Nitya

Finishing to cook the lunch, I head out of the kitchen to the living room, where Maaji and Chachiji are seated.

Sudha kaki has not been coming to the house since the last six days because her daughter is getting married. Before leaving, she had told me she would return after a week.

We were also called to the wedding, and I wanted to go, too, but Maaji denied me. Only she, Chachaji, and Chachiji went for the wedding.

I also could not request Prathamji to take me to the wedding. In absence of Namanji, all the works of the factory is being overseen by him, which is why he is busy these days and returns  home late from the factory.

I feel a pinch in my heart when I remember how he had reacted to me waiting for him a few days back when he returned late from the factory.

It was almost 2 am in the morning when he returned. I hadn't eaten dinner until then because, one, I wanted to wait for him, and two, Maaji goaded into me that a good wife should always serve her husband dinner and ensure he ate before eating herself.

So, waiting for Prathamji, I didn't realize when I fell asleep over the dining table.

"What are you doing here?" Prathamji's voice stirs me awake.

I rub my eyes and blink away the sleep. "Is there too much work in the factory? You got late in returning tonight too."

"Yes. Naman Bhaiyya is not here, so I need to oversee all the works in the factory. That's why I'm getting late in returning home these days."

I nod, believing him, despite feeling strange about the way he is looking everywhere else but at me.

"Go and freshen up, Prathamji. I'll reheat the food for you."

"Have you eaten?"

"No," I answer. "How can I eat before you? I was waiting for you."

"I have been getting late in returning home for the last few days. Have you been waiting for me every night without eating?" He asks, and I slightly shudder at his cold voice.

"Yes. I eat only after you have eaten."

I gasp and flinch when he suddenly bangs his fist on the table. "You don't need to do all this, Nitya. There is no need to starve yourself and no need to wait for me."

"You are my husband, Prathamji. Waiting for you is my--"

"Stop this nonsense," he interrupts me. His ticking jaw and his hands balled in fists make me realize that he is barely controlling his anger.

But why is he getting angry just because I've been waiting for him? What's wrong in that?

He was so good to me when I was sick. He was worried for me and even fed me with his own hands. Even after he returned from the factory that day, he took care of me. Fed me dinner and continued putting wet cloth over my forehead until I fell asleep.

That had made me hopeful. I had started thinking if we work on our marriage and build our relationship, love and trust will slowly seep into it.

But after I got better, he got distant. We sleep together in the same bed, but he never touches me and barely talks with me.

I've wanted to ask him several times why he is so cold to me, but stop myself every time, not knowing how to approach him regarding this.

"Why are you getting angry?" I ask deciding to at least try and figure out the reason behind his anger.

Perhaps that will give me some insight to his indifference towards me.

He takes a deep breath and looks at me. His eyes still blazing with lingering anger. "I'm too tired. I'm going to sleep," he says tightly.

I know he is avoiding answering my question, but I don't press him.

Perhaps he got angry because he is tired. I'll talk with him tomorrow morning and also ask him the questions that have been nagging me.

"Please, eat your dinner," I tell him. "Maaji told me you like bottle gourd, which is why I've made it's curry for you. Also, a few days back, you had mentioned about wanting to eat kheer. That's why, after asking Maaji, I also made it for you."

"I'm not hungry. You have your dinner. I'm going to sleep," he says, and heads to our room.

With my heart clenching painfully in my chest, I take the dishes to the kitchen and store the food in the refrigerator.

I will ask Maaji tomorrow about what to do with the leftovers.

Without eating anything, I too head to our room, already knowing that the loneliness will again envelope me tonight, despite Prathamji being in the same room with me.

"What are you doing standing there? Do I need to send you an invitation card to come here?"

Maaji's voice snaps me back to the present.

I hurriedly walk to where she is seated."I've finished making lunch."

She glares at me.

"Tu iss ghar ki bahu hai aur iss ghar ke sare kaam karna teri jimmedari hai. Dopahar ka khana banane ke baare mein aise kyun bata rahi hai ke jaise tune khana banake hum pe ehsaan kardiya hai?"

