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"YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH WATERING.
IT'S TIME TO BE THE GARDEN FOR ONCE..............."

A few days passed in a similar fashion, the monotony of routine settling in like an unwelcome guest. Nearly every relative had returned to their respective homes, leaving the Kashyap household quieter but more tense. The initial excitement of the wedding had faded, and life was resuming its usual pace.

Vatsal had taken a generous 25 days of leave from his office for the wedding festivities, but the end of this period loomed near. The next day, he was to leave for Noida to resume working from Monday onwards. The thought of returning to his structured work life brought him a strange mix of relief and stress.

Shubhita, on the other hand, was growing restless. She longed to return to her job, to the familiar comfort of her classroom and the purposeful interactions with her students.

Her current routine felt suffocating: waking up at the same early hour, performing the same household chores, and constantly striving to meet the high expectations of her in-laws. Despite her best efforts, she often felt she was falling short, a feeling that weighed heavily on her each night as she collapsed into bed, exhausted and unfulfilled. No one really welcomed her with a whole heart. Even Vatsal seemed disinterested with reference to his family affairs.

Shubhita's desire to return to work was complicated by the fact that her teaching position was at a school that was near her parents' house. Her mother-in-law, Mrs. Kashyap, had made it clear that she preferred Shubhita to focus on her new home and family responsibilities first rather than anything else. According to her, there was a whole life to fulfil other responsibilities and desires, but this phase would never come back.

To Shubhita, the idea of commuting back to her old neighbourhood was seen as impractical and disruptive.

On the eve of Vatsal's departure, the couple was in their room, a quiet tension hanging in the air. Vatsal was packing his suitcase, methodically folding his clothes, while Shubhita sat at the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

He observed her but couldn't really bring anything to his mouth.

"You seem preoccupied," he remarked, finally breaking the silence.

Shubhita glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

"I've been thinking about going back to work."

Vatsal paused, looking up from his suitcase. "I figured you would. Go ahead! Who's stopping you?"

"It's not that simple," she sighed. "Your mother... she doesn't want me to work at the same school. She thinks it's too far, too complicated."

Vatsal frowned, understanding the predicament. "Then you could find a job closer to here."

To that Shubhita offered him a done look. Luckily, he didn't notice that.

"I don't want to start over somewhere new. I've built something there," Shubhita said quietly, her frustration evident.

Vatsal nodded, his mind working through the options. "Then talk to her. This is the only option available."

Shubhita offered a faint smile, appreciating his 'huge' support and left the room enunciating. "Thanks. I seriously owe you a lot."

As the night wore on, they fell into a pensive silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Vatsal felt a pang of guilt for leaving her to navigate these challenges alone, but his own career demanded his attention. And what possibly he could do anything for her, when his family never supported him on his decisions.

The next morning, the house was unusually quiet as Vatsal prepared to leave. Shubhita helped him with the final touches, their interactions minimal but loaded with unspoken understanding.

As Vatsal's car pulled away, Shubhita stood at the doorstep, a different kind of anxiety washing over her. The days ahead promised more of the same routine, but she knew she had to find a way to reclaim her sense of purpose.

Inside, she began to tidy up the remnants of Vatsal's hurried departure. Her mind wandered to the possibility of addressing her concerns directly with her mother-in-law. It would be a difficult conversation, but one she knew was necessary.

Later that evening, after dinner, she found an opportunity. Mrs. Kashyap was sitting in the living room, knitting and watching a serial on TV. Shubhita approached cautiously, her heart pounding.

"Maa, can we talk for a moment?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Mrs. Kashyap looked up, mildly surprised. "Yes, what is it?"

"Actually, Maa... I've been thinking about returning to work," Shubhita began, choosing her words carefully.

"Didn't we already discuss about it?"

Mrs Kashyap spoke out darting her gaze back on the screen.

"I know it's far, Maa, but teaching at that school means a lot to me. I've built a rapport with the students and the staff. It's not just a job, it's a part of who I am."

Mrs. Kashyap sighed, putting her knitting down. "I understand that, Shubhi. But your responsibilities here are also important. Running a household is no small task, and it requires your full attention. It's hardly been 15 days of you being here and you think you've turned into an expert. I too want this confidence. I've been in this house for 32 years now but this confidence..."

