Pratham

Watching Nitya sob, hearing her heart-wrenching cries echoing in the room, I feel a rush of guilt weighing down on me.

Her words of how she is being mistreated in this house reverberates in my mind, each one a dagger piercing through the walls I had built around myself in my bid to be indifferent to the girl I was forced to marry.

How could I have been so absorbed in my grievances that, even though she was right in front of me, I could not see her suffering?

Looking at her miserable form, I can no longer ignore the guilt gnawing at me.

I shake my head and take a deep breath as I recall what else Nitya told me.

She was right. I had known about Maa not giving her anything to eat for the whole day which had resulted in her falling sick. I had also known about her being slapped.

Also, I had witnessed how she was being ordered to do relentless chores even when she had accidentally burned her foot by spilling hot tea over it.

I had been appalled by my family then. Unable to fathom how they could keep ordering her around when she was limping, clearly in pain from the injury. That is why I had asked her to go to the room and organize the table even though it did not need any organizing.

And about those other instances, I had talked with Maa and Chachi, telling them not to starve Nitya and never to raise their hand on her again.

They had agreed to it, even had seemed remorseful when they told me they let their anger get best of them and would not repeat such mistake.

I had believed them, so I never thought to check on Nitya, feeling she was being treated well.

But I was so wrong in thinking that.

Sighing, as I gaze at Nitya, her body still trembling with sobs, I feel a pang of regret jolting my heart. I realize now that I failed in fulfilling my responsibility.

Yes, she was forcefully tied to me, but she is still my responsibility.

I hesitantly step closer to her, and reaching out, I place my hand over her shoulder.

She stiffens but does not flinch or move away from my touch. Her sobs lessen and she looks up at me, her eyes red as they peer at me.

"Nitya, I am sor—"

Before I can apologize for being neglectful toward her, I am interrupted by the door bursting open with a loud bang, and Maa storming into the room.

I have decided to call her parents and her brother here," she announces, her voice harsh, her eyes blazing with anger. "They will come and take her away from here."

I glance at Nitya and see her face pale at my mother's words. She looks at me with a mixture of fear and resignation, her body tensing as if bracing for me to agree with Maa.

In that moment, I realize the depth of her mistrust on me. I realize she really believes I would throw her out of the house.

Why would she not believe it? After the multiple times I have shouted on her, never believing her over my family, why would she not think I would abandon her if my family asked for it?

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. It pains me to see her like this, so vulnerable and alone. I had been so wrapped up in my detachment to her that I conveniently ignored to see her pain and sufferance in this house.

She does not deserve this.

Are you listening to me, right Pratham?" Maa's voice jolts me out of my reverie. "This girl must leave from here tomorrow. I can no longer tolerate her in my house."

"No," I counter, my voice firm and resolute. "Nitya won't go anywhere."

Maa's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she is speechless. But she regains her composure soon, and says, "This girl misbehaved with your Chachi, said hurtful things to her, and yet, you are defending her? What has happened to you?"

"If Chachi had not provoked her, Nitya would not have disrespected her," I tell my mother. "Respect is a two-way gate, Maa. If Chachi wants respect from others, she needs to give it to them too."

Maa's face contorts with anger, her eyes narrowing as she looks at Nitya and then back at me.

"This girl has disrespected your family's elder. Do you have any idea how hurt your Chachi is due to this? She had even decided to leave this house. It was me who stopped her, telling her that the one to leave this house should be the one who is at fault." She turns to glare at Nitya. "And everything is this girl's fault. If anyone should leave this house, it should be her."

Nitya takes a step toward Maa. "Please, listen to me on—"

"Shut up, girl," Maa interrupts her. "I do not want to hear a word from you. Whatever you wanted to say, you have said. And now, I won't let you utter one more word in this house."

Nitya flinches due to Maa's angry stare and cold voice, her eyes filled with a mix of nervousness and sadness. Seeing her that way, I feel a surge of protectiveness rise within me.

"It was not Nitya's fault. Chachi provoked her, and she reacted accordingly," I tell my mother. "If Chachi has any problem in staying in this house, then she can leave."

Hearing me, shock flits across Maa's face, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for words. "For this girl you will tell your Chachi to leave the house? What has happened to you, Pratham?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "I am not telling Chachi to leave the house, Maa. I am only saying if she has a problem in staying in this house, she can go. But I won't let her, you, or anyone else in this family to throw Nitya out of the house."

When I look at Nitya, I see shock and uncertainty marring her face, as if she cannot believe what she is hearing.

There is a tense silence in the room for a few seconds before Maa starts speaking.

"For this girl, you are going against your family, Pratham. You are not doing the right thing."

I stand my ground. "I am not going against anyone, Maa. I am only standing beside what is right."

"Come downstairs to the living room," Maa demands. "Throwing this girl out is not only my decision. Even your Chacha and Chachi want her out of the house. If you are really willing to go against all of us for this girl, come downstairs and tell everyone your decision."

She then turns her gaze to Nitya, her eyes narrowing with contempt. "Don't you dare come downstairs. You are not a part of this family, so you have no right to be involved in any family discussions."

Nitya's face falls, the hurt in her eyes clear.

This is the first time I have seen Maa talk this way with her, and it makes me wonder how much worse she and Chachi are to her when I am not around.

With a final glare at Nitya, once my mother leaves the room, I take a step closer to her.

"No one will throw you out of this house."

She looks at me with fear in her eyes. "Babuji won't let me in his house. Bhaiyya often goes to city. What if he is not in the village at this moment? Maa also won't be able to go agains—"

I cut her off softly. "I told you, Nitya. No one will throw you out of this house. You don't need to worry."

Her eyes search mine, and I hope she can see the sincerity in my words.

Reaching out, I gently place my hand on her shoulder. "Stay here. I will handle this."

When she nods at me, I turn and leave the room, my heart heavy due to the thought of the impending confrontation with my family.

As I make my way downstairs, the image of Nitya's vulnerable form flashing in my mind fuels my determination.

No matter how the things are between us, no matter I have not accepted her as my wife, but I won't neglect my responsibility toward her anymore. Even if it means having to go against my entire family to make sure she does not suffer at their hands anymore.