After dinner, my mother-in-law took me to another room and asked me to wear a new saree. She helped me put on simple jewelry and adorned my hair with jasmine flowers. Then she handed me a glass of milk and sent me to Rakesh ji’s room… I mean, our room.
I stood by the closed door, my hands trembling, my forehead beaded with sweat, terrified of his reaction. I prayed to every deity in the world to be by my side and grant me the happy ending I longed for. Finally, I knocked.
The door opened, and there stood Rakesh ji, dressed in a T-shirt and track pants. I slowly stepped inside, my whole body trembling, my hands shaking so hard I was about to drop the glass. He quickly took it from me and tried to hold my hands, but they wouldn’t stop shivering.
“Rakesh ji…” I mumbled, unable to form more words.
He guided me to sit on the bed and sat beside me, but I instantly moved away, gulping down my fear.
“Meera, relax. I’m your husband, you don’t have to be scared of me,” he said, reaching for my hand again.
But the moment his fingers brushed against mine, my past came rushing back. My chest tightened. I stood up, fidgeting nervously, wiping my sweaty face with the edge of my pallu. Despite the chill from the AC, my body burned with unease.
“Rakesh ji… we don’t really know each other yet, so… so… can we… can we take some time? I-I mean… shall we… get to know each other first? I… I don’t know you, and I’m scared. Please, Rakesh ji…” I stuttered, slowly raising my head to meet his eyes.
But the gaze that met mine wasn’t the warmth I had seen until the evening. His expression had changed—cold, hungry. He folded his arms across his chest, and the way he looked at me twisted my stomach in dread.
I knew this look. I had seen it before, the monster, the devil looked at me the same when they would torture me.
How could this be happening? Rakesh ji was supposed to be my husband, the one to make me feel safe. But instead, he was staring at my body like a predator starved for prey.
“Meera, the first time I met you at your home, didn’t I say that I am a very simple man with expectations? I married you because I expected you to be naïve and submissive. I have spent five lakhs to clear your family’s debts, ten lakhs on the marriage itself, and I’m sure your parents must have saved at least two lakhs for themselves. Be understanding and cooperative, and I’ll be a good husband. I’ll let you be today to think, but tomorrow I don’t want to hear any excuses.”
He walked out of the room, almost slamming the door, leaving me stunned.
Is this the same man who spoke so gently and sweetly? Was it all a façade? What does he really expect from me in this marriage? Why did he spend so much money? Did my parents… sell me in the name of marriage? Oh my God… am I ruined?
I plopped down on the floor, clutching my head, tears flowing endlessly.
What should I do now? What if he is like my father… or worse, like that monster?
I cried and cried until I eventually fell asleep on the cold floor.
By midnight, I woke up shivering and looked around the room. He hadn’t returned after storming out. I stepped out cautiously, my heart pounding, trying to look for him. All the doors were closed and from the room next to ours, muffled moans seeped through the silence.
I froze, my whole body numb. Feeling awkward and sick to my stomach, I turned back to return to my room. But just as I was about to shut the door, the other door opened and I hid myself behind the door and peeked outside.
Rakesh ji walked out, wearing only his pants.
I covered my mouth with both hands, the air knocked out of my lungs. There were scratches and marks all over his body. He lit a cigarette casually. And then, a few seconds later, the door opened again. Leela walked out, adjusting her saree.
My vision turned dark, and before I knew it, I collapsed on the floor.
When I woke up, I was on the bed. My mother-in-law sat beside me, watching closely. I pushed myself up against the headboard, and the events of the night came rushing back in a flood.
“Meera, good, you’re awake. You should eat well and take care of yourself. You are married now. Rakesh has gone to meet someone and will return for lunch. Go refresh yourself and rest well until he’s back. You must learn to take care of your husband.” She said this calmly before walking out of the room.
I entered the washroom and sat under the shower, crying my heart out. What should I do now? My father has been a drunkard who never cared for our family, yet he was loyal to my mother. And here I am, watching my husband walk out of a room with another woman on the very first night of my marriage. Why is life always so cruel to me? How am I supposed to look at him now?
I quickly washed up and stepped out of the washroom. I got dressed, still lost in my thoughts, when a knock came at the door. With trembling hands, I opened it and found Leela standing there with a plate of food.
“Sister, you must be tired, so I brought your food,” she said, as if she hadn’t just spent the night with my husband. I simply stared at her, but she avoided my eyes—perhaps she knew I had seen her last night.
“I think you need this food more, since you work day and night. I’m not hungry, so please take it away,” I said curtly. Once she left, I shut the door with a bang and cried out at my cursed fate.
Later, while combing my hair, I opened the drawer of the dressing table to put the comb away. I noticed some papers inside and pulled them out. They were copies of his ID cards. My eyes widened in shock, he is 39 years old. He looked so young that I never thought to ask about his age. Nineteen years older than me… almost twice my age.
