Jiya's 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.

“Jiya, jaldi naha lo!” Mumma shouted.

“Haan haan… ja rahi hoon,” I groaned, dragging myself to the bathroom.

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.

“AAAAAAA!”

Immediately, someone banged on the door. “Jiya? Kya hua?” Mumma’s voice.

“Geyser kidhar hai!?” I shouted.

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

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

“Ese? Ese kaise nahaaoooo!” I shrieked.

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

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, Jiya,” I told myself. “Just two more days and then you’re out of here.”

“Beta, taiyaar toh ho jao,” some lady said.

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

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

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

“Jiya! Jitna bola ja raha hai, utna karo,” Mumma snapped.

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

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

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

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

This time, I couldn’t ignore it. “Ek baat puchun?” I asked gently.

She nodded.

“Tum is shaadi se khush nahi ho?”

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

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

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.

Okay… I was not ready for this. But fine — tea and drama are always welcome.

“Kya hua, batao mujhe,” I said softly, holding her.

“Tum pehli insaan ho jisne mujhse ye poocha hai,” she whispered. “Warna sabne toh bas faisla suna diya.”

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

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

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.”

My jaw literally dropped. “WTF.”

She gave a sad little smile. “Sach hai, Jiya. Usne seedha muh pe bola tha.”

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

“Kya kehti? Kisi ne poocha hi nahi. Aaj pehli baar tumne mujhse poocha hai,” she said, voice cracking.

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. “Agar main tumhari jagah hoti, toh main toh bhaag jaati.”

Laxmi let out a small, watery laugh. “Mujhe bhi bhaag jaana chahiye,” she whispered. “Par... gharwale…” She trailed off.

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Rahul's 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 your eyes.

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.”

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.”

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.

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