The day before the wedding did not begin with celebration The courtyard of the Chauhan haveli had been awake long before sunrise.

Cow dung had been freshly mixed with mitti and smeared across the courtyard floor in wide, practiced strokes lipai cooling the ground, purifying the space.

The faint, raw smell of it blended with the sharper scent of haldi and the sweetness of boiling milk rising from the chulha in the corner.

A brass lota clinked somewhere.

A buffalo snorted lazily near the kotha.

And inside Women had already taken over. Their ghagras brushed against each other as they moved in rhythm, silver anklets chiming softly.

The older ones sat in a semi-circle, their dupattas pulled low, hands busy grinding haldi, mehendi, and chandan on flat stones. The younger girls whispered, giggled Eyes sparkling with mischief. “Arre kal se toh bhai dulhe ban jayenge…”

“Dekha bhi hai dulhan ko kisi ne?”

“Na re… suna hai bilkul gudiya hai…”

A soft laugh passed around. Inside a smaller room Arminder Singh Chauhan sat alone for a moment.
Still. Back straight. Elbows resting on his knees. His olive-green uniform hung on a peg behind him Pressed.

Sharp.

Familiar.

And beside it Hung the sherwani.
Cream. Heavy. Embroidered. And Unfamiliar. He looked at it once.

Then away.

“Inder!”

His chachi’s voice cut through.
“Bahaar aa, haldi ka time ho gaya!”
He stood automatically. Like responding to a command and stepped out.

They made him sit on a peedha a low wooden stool right near the tulsi plant in the courtyard. A red cloth was spread beneath his feet. Someone tied a yellow orange thread around his wrist kangna bandhai.

An elder woman, her hands wrinkled but steady, dipped her fingers into the thick haldi paste and pressed it onto his cheek. “Haldi lag jaaye toh buri nazar nahi lagti,” she muttered.

Another followed.

Then another.

Soon His face, arms, neck were smeared in yellow. Sticky. Cold.
And Uncomfortable. A cousin snorted from behind. “Arre dekhna… shaadi ke baad yeh bhi seedha ho jayega.”

Laughter erupted.

Someone flicked haldi onto his hair deliberately. “Kal toh yeh bhi chamkega. Bahu se phir sundar lagega na?” another teased.

But Arminder Didn’t react. Didn’t smile. Didn’t snap. He just sat there.
Jaw tight. Eyes distant. As if this body sitting here was present. But the man inside it was somewhere else.

At the doorway His mother stood.
Shanti Devi Chauhan. Thin. Fragile.
A shawl wrapped tightly despite the heat. Her eyes didn’t leave her son.

Not once.

There was no loud happiness in them.
No show. Just something quieter.
Heavier which was Relief And fear.

“Bhagwan kare…” She whispered under her breath.“…ab iska ghar bhi ache se bas jaaye.” Because she knew.
More than anyone else what her son was. What his life was and she already knew a man who left.

A man who might not return. And today For the first time Someone would belong to him. The haldi ended with laughter. With someone forcefully applying extra paste behind his ears.

With children clapping. With women singing a slow, teasing ban: “Banna re… banna re… ghodi chadh ke jaana re…” The dholak joined in. The rhythm picked up. And suddenly the courtyard felt alive.

By noon The next ritual began. Khaat chadhana. A charpai was brought into the centre. Ropes freshly tightened.
A red cloth tied to one leg. His tauji stood beside it.“Chadh Inder.”

Arminder stepped onto it. Firm.
Balanced. Like he would on any uneven ground. But this was not terrain. This was symbol. “Ab tu baccha nahi raha,” his chacha said.

“Ab tu ghar ka mard hai.”

“Kisi ki zimmedari hai.”

A pause.

“Kal se pati.”

Another pause.

“…kal ko baap.”

The word lingered. Very  Heavy and unexpected. For a second Something flickered in his eyes Then gone. He stepped down. The barber arrived in the afternoon. Set his small wooden box near the wall.“Baitho saab.”

Scissors clicked.

His long Hair fell. His jaw tightned again as he murmered,"Dadhi bana do bas. Moochhon ko hath mat lagana. Samajh aayi?"

He barber nodded quickly. The village boys gathered to watch. “Army wale baal bhi katwate hain kya?” one whispered.

“Pagal hai kya… inka toh roz ka hai yeh.” The tailor came next. Holding the sherwani like it was sacred.
“Dekho zara fit hai ya nahi.”

Arminder stood before a cracked mirror nailed unevenly to the wall.
He wore it then djusted the collar. And Looked at himself and for a moment He didn’t recognise the man staring back.

This was not the man who walked desert patrols. This was not the man who slept with a rifle within reach.

This was someone else. Someone being… presented. Behind him

Rajveer Singh Rathore leaned against the wall. Arms crossed. Watching everything. Amused. Detached.
“Tumhare gaon mein shaadi matlab full-scale operation hota hai,” he muttered.

Arminder didn’t look at him.
“Operation mein kam se kam dushman dikh jaata hai.”

Rajveer huffed a quiet laugh. But his eyes stayed on him. Observing.
Reading. Because he knew This silence wasn’t normal. Evening settled slowly. Like dust. The sky turned orange, then deepened.

Lanterns were lit. Smoke from chulhas curled into the air. Men gathered near the outer wall On charpais. Steel glasses in hand. Voices louder now.

His cousins argued and requested him to let them apply hena to his hands.

But he didn't agree. In the end for shagun he just dipped his hand in hena plate itself. And moved.

Looser.

“1971 ke baad bhi bharosa nahi unpe…”

“Pakistan mauka dekh raha hai…”

“Border kabhi shaant nahi rehta…”

Arminder stood among them.

Silent.

Listening.

Always listening.

One man nudged him. “Ab shaadi ho rahi hai teri…ab goli chalane se pehle ghar yaad aayega.”

A few chuckled.

Arminder’s jaw tightened. “Mere liye meri rifle ghar se hamesha zyada zaroori hogi. Baki sab dusre number.”

The laughter died.

Just like that.

Rajveer returned by then. Dust still clinging to his kurta. A magazine tucked under his arm. His eyes met Arminder’s briefly. Something unreadable passed between them.