"I know, and I'm not trying to shirk those responsibilities, Maa," Shubhita replied earnestly. "I just believe I can manage both. I'm willing to make adjustments and find a balance."

There was a long pause as Mrs. Kashyap considered her words. Finally, she spoke. "I suppose we can give it a trial period. But if it starts to interfere with your duties here, we'll need to reassess."

Shubhita felt a wave of relief. "Thank you, Maa. I promise I'll manage it well."

With that tentative approval, Shubhita felt a renewed sense of hope. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was a step towards regaining a part of herself she had feared losing. As she prepared for bed that night, she allowed herself to look forward to the challenges ahead, ready to face them with the same determination that had brought her this far.

The next day, she called her school to inform them of her return and began preparing for her commute. The familiarity of packing her teaching materials brought her a sense of calm and purpose. She decided to wake up a little earlier than usual to manage her household chores before leaving for school.

When Monday arrived, Shubhita woke before dawn. She moved through her morning tasks with quiet efficiency, making sure everything was in order before she left. Her mother-in-law observed her silently, perhaps reassured by her dedication.

As Shubhita stepped out of the house and headed towards the bus stop, she felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The bus ride to her school was long, but it gave her time to mentally prepare for the day ahead. She walked into the school building with renewed determination, greeted by familiar faces and the welcoming chaos of her students.

Throughout the day, Shubhita rediscovered her rhythm. She guided her students through lessons, their eager questions and bright eyes reigniting her passion for teaching. By the end of the day, she was exhausted but content, feeling a sense of accomplishment she hadn't felt in weeks.

Returning home that evening, she was met with curious glances from her in-laws. Mrs. Kashyap seemed to be evaluating her silently, but Shubhita remained composed. She quickly changed out of her work clothes and resumed her household duties, making sure nothing was left undone. The atmosphere was tense but manageable.

After dinner and wrapping up of the kitchen, as Shubhita sat in her room, her phone pinged.

Hey!
How was it?

It was her legal husband. Mr Vatsal Kashyap.

Good.
It felt good to be back.

Shubhita replied simply

Glad.

Good night!

Good night.

_

_

_

In Noida, Vatsal faced a barrage of questions from his colleagues and close friends about his recent marriage and his new wife. They were all eager to know how he was adjusting to married life and what his future plans were.

"So, how's the new bride? Your wife?" a colleague asked with a grin as they gathered in the break room.

Vatsal forced a smile. "Good. She's good."

"Why didn't you bring her along to Noida?" Another asked.

"She won't be comfortable over here. There's everyone at home to take care of her." Vatsal spoke out casually.

Another colleague chimed in, "Any plans for moving to a bigger place? Obviously a 1BHK must be cramped."

Vatsal nodded. "It's definitely on the cards."

Later, Vatsal caught up with his best friend Ojas and his wife Leher, who were expecting their first child. They had been unable to attend the wedding because Leher had been ill at the time.

"Sorry we couldn't be there, man," Ojas said, clapping Vatsal on the back. "How's everything going?"

"It's... going," Vatsal replied, trying to keep his tone light.

Leher smiled warmly. "We'll make it up to you. Can't wait to meet Shubhita." She then added with a wink. "Your better half."

Vatsal yawned, but his thoughts were elsewhere, already drifting back to the complexities.

Meanwhile, back in Bareilly, Shubhita was struggling to manage everything on her own. The job demands and her new role as a daughter-in-law left her with very little time for herself. The glow of a new bride had faded, replaced by exhaustion and sleep deprivation. She missed the freedom and support of her parental home, and each day felt like a test she was barely passing.

_

_

_

One evening, after a particularly long day at school and home, Shubhita found herself alone in the dining room, finishing up some last-minute chores.

It was then that her father-in-law, Mr. Kashyap, entered the room. A reserved and authoritative figure, everyone in the house seemed to fear him. Vatsal, she had noticed, often avoided being in his presence.

"You need something, Papa?," she asked him respectfully.

"No. I think I forgot my specs here," Mr. Kashyap replied, his tone formal. "Also, Shubhita, I wanted to speak with you for a moment."

"Of course, Papa," she said, trying to hide her nervousness.

He sat down, motioning for her to do the same. "How are you finding everything? Are you adjusting well?"

Shubhita nodded. "I'm managing, Papa. And everything's good."

