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NUPUR

Today was Teej, a day I had longed for since I arrived at my parents' home.

The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the village, the sound of the temple bells ringing in the distance, and the sweet scent of flowers filled the air. It should have been perfect—after all, I was surrounded by my family, back in the home where I grew up, where every corner held a memory.

But there was a part of me that still felt incomplete.

My fast began at sunrise, and although the hunger pangs would surely follow as the day wore on, I didn’t care.

I was too happy to let anything dampen my spirits. For the first time in what felt like forever, my heart was light.

Last evening, as I sat in the aangan and overheard Abhisar and my father talking, I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing.

They had spoken calmly, with understanding and a willingness to let go of the past. It was the kind of conversation I had hoped for but never truly expected.

I smiled, remembering how my father had opened up to Abhisar, offering him a sense of welcome that hadn’t been there before.

Abhisar had listened quietly, his usual hesitance fading as he nodded in agreement, his guard slowly lowering. In that moment, I knew things would be different from now on. The unspoken tension between Abhisar and my family, the unsaid words that had kept them apart, all seemed to fade away.

Puja wasn't now. It was at evening.

But as I prepared for the day’s celebrations, dressing in the traditional saree my mother had laid out for me, there was a lingering sadness that I couldn’t shake.

I looked at my reflection in the small mirror, the bright red and green of my saree reflecting the joy of the occasion, but my heart wasn’t as full as it should have been.

Abhisar wasn’t here.

He had left yesterday, just after dropping me off. I hadn’t expected him to stay, but a part of me had hoped he would, at least for Teej.

I wanted him to see me dressed up for the festival, to be with me as I performed the rituals, to share in the joy of this fresh start with my family.

I wanted him to see that this village, my village, was not something to be feared or avoided.

That it was a place full of love, where people cared for each other, where I had been shaped into the woman he loved. But he had left, and the empty seat beside me was a reminder that some things take time.

I sighed, pushing back the ache in my chest as I tied the green bangles around my wrist. The sound of laughter and chatter from the courtyard below drifted into the room, a reminder that today was a celebration, and I couldn’t let myself dwell in disappointment.

I had to believe that Abhisar would come around, that eventually he would feel comfortable here.

After yesterday’s conversation, I was hopeful. They had talked, and both seemed ready to forget the misunderstandings of the past. That in itself was a big step forward. Maybe next year, he would stay, and we could celebrate together.

For now, I would focus on the present—on the festival, on my family, on the fresh beginnings that lay ahead.

I adjusted my saree one last time, although the shringar was still left. I took a deep breath, pushing aside the longing in my heart for Abhisar’s presence.

I was freshly our of the shower, just in my saree and bangles in my hand. I picked up the pot of vermillion in my hand but when I turned around, my eyes fell on my Badi-Bhabhi who was feeding her son, my nephew.

I kept the pot aside, and sat beside her on the edge of the bed, and held her hand,

“Bhabhi, aap humse naraz hai kya?”

She shook her head, cupping my cheek,

“Aapse kyu naraz honge, Nupur. Aap toh humesha se humari beti jaisi hai.”

I gulped, “Bhaiya...”

She let out a sad humorless laugh,

“Aapke bhaiya the bhi, toh bhi hum akele hi rehte the. Kuch khass badlav nahi aaya humari zindagi me, sirf itna ki ab sab vidhwa keh kar bulate hai, aur koi hum par haath nahi uthata bewajah..”

"Even when your brother was there, I lived alone. Nothing much has changed in my life, except now everyone calls me a widow, and no one raises a hand on me without reason..."

I lunged forward and hugged her tightly, tears forming in my eyes.

When we broke our hug, she cupped my cheeks,

“Aap chinta mat kijiye, Nupur. Sab theek hojaega... Bas aaj ki raat guzar jaye...”

I frowned,

“Kyu? Fir kya hoga?”

“Fir a—” She was cut off by Choti Bhabhi who entered inside the room, while speaking,

“Fir hume thoda baat karne ka mauka milega aur. Kitne din ho gaye chainn se baith kar hum logon ne baatein nahi ki.”

I smiled,

“Ji bhabhi, sach keh rahi hai aap. Aap logon ki bahut yaad aati hai hume.”

“Aw. Hume bhi, humari pyari nanad. Chinta mat kijiye, chaliye humare sath, mehendi lagane aayi hai aurtein.”

She held my hand, and literally pulled me out of the room.

But, I was happy. They've faced a lot, atleast they are trying and keeping me happy here, forgetting all about the past.

I sat in between the crowd of women, who had come to see me from different houses of village.