But neither spoke.

Not here.

Not now.

Night deepened. The dholak slowed.
Women’s songs softened. Children fell asleep in corners. One by one

Lanterns dimmed. The courtyard emptied. And much later When the entire haveli had sunk into sleep Arminder lay on his charpai.

Staring at the dark ceiling. Haldi still faintly staining his skin. The thread still tied to his wrist. The weight of words still sitting on his chest pati.
zimmedari. ghar. And somewhere far A girl waited to become his wife.

He moved late at night again. To the village chowki. And placed a phone call to one of man back in contonment. And asked him to do an act.

Tommorow so he can use that as an excuse to escape from here as soon as possible. He told him,"Kal jaise hi shaadi ho. Ghar aakar bolna. Post pe jaruri kaam hai. Mujhe bulaya hai."

He returned home and rolled on his charpai. Then closed his eyes. But sleep did not come. Because tomorrow was not just a wedding.
It was a life He had not chosen But would still walk into. Like duty.

Without question.

Without pause.

........

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

I

n the Grewal house The night did not fall quietly. It arrived singing. The courtyard had been transformed since afternoon. Fresh lipai mitti had cooled the ground into a smooth, dark surface. In the centre, a low chowki was placed, covered with a bright red cloth.

Brass plates filled with haldi, mehendi cones, raw milk, and mustard oil were arranged carefully around it. Strings of marigold hung from the doorway.

Slightly uneven. Slightly crooked.
Perfectly real. Inside Women had gathered. Not in silence. Never in silence. The dholak rested in the lap of an older woman, her palms already tapping out a slow, teasing rhythm.

And then

The first geet rose.

Soft.

Playful.

“Mehendi rachne wali… haathon mein gehri laga…” Another voice joined. Then another. Until the entire room filled with layered voices Some steady. Some cracked with age.

Some high and giggly.

At the centre of it all Tejas sat on the chowki. Still. Back straight. Hands placed carefully on her lap. Her palms already trembling slightly. A yellow dupatta draped over her head.

Not heavy like a bridal ghunghatBut enough to remind her She was no longer just a daughter. “Arre haath aage kar!” One of the women laughed, pulling her wrist gently. “Dulhan banegi ya murti bani rahegi?”

Laughter erupted.

Tejas blinked.

Then slowly extended her hands.

The mehendi woman a thin lady with sharp eyes and steady fingers adjusted herself closer.“Naam likhna hai dulhe ka?”

A chorus of teasing voices immediately rose. “Haan haan! Chhupa ke likhna!”

“Dhoondhega toh pyar badhega!”

“Na dhoondh paaya toh… samajh jaana!”

Giggles.

Whispers.

Elbows nudging.

Tejas’s cheeks flushed deep red.
She lowered her gaze instantly.

“Naam kya hai?”

The mehendi woman asked casually.

Tejas hesitated. Just a second.

Poonam giggled,"Hum nahi batayenge. Tu hi bol. Bolna padega."

Tejas shot her a look. Then murmered,“…Arminder.”

The girls laughed,"Kitna bada aur darawna naam hai."

Her chest tightened. She felt offended already. But also the name felt unfamiliar on her tongue.

Heavy.

Formal.

Not hers yet.

“Arre suno suno!”

One cousin clapped.

“Mujhe toh lagta hai jija ji humari tejo ko Subah 4 baje utha denge!”

“Galti hui toh parade karwayenge!”

“Raat ko bhi bas duty duty duty!”

The girls burst into laughter. But Tejas Didn’t. Her fingers twitched slightly in the mehendi artist’s grip. Because somewhere Under all the teasing She believed it.

The mehendi began. Cool paste against her skin. Intricate vines spreading across her palms.

Circles.

Leaves.

Hidden patterns.

The name Carefully woven in.

Behind her Her friends gathered.
Poonam leaned closer. Whispering in her ear,“Suna hai bahut uncha lamba  kadd hai…tu toh choti se hai..”

Another added,“Moochein bhi hain…”

“Bilkul filmon jaisa nahi hai.”

A third one gasped dramatically,
“Arre meri mausi ke gaon mein kisi ne dekha tha usse… kehte hain aankhon se hi daant deta hai!”

They burst into giggles again. But Tejas’s breath hitched. Her eyes lifted slightly Uncertain.“Nahi… aise nahi hain woh maine dekha tha …”

She whispered. More to herself than to them. Poonam squeezed her shoulder.“Acha hai. Dar lagega thoda toh tu unhe achi lagegi.”

That stayed.

The dholak beat picked up again. This time louder. More playful. Women began a teasing ban,“Banna ne bulaya… par dulhan royi jaaye…”

Claps.

Laughter.

One of the older women leaned forward suddenly.“Sun Tejo.”

Her tone changed.

Less playful.

More… instructive.

“Kal se sasural tera ghar hai.”

A pause.

“Zyada bolna mat.”

“Pehle din se hi zubaan chal gayi toh achha nahi lagta.”

Another added,“Subah sabse pehle uthna. Paani bharna aata hai na? Roti gol bana leti hai?”

Tejas nodded quickly.“Ji.”

“Achha hai.”

“Unke toh Ghar mein bhi discipline chahiye hota hai.” That word again.

Discipline.

From the corner Her mother watched.
S

avitri Grewal. Hands clasped tightly.
Eyes fixed only on her daughter.
Every instruction Every teasing word Every laugh Cut through her quietly.

Because for everyone else This was a wedding. For her It was vidaai already beginning.

Outside The men were busy.

Arrangements. Guests. Transport.
Food. Firewood.Money being counted. Then Recounted. Her elder brothers moved in and out Devender Mahipal and Sandeep Grewal Voices firm. Steps fast. No time to sit. No time to feel.

Except One.

Sandeep. The youngest among the brothers. He paused at the doorway.
And Watched her. Really watched her.
His little sister. Hands full of mehendi.

Head covered. Sitting still. Not running around. Not laughing loudly.
Not arguing. Just… sitting. And suddenly His throat tightened.

He turned away quickly. Pretended to shout at a worker outside.“Arre woh dori theek se baandh!” But his eyes burned.

