhabhi caressed her palm.

"Aapke..aapke bhaiya .. ka hukum tha."

Her face tensed. She knew no one in this world of her family and village, goes against her brother's wish. Freaking no one. Not even her.

But why her marriage, so suddenly.

She was going to ask another question when the door of the room flew open and Vikas entered inside,

"Bahar aao, intezar kar rahe hai sab, abhi ke abhi."

Her bhabhi's stood up immediately. Holding Nupur's hand, her bhabhi helped her to get up. She covered her face by the veil and spoke softly,

"Aaiye.."

She gulped and followed behind her, silently, because no matter what, her destiny had been written just an hour ago, with another man, a complete stranger.

***

She was made to sit on the cart. She saw a woman sitting beside her, her husband's arms wrapped around her, in a securing way.

Her heart pounded.

She didn't wanted to leave. Leave in an unknown world.

Vikas came forward and muttered to her husband,

"Hume ummeed hai humari behen ka khyal rakhoge, warna dushmani kayam rahegi."

Abhisar's jaw clenched and he just nodded his head.

He ordered the rider,

"Chaliye, der ho Rahi hai hume."

The rider pulled the cart and Nupur noticed her family leaving behind. Her eyes fell with tears. Only tears.

She kept on crying. Miserably.

When they reached far away, her tears eventually dried. She didn't knew what she should feel now.

Her husband, who should have consoled her, wasn't even glaring at her once.

She fell alone. Utterly alone.

***

She felt someone shaking her by her arm.

She opens her eyes slowly. Very slowly. Her heart flutters with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as she gazes around, taking in the sights and sounds of her new surroundings. The air is filled with the sweet melody of birdsong and the distant hum of village life, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the life she left behind.

And then she saw her husband standing infront of her.

"Ghar pahuch gaye, niche utro."

She nodded, trying to correct her veil and saree. She tried to get down, but she lost her balance.

Her husband immediately held her hand and shouted,

"Dhang se utarne bhi nahi aata?".

He helped her to get down properly.

He walked towards the door and she followed him.

She wasn't welcomed. Wasn't welcomed like she had seen new brides being welcomed in her new house.

It was night, darkness surrounded the environment.

Just diya's lightened up around.

She just followed him with slow steps, inside.

They reached the aangan and she saw a woman sitting on the chair. And a man standing on the door of another room.

She saw their faces tensed. Very tensed.

Her husband started walking away when the man standing on the door spoke,

"Abhisar."

She heard her husband's name. Abhisar.

She gulped as her husband stopped immediately.

"Andar lekar jao inhe, apne kamre me."

Her husband shook his head. And she felt broken. He wasn't even ready to take her to his room?

What crime has she committed?

"Ghar ki choti Bahu hai yeh, poori izzat milegi inhe, lekar jao andar, hum shikayat nahi sunna chahte."

He walked towards another direction and signalled her to follow him.

She followed.

They entered inside the room. As soon as she stepped inside, he locked the door behind her.

He pushed her against the wall. Holding her arms tightly, almost crushing her arms. She felt something sparking her body. Fear? Anxiety? Something known that she wasn't able to figure out. He came closer, just against her lips, and spoke against her veil in a rough hoarse tone,

"Tumhe humari biwi banane ka shauk tha na tumhare Bhai ko, tumhari zindagi barbaad karke rakh denge hum."

She shivered, miserably, her palm against his chest.

She shook her head, trying to speak,

"Aa-aap aap-".

She was cut off,

"Tumhare parivaar ki karan- sirf tumhare parivaar ki karan humari bhabhi Aaj behosh padi hai. Hum tumhe chainn ki saans nahi lene denge jab Tak humari bhabhi aankhein nahi kholti."

She clenched her fingers on his kurta, tears rolling down her eyes. He was hovering high over her. They had a big height difference. She 5'1, he was 6'2.

He saw her trembling. Trembling under him. He didn't knew why, but he felt a stingy ache as he moved back immediately.

Turning back on his heels he spoke,

"Humara kamra Aaj se tumhara, sab kuch tumhara, shivaay humare. Bhul Jana ki humari shadi bhi hui thi. Tum bas iss Ghar ki choti Bahu ho, humari biwi nahi."

Her heart broke. Completely. She sobbed. Hiccuping again and again. It wasn't like someone was talking to her for the very first in this tone, she was used to this, but from her newly wedded husband, it hurt. It hurt her.

Because her mother wasn't there to console her. Her bhabhi wasn't here to wipe her tears off.

And he walked out.

She sat down on the same place, her knees against her chest, and she kept on crying. Crying. Crying.