By the time, Ismail reached the arrived cab, his bride was already seated inside. She was dressed up in a red saree, and a reddish-golden veil covered her head and face.

Without any greeting, he sat in and glanced towards her. As the car moved, the counted number of locals waved but he was too tired to acknowledge them. He was rather surprised to see nobody crying when he left, especially with a bride. Usually, there would be a lot of drama during departure times.

Only when they crossed roads and neared the city, did Ismail sigh in relief. He was far too gone to feel happy with little things. The welcome sign of Bangalore greeted him and he finally beamed in joy. After months spent in a village, he had missed a lot.

Guiding the cab to his residence, he quickly halted him and ran to his apartment to retrieve some money. When he returned, he saw that his bride was still asleep and for a moment, he felt like letting her go with the cab driver. But he shunned that thought in order to take revenge. Sending her off would be too easy of payback for what he had suffered. So, he chose to wake her up harshly,

"Hey, wake up!"

The woman sat upright and Ismail stretched out his hand for her. It was a kind gesture and his bride was too sleepy to refuse or retort. As she got down from the cab, he was still surprised that her veil was intact. He took his luggage and turned around to enter the gate, albeit embarrassed as the dressed up woman followed. He nodded towards the watchman, ignoring his questioning look because he wasn't answerable to anyone.

Going up to his flat, as she followed, he showed her his bedroom and without a word, the woman dozed off on the soft bed. He sighed and quickly searched for an alternate phone. He had omitted most of his luggage there and it was better forgotten. There was no way on earth he'd revisit the village, not after what they had done.

When the screen lit up, Ismail quickly sent a message to Kumar and his father for a meeting the next day, regarding an urgent matter. He didn't even know how to discuss the electricity plan anymore.

And with some ease and content of reaching a safe space, Ismail slept on the couch for a very long time that night.

*****

Early mornings were not as bad as people described, particularly when there was a planned schedule for the rest of the day.

When Ismail woke up around the forenoon, he was surprised to see his bride still sleeping. But he was happy. He knew what and how things would go on and he was ready to reveal the big shock.

A quick shower, an oats meal, and his best suit – he had taken his own time to get ready. Standing in front of the mirror, he examined the tanned shade of his upper body. The bruise was close to vanishing and his exhaustion was gone with the city wind.

Something moved behind him and he turned back to see his now awake bride. She voluntarily lifted her veil, their eyes met and neither of them moved. Before he explained anything, she did the one thing that had led to their meeting in the village.

She screamed.

Loud and clear.

Ismail stayed rooted in his spot for a second or two before taking any action. The woman dared to scream in his face when he had tried nothing at all. She was insane just like the village locals.

"Shut up! You'll wake the entire building."

When she paid no heed, he quickly jumped on the bed in front of her, and pressed his palm to her mouth. Her eyes were a darker shade of brown and her eyebrows knitted in worry. But there was hardly any fear in her eyes, instead, it was anger he witnessed.

"Mmmffpph!"

"Don't scream. Understood?"

She nodded quickly and he retreated his hand. When she opened her mouth again, she exclaimed, "It is you!"

"It is me."

"Are you my husband? The one who killed Rahil?"

Ismail gritted his teeth and his jaw tightened, "I didn't kill him."

"Someone told me and I just said the same thing."

"I didn't kill him, end of discussion."

She shrugged her shoulders and got down from the fluffy bed when he gave her space. No wonder why she had slept for so long. He always purchased the best things for his apartment.

As she walked to the main hall, she was surprised to see such a furnished clean place. The walls were blue and the grey couch complimented it. The placing of the coffee table, the main stand and the lamps gave her the rich feeling that she never thought she craved. Even the floor winked at her and she almost slipped on the smooth tiles.

"Get ready, we have to go and meet my father." He ordered as he locked his sleeve with a cuff.

"He doesn't live here?"

"No."

She sighed and saw throughout. Her old seventies suitcase had to be somewhere but it wasn't. She called, "Did you unpack my suitcase?"

He rolled his eyes, wondering why she could think that. He was rich enough to be glancing at her luggage, and he replied, "No."

"Then, where is it?"

"It wasn't there in the cab."

"Did you check the dikki?" she used the word, referring to the car boot.

There was no reply and her eyes widened in surprise. She had no clothes and there was no way she could roam in that glittery outfit.

"You left my clothes in the car!"

"I didn't know that there was something more to the baggage."

"First of all, I'm not a baggage. And you forgot my suitcase. Do you know what this means?"

Her stance was alarming and her tone, threatening. But he wasn't amongst those who backed out, "If that's a threat, then you should take it back."

"I don't-" she sighed, "Do you have extra clothes for me?"

"I am a male."

She snorted, "As if there are no girls in the apartment."

"Bingo."

Ismail was clad in a formal suit but that went unnoticed by the woman. Instead, she paced in the room as she thought of ideas to get her clothes back.

"There's a clothes store around the corner. If you want, go and get it."

"I'm new here."

"I didn't ask you to come with me."

"As if I wanted to," she snorted, "I was forced."

"Me too."

Both of them exhaled at the same moment and glared at each other. They seemed to grow angrier rather than developing a healthy relationship.

"Get me some clothes. I can't come outside like this."

He folded his hands, "I'm not your servant. Say please."

"You are my husband."

He cringed at the mention, "I don't like repeating myself."

"Fine. Please." She showed all her teeth as she said it in a fake polite manner.

"Fine. There's the bathroom, you can wash up."

She nodded positively.

And that was his cue to leave. With his wallet, he marched to the corner to get his wife her first set of clothes after marriage.

*****

About ten minutes later, a loud cry echoed as soon as Ismail banged the door open. Discouraged by the sound, he hurried towards and the next scene caused him doubling in laughter.

Standing under the shower, the bride was drenched from top to bottom as she failed to turn it off.

"Why are you laughing? Help me!"

He tried to compose himself but failed terribly. However, he instructed, "Twist the tap on your left side and tap the one in the middle. It'll stop."

As misguided as she was, the tap was now turned to the warm side and she let out another scream. She pressed herself to the corner to escape the scorching hot water and scowled at her husband.

"You are supposed to help me!"

Rolling his eyes, he stepped inside, took his position beside her and turned off the taps. He shifted to face her and smirked at his victory, also mocking her failure. Nonetheless, the expression on his face faded when he calculated the distance between them. Her breathing grew heavy as his hand gradually cupped her cheek. Their eyes met and he watched them deviate to his lips.

As if obeying her silent request, he ducked his head and whispered, "Next time when you bathe, make sure you don't have your clothes on."

And he taught her a lesson never to scream, for his evil laugh was louder than all her shrieks combined.