Inside The mehendi had reached her arms now. Elaborate. Dense. Darkening slowly. Girls leaned in closer. “Dikhana kal kitni gehri rang aayi!”

“Jitna gehra rang… utna pyar!”

“Arre haan!”

Another giggled,“Aur agar halka raha…”She paused dramatically.

“Samajh jaana pati pyaar nahi karta!”

A chorus of haaye filled the room.

Tejas’s fingers curled slightly.

Unconsciously.

“Bas karo tum log Mehandi hi kharab hai rang kaise aayega.” Poonam muttered softly. But she was smiling too. Because teasing Was part of the ritual. Scaring Was part of love.

Later in the night The songs slowed.
Turned softer. More emotional. One old woman began a vidaai geet prematurely,“Babul ka ghar chhoot jaaye…”

And just like that The air changed.
The laughter dimmed. Voices softened Tejas’s eyes filled. Without warning. A single tear slipped Careful not to disturb the mehendi.

Her mother looked away immediately.
Because if she met her eyes She would break. Someone quickly changed the song Back to teasing. Back to lightness. Because it was too soon.

Too soon to cry fully. Near midnight The crowd thinned. One by one Women left. Blessings given.

Foreheads kissed.

“Khush rehna.”

“Sasural mei sabki izzat  karna.”

“Maayke ka naam kharab mat karna.”

Each sentence a weight. Placed gently.
But firmly. On her shoulders Finally It was just her. Her closest ones. Her mother. Poonam and  a couple of cousins. Her hands now fully covered in mehendi Drying.

And Darkening.

She sat on her bed.

Careful.

Still.

Unmoving.

Poonam lay beside her. Whispering softly,“Dar lag raha hai?”

A long pause.

Then,“…haan.”

Barely audible.

Poonam smiled faintly.“Mujhe bhi lagega na. Jab meri shaadi hogi. Par tu sambhal legi.”

Tejas didn’t respond. Because she didn’t know if she would. Her mother came and sat beside her. Gently. Adjusted her dupatta. Ran her fingers over her head. Just like she had done since childhood.“Thak gayi?”

Soft.

Tejas nodded slightly.

Her mother leaned forward Pressed a kiss to her forehead. Lingering. Longer than usual. Because she knew Soon She wouldn’t be able to do this whenever she wanted.

That night Tejas did not sleep easily.
Her hands ached. Her back hurt. But more than that Her mind wouldn’t quiet. Images Half real. Half imagined.

A tall man. A stern face. A voice she had never heard propely except for those words"Mujhe shaadi nahi karni" so she already feared him.

And somewhere far In another village He lay awake too. Two lives On the edge of one moment. Bound not by choice. But by tradition. By families.
By a thread tied before they even met.

And tomorrow They would stand before a fire And promise a lifetime To a stranger. The morning did not wait.It arrived abruptly Like someone shaking the entire village awake.

In the Grewal house Before the sun had even risen fully Voices had already begun.“Uth jao! Aaj shaadi hai!”

“Paani garam ho gaya!”

“Kapde kahan rakhe hain?”

“Arre woh chunni sambhaal ke!”

Inside the small room Tejas Grewal Chauhan was already awake. She hadn’t really slept. Not properly.
Her eyes opened before anyone called her As if her body already knew.

Today Everything would change.
Her mehendi had darkened overnight. Very Deep and Rich.

Infact almost black in places. The women noticed immediately.

“Haaye dekho toh!”

“Kitna gehra rang!”

“Bahut pyaar karega tera pati!”

Laughter.

Teasing.

But this time Tejas’s lips curved.
Just a little. She almost looked proud. She shot a look to her friends who were teasing her last night.

“Chal, naha le.” Her mother said softly. The bathing ritual was not simple. A brass bucket filled with warm water. Mixed with a little haldi.
Alittle milk. A little oil. “Shaadi se pehle shareer saaf hona chahiye.”

One of the elder women said. They helped her. Carefully. Like she might break. Rubbing her arms with haldi again. Oiling her hair. Untangling it gently.“Kal tak choti si bachchi thi…”

One woman murmured.

“Aaj dulhan ban rahi hai.”

After the bath They sat her down again. This time for sringaar. Her hair were Parted neatly. Oiled. Then braided. Then opened again. Then styled properly. A long, thick braid finally resting down her back flowers tangled in between. And gajra. Decorated with small white flowers.

Her face Was not heavily made up.
This was not city glamour. This was village bridal beauty. A light layer of powder. Kajal dark, thick, slightly smudged at the edges. A small red bindi and Lips tinted softly. And then The lehenga. Deep red. Heavy.

Embroidery that scratched slightly against her skin not very comfortable. Weight settling onto her waist. Her shoulders. Her breath.

“Seedhi khadi reh!” Someone adjusted the dupatta. Pulled it forward.

Lower.

Lower.

Till it framed her face perfectly But also limited her world. Jewellery followed. One by one. Heavy necklace.
Longer haar. Jhumkas. Nath. Chooda.
Payal. Each piece Adding weight. And Adding silence.“Haath seedhe rakh.”

“Jhuk mat abhi.”

“Zyada mat bolo.”

Instructions layered over her like the jewellery itself. Finally They made her stand before a mirror.

A proper one this time. Borrowed from a neighbour. She looked at herself then froze. Because That girl looking back Was not the one who ran barefoot in this courtyard. Her cheeks flushed. She tried to cover her face with her hands. But her mother caught them midway.

She stared at the girl again it was not the one who laughed loudly with Poonam. Not the one who climbed trees. This girl Was quiet. Still.
Beautiful almost too beautiful.

Almost… unfamiliar.

Behind her Poonam gasped dramatically. “Arre tu toh bilkul filmon wali lag rahi hai!”

Another chimed in,

“Dulha dekhte hi gir jayega!”

“Ya phir dara dega tujhe!”

They burst out laughing.

Tejas’s smile flickered. Then faded slightly. Because the thought returned.

He and his words.

Poonam softened. For the first time.
“Dekhe bina hi darr rahi hai?”

Tejas swallowed.“…Ek baar toh dekha hai na… woh…” She didn’t finish.

Didn’t need to.