One of the young girl, came infront and sat beside me with bowl of mehndi in her hand.

“Kitni Sundar lag rahin hai aap, dulhan ke roop me aur khilengi.”

I smiled.

I forwarded my hand to her, and she started applying me henna.

One of the women came infront of me, and cupped my chin lovingly,

“Nazar na lage. Kitni Sundar lag rahi hai.”

The other one followed,

“Bechari ...”

“Haan.. Kam se kam ab kismat thik ho gayi iski... Sada suhagan rahe.”

“Han warna iska pati t—”

“Kaki...kaki, idhar aaiye na,” Choti bhabhi pulled them out, “Hume bhi baithne dijiye humari nanad ke sath.”

I smiled as she sat down beside me.

We didn't talk, because Choti bhabhi and me? We were never so connected. Never.

I was always connected more with Badi Bhabhi. She was my second mother.

Maa came forward with another bowl.

“Shabnam.. lagao isey,” she said to one of my relatives.

I saw in the bowl, and it was haldi.

“Haldi?” I asked my mother.

She nodded her head, smiling a little,

“Pehla vrat hai, rang khilega. Lagao.”

I smiled to my mother.

How sweet of her.

The aunties came forward and applied me haldi, all over my body while the elderly ones sang geet.

Everything finished my early noon, and I finally entered inside my bathroom, to take a bath again.

It felt so refreshing.

I didn't feel at all, as if I was on a fast.

I hope Abhisar would have been here. How happy he would have been, to see me happy.

I miss him.

I miss him a lot.

I was in the bathroom, pouring water from a bucket over my head as I stood under the tap. I closed my eyes, and Abhisar's face appeared in my mind. I missed him.

I wondered if he misses me too. I hope he does. I hope he's thinking about me right now, just like I'm thinking about him.

I poured another bucket of water over my head, then reached for the soap to wash my body.

I'll be back home soon and then we'll have all the time in the world to be together. Until then, I'll just have to satisfy myself with memories.

I smiled softly, remembering our last night together. He was so rough yet gentle, so loving...

I poured the water over my head, and I let my hand trail down my body, cupping my breasts, then sliding down over my stomach.

My fingers found the folds of my womanhood, and I remembered how Abhisar had caressed me there just a day ago.

I remembered how his touch had made me feel, the way he had brought me to pleasure.

My body ached for him now, my breasts feeling heavy, my nipples hard. I slipped a finger between my folds, finding myself wet. I bit my lip, trying to suppress a moan.

He was right when he said that whenever I'll touch myself, I'll remember him.

I'll chant his name.

I leaned back against the wall, my breath hitching as I touched myself.

I imagined it was Abhisar's hand, his fingers sliding in and out of me, his thumb pressing against my most sensitive spot. I felt the pressure build, my hips bucking against my hand.

I quickly finished washing, my mind still consumed by thoughts of Abhisar. I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around me, trying to calm my racing heart.

But as I walked back to my room, I could feel the heat between my legs, the throbbing of my pussy.

I lay down on my bed, my fingers trailing along my collarbone, down to the edge of the towel. I slowly unfastened it, letting it fall open. I touched my breasts, pinching my peaks, then let my hand drift down to my core once more.

I spread my legs, my fingers parting my folds.

I was so wet, so ready.

I imagined Abhisar's face between my thighs, his breath hot on my skin. I pictured his tongue on me, his fingers inside me, and the mental image pushed me closer to the edge.

I began to move my fingers in and out of myself, my hips lifting off the bed. I could hear the sound of my wetness, the slippery noises my body made. I bit my lip harder, trying to hold back a moan.

I felt the tension coil tight in my core, my muscles clenching around my fingers.

I pressed my free hand over my mouth to muffle my cries as the waves of pleasure washed over me. I slumped back on the bed, boneless and satisfied, Abhisar's name a whisper on my lips.

After a few minutes, I got up and began to dress, my mind still reeling from my secret fantasy.

I carefully wrapped the saree Priya Didi had given me around my waist, the soft fabric feeling cool against my skin. I tucked the ends in and adjusted the pallu, making sure everything was in place.

I looked at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the young woman staring back at me. The saree was a deep shade of red, with intricate golden patterns woven into the fabric. It shimmered as I moved, the pallu catching the light.

I felt beautiful, like a bride.

I was about to begin doing my solah shringar, when someone knocked on door.

I opened the door and found my Badi Bhabhi standing there.

She stepped inside with a smile on her face, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Humne socha hum taiyyar kar de tumhe.”

I smiled shyly.

“Ji, bhabhi.”

I sat on the chair ready to shine on my first Teej.