Could there be anything crueller than this? My life is a complete failure. Now I know he will never agree to anything I ask of him. My dreams of going to college, of becoming a lawyer… everything will remain only dreams.
Just then, the old mobile Amma gave me began to ring, but I hated everyone at this moment, so I ignored the calls and turned it off. She is no longer my mother, and that drunkard could never be a father to me. I have lost everyone in my life. Now I must live in this hell, trapped with a pervert… or a beast.
What would he do tonight? He had already warned me, and then slept with the maid in the next room. I’m sure he must have even watched me last night. Maybe he did it deliberately—to give me a clear warning.
Why has God filled my life only with cruel men?
By afternoon, I was called to have lunch, and I couldn’t resist the firm voice of my mother-in-law. When I reached the hall, the family was already seated. She called me over and made me sit next to the man who was smiling as if nothing had happened the night before. I ate very little; my appetite vanished the moment I looked at him.
Thank God he left home after lunch. I returned to my room, lay on the bed, and drifted into a troubled sleep, my mind circling back to the horrors of last night.
By late evening, I stood by the window, gazing outside. Houses surrounded ours, yet not a single neighbor had come by. Not even after a wedding, just a day ago.
Don’t neighbors usually rush to see the new bride? Why hasn’t anyone visited until now?
I walked up to the terrace and noticed a woman on the adjacent one, collecting clothes from the line. I stared at her, hoping for a smile, a gesture, something human. But the moment she noticed me, she turned away quickly and left, almost as if she had seen a ghost.
No smile. No greetings. Nothing.
I returned to the room, my head pounding.
What is happening around me? Why does everything feel like a twisted mystery novel? My father-in-law barely speaks to me. The maid is sleeping with my husband. No neighbors or relatives have come to welcome me. The man I married has already told me he bought me and expects me to be submissive.
As night fell, dread weighed heavy on me. What would he do? Would he force himself on me? Or would he go to his mistress again? That woman, so meek and naïve in appearance, shamelessly shared his bed without fear or guilt. Does my mother-in-law know? Should I tell her? Is that why my father-in-law avoids everyone?
I didn’t want to face any of them, but again I was called for dinner. I couldn’t eat. I just moved the food around my plate until I excused myself. Back in the kitchen, I dumped the food into the trash and caught Leela washing the plates. My hatred for her burned deeper than ever.
I returned to the room and checked the time. With every passing minute, my body trembled more violently.
At 10, the door opened. He walked in, shutting it behind him. I instinctively stepped back, my throat dry, my heart hammering in fear.
He sat on the bed and patted the space beside him, motioning for me to sit. But I shook my head slowly. I wanted to retch just thinking about the moans I had heard last night. The marks on his neck, half-hidden by his shirt collar, only deepened my disgust.
He rose and started walking toward me. Panic flooded my body.
“Rakesh ji, please… give me some time. I… I’m not ready. This isn’t easy for me,” I begged, my voice shaking.
He cut me off by seizing my wrist. My body trembled as I struggled to pull away, but before I could escape, he yanked me into his arms and forced me into a suffocating embrace.
“Please, Rakesh ji… I… I can’t. Please,” I begged, my voice breaking, but he was too lost in his lust to listen. His arms tightened around me, suffocating me. Disgust churned in my stomach as my past traumas came rushing back, and I cried helplessly in his grip.
Suddenly, he shoved me back and, before I could even register it, his palm struck my cheek with a sharp slap.
“Do I look like a fool to you and your family? Didn’t your mother teach you how to please a man? Don’t pretend to be naïve. You agreed to marry me because I paid for everything—including you! So shut up and act like a submissive wife!” he screamed, his voice filled with venom, and pushed me hard onto the bed.
I folded my hands together, trembling uncontrollably, but he ignored my pleas. He switched off the light and, despite my screams and desperate struggle, he forced himself on me that night.
I lay there, motionless, like a torn doll, my body aching, my soul shattered. My life and dignity were ruined in a single night. Beside me, he slept peacefully, as though nothing had happened, satisfied after feeding his hunger.
Clutching my aching abdomen, I dragged myself off the bed. I picked up my saree from the floor and staggered into the washroom. Under the dim light, I looked down at the blood between my thighs, the cruel evidence of my ruined dignity.
I cleaned myself, my body trembling with every movement, and returned to the room. But I couldn’t bring myself to lie beside him. I collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.
That was the purpose of this marriage. That was the price he paid. I had served it already. My parents lived peacefully now, with enough money in their hands.
And I… I was nothing but a slave sold to satisfy his desires. Perhaps it was because of my youth that he paid so much.
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A/N:
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