“Arre pagal.” Poonam nudged her.
“Fauji hai… raksha karega.” Then mischievous again,“Bas… thoda daantega.” The girls laughed again.

Outside The brothers were chaos.
Orders. Running. Guests arriving.
Cooks shouting. Wood being chopped.
Water being filled. Devender Grewal stood near the entrance.“Time dekh! Baraat kabhi bhi aa sakti hai!”

Mahipal Grewal was arguing with someone about seating. “Arre idhar nahi! Wahan bithao!”

And Sandeep He wasn’t shouting anymore. He stood slightly away.
Leaning against a pillar. Watching.
Just watching. Every now and then His eyes drifted toward the room where Tejas sat. And every time
His throat tightened again.

“Arre tu kya dekh raha hai?” Devender snapped. “Kaam kar!”

Sandeep straightened instantly.
“Haan…” But his voice was quieter.

Back inside The teasing hadn’t stopped. If anything It had grown worse.“Sun tejo!” One cousin sat right in front of Tejas. “Jab dulha aayega na Seedha aankhon mein mat dekhna!”

“Zyada dekha toh samajh jayega tujhe pasand hai!”

Another added,“Aur agar na dekha…”

“Toh sochega ki tu bhot akdu hai!”

They burst into laughter.

Tejas blinked.

Confused.

“Phir… kya karun main?”

Silence.

Then all of them Snapped together,

“Samajh jaayegi!”

“Arre sun…"

Another leaned in Voice lower now.
More… conspiratorial.“Raat ko na…”

Poonam immediately slapped her arm.“Chup! Pagal hai kya!”

The girls dissolved into giggles again.
Tejas’s face burned. “Tum log…!”
But she didn’t finish. Because she didn’t even know what they were implying fully. Just enough to feel Embarrassed. Flustered. And Lost.

Time passed strangely after that.

Too fast.

Too slow.

And then It came. The sound of Dhol.
Loud. Sharp. Echoing from far But getting closer. “BARAAT AA GAYI!”

A voice shouted from outside and Everything froze. For one second.
Then chaos. Girls ran.“Chal chal chal!”

“Pehle hum dekhenge!”

“Arre jaldi!”

They rushed toward the terrace.
Dupattas flying. Anklets clinking.
Bare feet hitting stairs. Poonam grabbed Tejas’s arm.“Chal!”

Tejas panicked instantly.“Nahi! Main nahi jaungi...”

“Pagal hai kya! Bas jhaank ke dekh!”

They dragged her. Half-running. Half holding her heavy lehenga. Up the narrow stairs. The terrace was already crowded. Girls peeking through the parapet. Stretching.

Whispering loudly.

“Dikha? Dikha?”

“Kahan hai dulha?”

“Arre woh ghodi pe!”

Tejas stood behind them. Heart pounding so loud She was sure everyone could hear it“Udhar ki taraf ho na  zara!” Poonam pushed someone and Made space then Pulled Tejas forward.“Dekh usse…”

Tejas hesitated. Just a second. Then Very slowly She lifted her eyes and saw him. Captain Arminder Singh Chauhan Tall. Much taller than she had remembered.  Straight-backed.

Rigid.

Like he wasn’t part of the celebration But commanding it. The sherwani fit him perfectly. But it didn’t soften him.

Nothing softened him. His moustache curved at edges. Made him look smug. Sharp. Defined. Not decorative. But utterly Authoritative.

His eyes Didn’t wander. Didn’t search.
Didn’t smile. They stayed forward.

Steady.

Unreadable.

Even from a distance He looked… intimidating.“Haaye…” One girl whispered.

“Sach mein darawna hai.” Another giggled nervously,“Par… acha hai.”

Tejas Couldn’t breathe properly.
Because everything they had said
Was true. He didn’t look like a groom.
He looked like a man who belonged somewhere else. Somewhere harsher.

Colder.

“Dekh kaise baitha hai…” Poonam whispered.“Bilkul seedha… jaise parade mein ho. Khadoos jija ji.”

And then as if sensing something
Arminder’s gaze shifted slightly.
Upward toward the terrace.

And that was it Tejas froze. Her breath stopped. Her fingers clenched into her lehenga. She tried to move,"Chal chal chal. Woh dekh rahe hain. Chal poonam." But her friends didn't move. She dropped her gaze.  Heart racing. Face burning. “Arre neeche se dekh liya! Sharma gayi!”

The girls erupted again. But Tejas Wasn’t laughing. Because in that one second She had understood something. He was not cruel.

Not exactly.

But he was not gentle either. And she Had just stepped into his world. Where softness…Might not survive easily. Below The baraat grew louder.

Closer.

The dhol thundered.

Men danced.

Voices rose.

And above a girl stood still Between fear…And something else she didn’t yet have a name for. The baraat did not enter quietly. It arrived like a storm.

Dhols beat so loudly that the walls themselves seemed to vibrate. Men danced in uneven circles, some graceful, most not, turbans slightly tilted, laughter spilling freely.

Someone fired a celebratory shot in the air from far outside the gate
startling a few children, thrilling the rest. “Arre ruk jao! Gate pe swagat hoga!” voices called.

At the entrance, the women of the Grewal house gathered with pooja thaal, diyas flickering in the evening breeze. Savitri Grewal stood at the centre, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she adjusted the aarti plate.

And then He stepped forward.
Arminder Singh Chauhan Up close
He was even more overwhelming.

The way he did not fidget, did not smile unnecessarily, did not try to ease the moment like other grooms often did. He stood like a man used to being watched Not admired.

Measured.

The aarti was performed. Tilak applied. A garland lightly brushed against his chest. Women tried to tease,“Dulhe raja muskurao zara!”

He didn’t.

Not really.

Just the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth So brief it could have been imagined. Inside Tejas was being prepared for the moment.

Her dupatta was adjusted again. Lowered slightly more over her forehead. Her jewellery straightened. Her hands checked mehendi now dark, almost black.

“Chal.”

Poonam whispered softly this time.
No teasing now. Only support. The walk to the stage felt longer than it was. Each step careful. Measured.
The anklets chiming softly beneath the chaos outside.

Her heart Beating so loudly it drowned everything else. And then She stood before him. The first proper moment. No terrace. No distance.