Mr. Kashyap looked at her thoughtfully. "I've noticed. You're working very hard. How is your job going?"

"It's going well. I'm happy to be back with my students," she said, a faint smile on her lips.

He nodded, a slight hint of approval in his eyes. "Do you need anything? Is there anything we can do to make things easier for you?"

"No, Papa. I'm fine. Thank you for asking," she replied sincerely.

"Good, good. And... does Vatsal... I mean does he treat you well?" he asked, his voice lowering slightly.

Shubhita hesitated, then chose her words carefully. "Yes, Papa. He does. He's been supportive."

"Have you spoken to him today?" Mr. Kashyap inquired, trying to sound casual.

"No, Papa. We didn't get any time today," she replied.

Mr. Kashyap frowned slightly. "When does he usually call you?"

"He barely calls, Papa. He's mostly busy," she said truthfully, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Mr. Kashyap muttered under his breath, "Busy my foot." He sounded disappointed. "I had hoped that after marriage, he would understand the meaning of responsibility. It seems I was wrong."

Shubhita remained silent, unsure of what to say. She then heard her father-in-law add,

"Keep doing what you're doing, Shubhita. You have my support."

Shubhita felt a lump in her throat, touched by his unexpected concern. She had never expected such a conversation with him, and it gave her a renewed sense of hope. She realized that despite the challenges, she was not entirely alone.

_

_

_

As Mr. Kashyap watched her leave the dining room, he leaned back in his chair, lost in thought. He had hoped that after marriage, Vatsal would understand the meaning of responsibility. It seemed he had been wrong. He couldn't help but feel disappointed.

He looked around the room, taking in the quietness of the house. His thoughts drifted back to his son. Vatsal was prioritizing his own comfort and career, just as he always had, while his new wife, Shubhita, was working tirelessly to prove herself. She was handling a household that wasn't even hers yet completely, waking up early and going to bed late, just for her passion and to avoid failing in her duties.

Mr. Kashyap sighed heavily. It wasn't fair. Here was a young girl prioritizing everyone and everything but herself, while his son, the one who should be stepping up and showing responsibility, was nowhere to be found. Not even through phone calls. He had hoped that marriage would change Vatsal, would instil in him a sense of duty and care for his new family. But it seemed that hope was in vain.

He shook his head, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. With that, he resolved to quietly support her in whatever way he could, even if it meant going against the easy way he had always dealt with his own son.

As Mr. Kashyap sat alone, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily upon him, he decided he couldn't stay silent any longer. He picked up his phone and dialled Vatsal's number.

The phone rang several times before Vatsal answered, and the noise in the background was immediately apparent.

"Hello?" Vatsal's voice was raised over the din of what sounded like a party.

"Vatsal," Mr. Kashyap said, his tone clipped and stern.

"Papa? Is everything ok?" Vatsal asked, clearly surprised.

"What's all that noise?" Mr. Kashyap demanded.

"Well... nothing. It's nothing." Vatsal replied cautiously.

"Out with friends?" Mr Kashyap directly questioned.

"Yeah." Vatsal surrendered.

"While your wife struggles alone at home? Isn't it nice that while one goes partying, the other one goes to bed all exhausted and with huge work load?"

Vatsal hesitated. "Papa, it's not-"

"You have any idea how hard the girl you brought is working?" Mr. Kashyap cut him off.

"Look, Papa, I'm working hard too," Vatsal protested.

"Really? Barely call, never check in. That's working hard?" Mr. Kashyap's voice was cold. "She's managing the household and her job, that too very well, and where are you? Enjoying yourself without a care in the world. Vatsal, don't be another burden for her to bear. We did but she probably won't."

Vatsal was silent, the weight of his father's words sinking in. The background noise seemed distant now, the gravity of the situation clear.

"Papa, I'm trying-"

"Try harder," Mr. Kashyap interrupted. "Step up. She deserves better. We all do."

"Do you understand me, Vatsal?" Mr. Kashyap demanded.

"Hmm," Vatsal, left without a choice, replied quietly.

"Alright." Mr. Kashyap replied before ending the call, hoping his words would finally get through to his son. He placed the phone down with a heavy sigh, praying this confrontation would lead to the much-needed change.

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This is it for now. Hope you liked it. I am sorry for the mistakes.

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