("You are the daughter-in-law of this house and it's your responsibility to do all the chores. Why are you telling me about cooking lunch in a way as if by doing it you have done a favor on us?")

"No, Maaji. I was not sa--"

"Are you seeing this, Didi? She likes to run her mouth. I don't know why did we have to get such daughter-in-law," Chachiji mutters, shaking her head at me.

"What can we do, Surekha? She has come to this house now. But its okay. We'll straighten all her bad habits in our own way." Maaji chuckles and Chachiji too joins her.

"Umm, I--"

"Shut up," Maaji shouts, interrupting me. "Can't you see we are talking? Didn't your mother teach you to not interrupt when two elders are talking?"

"Kahaan sikhaya hoga, Didi. Kuch bhi nahi sikhaya hoga isse iske gharwalon ne. Isliye toh iske bhai ne isse hamare maathe mad diya. Shayad usko pata tha ki koi jaan bujhke isse shaadi nahi karega."

("I'm sure she has not been taught anything, Didi. That's why her parents and brother dumped her on us. They might have known no one will make her the daughter-in-law of their house after getting to know how she is.")

"You are right," Maaji agrees with Chachiji. "My poor Naman. He got buried under his friendship with Yash." She sighs. "I used to think Yash was a good person. When Naman's father died, our financial condition was not good. At that time, it was Yash who helped us. It was because of him that we were able to reopen and run our factory. Then, I used to think of Yash as an angel who saved us. But I didn't know he would destroy my Pratham's life in return."

"We cannot trust anyone anymore, Didi," Chachiji says. "But I don't understand one thing. Naman had repaid Yash all the money. That too with interest. Then, why did he say yes to Nitya's marriage with Pratham?"

"He wanted to repay the favor his friend did on him," Maaji replies. "When I told him to refuse for this marriage, he refused me instead. He told me Yash had helped us when we needed it the most. That's why, when Yash asked for help, he also didn't back out."

"Yash helped us with some money. But in return, he gave us the problem which we will have to bear our whole life. Don't know what spoilage she has." Chachiji eyes me with anger and disgust marring her face. "There must be something wrong with her. That's why her brother was in such a hurry to get her married. He didn't even let us meet her properly before marriage. Didn't let us talk with her and test her."

I stand there with my head lowered and mouth shut. Tears prick my eyes at their taunts, but what can I say?

That I am not damaged goods and the hurry for the wedding was only because my father wanted to get rid of the daughter he never wanted?

Even if I tell them, I know they won't believe me, because they don't want to.

It's only been few days since my marriage, but I have realized Maaji and Chachiji enjoy hurling venomous words at me. They revel in making me suffer.

But I don't understand why they like it. I've never done anything bad to them. Never even spoken in a loud voice in front of them no matter how much their words prick at my heart.

Yet, they leave no stone unturned to hurt me.

Yash bhaiyya had reassured me about everyone being happy with this marriage. But now I know he was lying.

My marriage was nothing but a give and take between two friends. Yash Bhaiyya helped Namanji in the past, and Namanji repaid for that kindness by getting me married to Prathamji so Yash Bhaiyya could be free of the condition which Babuji had put forth.

"Stop crying," Maaji tells me. "Every time I look at you, I see the tears pouring out of your eyes."

I hurriedly wipe my tears and adjust the pallu over my head that had started to slide.

"Go to the kitchen, pack Pratham's lunch in the tiffin, and take it to him in the factory," Chachiji says to me.

I feel slightly surprised because this is the first time I have been told to take lunch for Prathamji. Usually, it's his peon, Anilji, who comes home in the afternoon and takes his lunch.

"Won't Anilji come today?" I meekly ask, hoping not to get berated for the question.

"Just do what you have been told. There is no need to use your mind and run your mouth," Maaji tells me.

Nodding at her, I head to the kitchen to pack Prathamji's lunch.