No escape and no denial.

Tejas Grewal Chauhan lifted her eyes Just slightly.Enough to see him clearly.

For the first time Arminder looked at her not literally but properly. Not like before. Not scanning. Not distant.

This time He paused. Because she Was not what he had expected either. She looked even more small today . Almost like a dressed up doll. Delicate.
But not fragile. There was something in her eyes Nervous, yes But steady too. Like she was trying very hard not to break in front of him.

For a fraction of a second Something in his gaze shifted. Then it was gone.

“Jaimala!” Someone shouted.

The garlands were brought. Heavy.
Fragrant. Marigold and roses intertwined. Tejas lifted hers first.

Her hands trembled.

Slightly.

And then The teasing began. The boys from his side pulled him back playfully. “Arre itni jaldi kya hai!”

“Thoda upar uthao dulhe ko!”

Laughter erupted.

Tejas froze. Because She couldn’t reach. He was too tall so Her brothers stepped in instantly. Devender Grewal and Mahipal Grewal lifted her slightly.

“Pehnao!”

Someone cheered.

She leaned forward Careful And slipped the garland over his shoulders. A wave of claps.

Cheers.

Whistles.

Now His turn. Arminder didn’t allow the teasing to go on too long. One firm step forward And the boys backed off automatically.

He lifted the garland then Paused for a second. Then placed it around her neck Without drama. Without hesitation. But his fingers Briefly brushed against her shoulder.

Tejas’s breath caught. The rituals moved quickly after that But each moment held its own gravity. They were seated before the sacred fire.

The mandap now glowing in the soft orange light of agni. The priest began chanting. His voice rhythmic.

Ancient.

Steady.

“Kanyadaan ke liye haath aage badhayein.” Tejas’s father stepped forward. Himmatsingh Grewal His hands Rough from years of field work Now trembling. He placed Tejas’s hand into Arminder’s.

Slowly.

Carefully.

As if he were placing something irreplaceable. The priest continued, “Is kanya ko aapko samarpit karte hain…” Himmat Singh’s voice broke.
Slightly. As he repeated the words.

Tejas’s fingers curled instinctively.
Just a little. As if holding onto something Anything Before letting go.

Arminder’s hand remained steady.

Firm.

Warm.

That was the first time She felt it.
Not fear. Not fully. But presence.

The sacred thread was tied. Their hands bound together. Symbolic.

Unbreakable.

Then The pheras began. They stood.
Her steps slow. Careful. Following him. The priest recited each vow and they repeated.“Pehla phera dharma aur kartavya ke liye…”

Duty.

Responsibility.

“Doosra jeevan ke aarthik aur sharirik bal ke liye…”

Strength.

Support.

“Teesra santaan aur sanskaar ke liye…”

Future.

Legacy.

“Chautha sukh aur prem ke liye…”

Happiness.

Love.

“Paanchwa santaan ki raksha aur parvarish…”

Protection.

Care.

“Chhatha har paristhiti mein saath nibhane ke liye…”

Loyalty.

“Saathva jeevan bhar ke bandhan ke liye…”

Forever.

Each round A circle of fire. A circle of fate. Tejas followed. Step by step. Her anklets echoing softly. Her breath uneven. Arminder walked ahead Measured. Grounded. Like he had already accepted what this meant Even if he hadn’t wanted it.

When the final phera ended They sat again. The priest picked up the small silver box which contained Sindoor.

The moment Every woman waited for. Every girl imagined.“Maang bhariye.”

Arminder took a pinch.

Red.

Bright.

For the first time His hand hesitated.
Just a fraction. Then He leaned forward and  Lifted her ghunghat slightly and filled the parting of her hair. The red line Settled. Warm.

Permanent.

Tejas’s eyes closed instinctively and  a tear slipped. This time No one stopped it. Then The mangalsutra. He picked it up. Black beads. Gold pendant.

Simple.

Sacred.

He leaned forward again His fingers brushing against her neck briefly as he tied it and a shiver ran down her spine.“Ab aap pati patni hain.”

The priest declared.

And just like that It was done. Not with fireworks. Not with grand gestures. But with rituals older than memory Binding two strangers Into something neither fully understood yet.

Around them People clapped. Blessings were given. Rice thrown lightly. Voices overlapped. But in that moment For just a second The world quieted.

And between them Sat something fragile. Unspoken. Not love. Not yet.
But something that could become it Or break under the weight of everything else.

And neither of them Knew which it would be Fire still crackled softly in the havan kund, its warmth lingering in the air even as the priest began gathering his things. The elders moved forward for blessings, rice grains falling lightly over bowed heads, murmurs of “khush raho” blending into one long, continuous hum.

And just when it seemed Everything had settled The real tamasha began.

“Joote kahan hai dulhe ke?” A sharp voice cut through the air. Followed by giggles. Then louder,“Arre joote chhupa lo!”

“Jaldi!”

Within seconds Chaos.

The boys from the groom’s side looked around, confused for half a second before realization hit.“Arre jooote sambhalo!”

But too late.

A group of girls had already darted forward. Quick. Precise. Well practiced. At the centre of it Poonam
Eyes gleaming. Dupatta slipping as she crouched near the mandap area And in one swift movement Snatched the shoes.“Mil gaye!”

She jumped back. Holding them up like a trophy. The girls erupted.

Laughter.

Clapping.

Teasing whistles.

“Ab bina paise ke nahi milenge!”

“Jija ji ko bina joote jaana padega!”

The boys rushed forward.

“Arre de do!”

“Paise lao!”

“Shagun do!”

“Warna bhool jao!”

Tejas Sat there. Still. Hands folded in her lap. But her eyes Shifted. Slightly.
Toward him. Toward Arminder Singh Chauhan. Everyone expected something. A smirk. A comeback.
At least a hint of playfulness.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t react.
Didn’t lean forward. Didn’t even look properly at the girls. He just sat there.

Watching.

Silent.

And The energy dipped. Just a little.

“Arre bolo na dulhe raja!” One girl tried again.“Kitne paise denge?”

Still nothing.

The boys from his side tried to jump in,“Arre hum de dete hain!”

But the girls refused immediately.
“Nahi! Hum toh jija ji ke hath se paise lenge. Warna nahi !”

Now all eyes On him. For a moment He looked at them. Properly. Not angry. Not amused. Just… steady.

Then Calmly He spoke.“Kitne chachiye?” That was it. No teasing.
No negotiation. No smile.

The girls blinked. Caught off guard.
“Arre… itni jaldi maan gaye?”

One of them muttered. Half laughing.
Half unsure. Poonam stepped forward. Trying to regain control.

“Paanch sau rupaye!”

She declared boldly.

Gasps.

“Arre itne zyada hai!”

“Kam karoo!”

Boys protested.

But Arminder Didn’t argue. He reached into his pocket. Pulled out the money. Counted it once. Without looking away. And extended it forward.

Silence.

The girls looked at each other. Confused. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. No back and forth.
No playful threats. No mock anger.
No charm. Just Agreement.

Poonam slowly took the money.
Still watching him. Trying to read something Anything. But there was nothing.They handed the shoes back.

Almost… automatically.

“Lijiye aapke joote…”

He took them then Wore them. Without a word. And just like that It ended. The laughter didn’t return properly. Not fully. Because something about him Had shifted the air. Not rudely. Not harshly. But firmly.

Tejas noticed it. More than anyone else. Because in that moment She understood something new. He would not play. Not for rituals. Not for teasing. Not for ease. And suddenly All the stories All the jokes All the laughter from last night Felt very far away. Her fingers tightened slightly over each other.

Hidden beneath the folds of her lehenga. Because if he didn’t bend If he didn’t soften Then she would have to and she didn’t even know how.

The day moved forward again. But slower now. Quieter. And somewhere in between Without anyone announcing it The real beginning of their marriage had already started.

Not with vows. Not with sindoor.
But with a simple moment Where one side laughed And the other didn’t.

And only one of them understood What that meant. Vidaai. It did not begin with loud announcements. It began quietly With someone whispering, “Taiyaar karo ladki ko…”

And suddenly Everything changed.
Tejas Grewal Chauhan sat still. Too still. The same room where she had laughed just yesterday Where mehendi songs had echoed Where her friends had teased her without mercy.

Now felt… unfamiliar. Her mother entered first. Eyes already swollen.
Hands trembling despite trying to stay composed.

Without saying anything She sat beside Tejas. Placed her palm over her head. Slowly. Gently. “Chal…” Her voice broke.“…ghar chhodna hai ab.”

That was it. That one sentence And Tejas shattered. Her breath hitched. Lips trembled. And then The tears came. Not delicate. Not quiet.

Raw.

“Maa mujhe nahi jaana…” She leaned forward instantly. Clutched her. Like a child again. Like she had when she was small.“Main… kaise jaaun…”

Outside The women had already begun the vidaai geet. Low. Heavy.
Pulling at the chest with every word.

“Babul ki duaaein leti jaa…”

“Ja tujhko sukhi sansaar mile…”

Inside Himmat Singh Grewal stood at the door. Did not step in immediately.
Because fathers Don’t know how to enter moments like this. When he finally did His eyes did not meet hers at first. He just stood there.

Looking at the floor. Then slowly He came closer and Placed his hand over her head. And that was enough.

Tejas broke further.“Papa…”

He inhaled sharply. As if steadying himself.“Rona nahi…” He said.
But his own voice betrayed him.
“Wahan… apna hi ghar samajh ke rehna…bahot ache log hain.”

Every word a struggle. Behind him Her brothers stood. Devender looked away completely. Jaw tight. Mahipal wiped his face roughly. And then Sandeep. The one who had gone quiet since morning He stepped forward.

Suddenly.

And Pulled her into a hug. Too tight.
Almost desperate.“Itni kyu ro rahi hai…” He muttered. Voice shaking.
“Aise royegi toh aa jayenge lene…”

Tejas cried harder. Because she knew That wasn’t true. Outside The dhol had stopped. Now Only sobs. And then The final ritual.

Tejas was brought to the threshold.
Asmall plate of rice was placed in her hands.“Peeche phenko…”

Someone instructed softly. She turned once. Looked at the house. The walls.
The courtyard. The door where she had stood a thousand times.

Her vision blurred. And then She threw the rice backward.

Once.

Grains scattered.

“Phir…”

Again.

Each throw was a silent farewell.

A repayment.

A breaking thread.

By the third Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. And then It was done.
She stepped forward. Out of her house..And into something unknown.

Outside The car waited. Decorated.
But quiet now. And near it Arminder Singh stood. Waiting. And tied to him Literally Was her dupatta. One end secured to his shoulder cloth.

A knot Simple.

But binding.

From now if He moved She had to move. If He stopped She had to stop.
They walked together toward the car.

Tejas couldn’t see properly. Tears blurring everything. Steps uneven.
Heavy lehenga dragging slightly.
And then Her foot caught. Just a little.

She stumbled forward and a gasp escaped her. And instantly His hand moved. Firm. Quick. Gripped her arm.
Steadying her before she could fall.

The knot between them pulled tight for a second and Both froze. A brief moment Too close. Tejas didn’t look up. She Couldn’t. But she felt it.

The strength in his grip. The control.
The awareness. He let go immediately.

But adjusted his pace. Slightly slower now. Without saying anything. They reached the car. She was helped inside in Back seat. He followed and Sat beside her. The knot still there.

Between them.

In front Men settled. Laughter returning. Lighter now. Trying to shake off the heaviness. Devender and Mahipal climbed in too in different car.  As per ritual They would accompany her. The car started.

And just like that Her village began to disappear. Tejas tried. She really tried to stop crying. She kept Wiping her tears quickly. Lowering her face.

Breathing unevenly. But every time she looked out And saw the roads she knew Fading It started all over again.

Beside her Arminder sat straight. Silent. He noticed. Of course he noticed. Her shaking shoulders. Her muffled sobs. Her constant effort to quiet herself But he said nothing.
Because he didn’t know what to say.

In front The men had started talking again.“Arre shaadi toh badhiya hui!”

“Khane mein namak thoda kam tha!”

Laughter.

One of them teased,“Dulhe raja, saas ke haath ka khana kaisa laga?”

Arminder replied Dry. Controlled.
“Hum logo  ko toh  jo mil jaaye, theek hota hai. Kal se phir mess ka khana.”

Another laughed,“Arre par mithai toh zyada meethi thi!”

Arminder shot back,“Haan, shayad issi liye jaldi khatam ho gayi.”

The men laughed louder But he didn’t.
Not fully. Just responded and he just  Played along. And once Casually He added,“Riwaaz thode ajeeb the…yahan bilkul tamasha bana diya..”

Tejas’s breath hitched.

“…itna drama joote ke liye…” He continued lightly. The men chuckled.

But Tejas Froze. Her fingers tightened in her lap. Because for him It was just a remark. But for her It was her home. Her people. Her everything.
Her eyes stung again. Fresh tears gathering. She turned her face slightly toward the window. And this time she couldn’t stop it.

The tears fell silently.

One after another.

Arminder saw that. Clearly now. And for the first time Something in him paused. So He stopped speaking. Mid conversation. Even when the men continued. He Didn’t notice But he did. Because he realized Too late That his words Had followed her into the car and hurt her.

He didn’t apologize. Didn’t explain.
But he went quiet. Completely. The rest of the journey He didn’t say another word. And beside him Tejas cried silently Trying to make herself smaller Quieter Less noticeable as if even her grief needed permission now.

And between them That knot of cloth Remained tied. Not just fabric. But something far heavier. Binding them Not gently But inevitably.

The car didn't stop immediately. It turned slightly Toward a narrower path One that led deeper into the village. The day  had settled fully now. Not loud.

Not festive.

Just Still.

A few lanterns flickered outside mud houses. Buffaloes tied near wooden posts shifted lazily. Some men sitting on charpais paused mid-conversation As the decorated vehicle passed.

“Dulhan aa gayi…”

A whisper travelled.

Slow.

Curious.

Inside the car Tejas Grewal Chauhan had stopped crying loudly. But tears still slipped. Quietly. Endlessly. Beside her Arminder Singh Chauhan sat the same way he had the entire journey.

Straight.

Still.

Aware.

He had noticed everything. The way she wiped her tears before anyone could see. The way her shoulders shook when she thought no one was looking. The way she tried to make herself… smaller. But he still hadn’t said anything. Because words Right now Felt like something he did not own.

The car stopped.“Pahunch gaye.”

Someone in the front said. The engine went silent. And for a second No one moved. Then Outside Noise returned.

Women’s voices.

Excited.

Curious.

High-pitched whispers overlapping.

“Bahu aa gayi!”

“Dekh dekh!”

“Kitni sundar hai!”

The door opened. Cool night air rushed in. Tejas’s breath hitched again. Her hand instinctively clutched her lehenga. And then she remembered The knot. Her dupatta still tied to him. Arminder stepped out first and The cloth pulled slightly.

A reminder.

She had to follow.

Slowly Carefully She stepped down.
The ground here Was different. Not her courtyard. Not her soil. This was his house. His land. And now Hers.

At the entrance A group of women stood waiting. At the centre his mother. Thin. Wrapped in a shawl.
Eyes sharp despite age. And tonight Filled with something close to… relief.

Her bahu had arrived. A brass thaal was in her hands. Diya flickering.
Kumkum. Rice.“Ruk jao inder wahin.”

She said softly.

Arminder stopped. Automatically.
Tejas halted too Because she had no choice. And The aarti began. Slow circles. Light reflecting against Tejas’s jewellery. Against Arminder’s face.

His mother's hands trembled slightly.
But her eyes did not leave Tejas. As if she was studying her. Memorizing her and Accepting her.“Pair se kalash gira.” one of the older women instructed. A small pot filled with rice was placed before the threshold.

Tejas looked at it. Then at the doorway. Then Very gently She nudged it forward with her right foot.

Rice spilled.

Softly.

“Shubh hai…” Someone murmured.

“Ab andar aa.” A thali with alta was brought.“Pair isme rakh.”

Tejas hesitated. Then stepped into the red liquid. Her feet Small. Delicate.
Now stained. “Ab andar chal.”

She stepped forward. Leaving red footprints behind her. Each step Marking her entry. Into a house That was watching her. Every corner.

Every wall.

Every eye.

Women followed.

Talking.

Whispering.

“Ghunghat thoda neeche kar.”

“Seedha chal.”

“Dheere…”

The knot between her and Arminder still held. So when he turned slightly toward the inner courtyard She followed. And once Her foot slipped again. Not falling. Just a small imbalance. The cloth tugged.

Arminder stopped immediately and Turned. His hand hovered for a second Then held her elbow. Steady.
Firm. This time a few women noticed.
A faint smile passed between them.

“Arre aree abhi se…” Someone whispered. He let go again. Without a word. Inside The main courtyard was lit. Charpais arranged. Women seated.
Men standing toward the edges. “Bahu ko bithao.”

A low wooden peedha was placed.
Tejas was made to sit. Head lowered.
Hands in her lap. Arminder stood for a moment. Then one of his chachas nudged,“Tu bhi baith.”

He didn’t sit beside her. Not immediately. He stood slightly to the side. As if unsure where exactly he belonged in this moment. Then Finally he Sat too. A little distance between them. The women began again. This time Songs.

Soft teasing geet.

About the groom.

About the bride.

About married life.

Someone leaned forward and Pulled Tejas’s ghunghat slightly.“Chehra toh dikha do…”

Tejas stiffened. But didn’t resist. Her face was revealed just a little more.

“Haaye Kitni sundar hai…”

“Bilkul gudiya jaisi hai…”

Tejas’s cheeks flushed. Eyes lowered even further. Then came the next ritual. A steel glass of milk.

“Pehle dewar ji aap piyo.”

Arminder took it and took a sip. And ran back of his hand over his mouth. Then It was extended to Tejas.

She hesitated. Just for a second. Then held it. Her fingers brushing against where his had been and drank.

A murmur of approval.

Then another game. A large parat was brought. Filled with milk and rose petals. A ring dropped inside.

“Dhoondo!” Someone laughed. “Jo pehle nikaalega, wahi raaj karega!”

The women leaned forward.

Excited.

Tejas looked at the bowl then at him.
He looked at the bowl not at her. They both dipped their hands. Her fingers trembled slightly. Searching blindly.

His movements were Controlled. Precise. Their fingers brushed once.

Tejas pulled back instantly and a  few women giggled. “Sharma gayi!”

But He didn’t react. After a few seconds He found the ring and he lifted it out.

“Dekha!”

Laughter.

“Inder jeet gaya!”

Someone teased, “Ab toh bahu ko sab maanna padega!”

Tejas gave the faintest smile. Barely visible. Because she already knew He wasn’t someone who needed games to win. Time passed. Rituals layered over rituals. Small ones. Meaningful ones.

Playful ones. And through all of it The knot remained. A constant. Binding them physically Even when everything else between them remained unspoken. At some point Devender and Mahipal prepared to leave. To sleep in one of Arminder's cousin's house.“Subah aa jayenge.”

They told her softly.

Tejas nodded. Barely holding herself together again. As they stepped away For the first time She felt it. This house was not temporary.

This was it.

And somewhere behind her without turning She knew he was still there.
Not comforting. Not distant either.

Just Present. Like something steady.
Unmoving. Something she would have to learn without being taught.

And in the courtyard of that house Under dim lantern light Between songs and silence Between teasing and restraint a marriage began.
Not loudly. Not romantically. But in small, real moments where two people sat side by side Bound together Trying to understand What that even meant.The moment the words left the soldier’s mouth.“Saab, turant chalna padega…”

Something inside the courtyard shifted. Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Just… quietly. Like a thread snapping somewhere no one could see but everyone could feel.

The dholak, which had been echoing faintly from inside, slowed… then stopped. Women who had been mid-laugh, mid-teasing, mid-song… fell silent. Even the sacred fire between them seemed to shrink, its flames lowering as if it too understood this was not how a wedding was supposed to end.

Tejas did not understand the words fully. Not the urgency. N ot the command. But she understood one thing. He was leaving.

Her fingers still trembling from the pheras, still stained deep with mehendi tightened unconsciously over the edge of her dupatta.

Her eyes lifted. For the first time that entire day and they met his. And what she saw there…was not anger. Not cruelty. It was something far worse.

Distance.

Arminder was already somewhere else. Half here. Half gone. His act perfect. Almost mechanical. A man whose body stood in front of the sacred fire…but whose mind had already turned toward the border.

Toward duty.

Toward war.

“Abhi?” His voice was low. Controlled.
But the tightness in his jaw gave him away.

“Ji, saab. Aaj hi. Immediate movement ka order hai.” The words spread through the courtyard like wildfire.

“Abhi kaise jaayega?”
“Shaadi toh abhi hui hai!”
“Bahu ghar ache se mili nahi sabse!”

Voices overlapped. Elders moved forward. Confusion, protest, disbelief. Everything collided at once. Tejas felt her breath grow shallow. Her ears rang. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned everything else.

This was the moment. The one her friends had whispered about in hushed voices the night before.
"Fauji se shaadi karegi toh yaad rakhna… woh kabhi poora tumhara nahi hota."

Her fingers tightened over her lehenga. Her throat burned.

Arminder stood up. Just like that.
No hesitation. No pause.“Farz hai mera,” he said simply.“Jaana padega.”

It was not loud. Not dramatic. But it landed heavier than any shout. So perfect that no one suspected. Except. One. Rajveer.

Tejas’s chest tightened. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something. Ask something. Stop something.But no words came out.

Her mother-in-law stepped forward, frail hands trembling.“Beta… abhi toh bahu ne griha pravesh bhi nahi kiya…”

Arminder did not look at her.“Yahin reh jayegi. Karwa Lena riti riwaj pure usse.”

Silence.

Tejas felt something inside her drop.
Not even taken. Not even… acknowledged. Just left. The courtyard seemed to tilt. Her vision blurred slightly under the weight of her ghunghat.

And then Rajveer stepped in.

“Nahi.”

One word.

Firm.

Sharp.

Unmoving.

Everyone stilled. “Abhi shaadi hui hai,” he said, voice steady but edged.
“Pehli hi ghadi chhod dena theek nahi.”

Arminder’s gaze snapped to him.“Tu mujhe mat sikha Rajveer. Tujhe pata haina wahan zaroorat hai. Tu bhi chal. Tere liye bhi order aaya hai.”

But Rajveer didn’t step back. Didn’t lower his gaze. Didn’t soften. “Par mujhe toh koi order nahi mila.”

The words hit harder than any accusation. Because they were not loud. They were not emotional.

They were true.

For a fraction of a second Arminder’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle flickered near his temple. The elders shifted uncomfortably. Eyes darting between the two officers. Between duty and dignity. Between what was right… and what was expected.

“Gaadi hai,” Rajveer continued, calmer now. “Quarter paas hi hain. Cantonment mein rahengi. Surakshit rahengi. Post ke pas sari suvidha hai.”

It wasn’t a suggestion anymore. It was a decision. Wrapped politely.

Delivered firmly.

Tejas’s breath caught. She hadn’t imagined this. Not like this. She had imagined crying in her mother’s arms. Being teased. Being welcomed.
Being slowly… gently… taken into a new life.

Not this. Not being moved like a responsibility. Not being decided over.
But decisions were already being made. Without her.

“Theek keh raha hai tumhara dost,” one elder finally said.“Bahu saath chali jaaye toh hi acha hai.”

Just like that.

Her fate shifted.

No proper pagfera.
No playful rituals.
No laughter.

Just movement.

Tejas didn’t cry loudly. Didn’t wail.
Didn’t collapse. Her tears came silently. Steadily. As if something inside her had already accepted this wasn’t going to be a normal life

It wasn’t a car it was a military jeep.

One of those olive-green ones with worn leather seats and a metal frame that rattled with every pothole.

The kind that smelled faintly of diesel, heat, and old canvas.  Arminder, being a Major, had transport available but not comfort. Not today. Today was about urgency, not ceremony.

They hadn’t packed anything properly.

No trunks. No bridal boxes. No steel trunks tied with red cloth like usual. No clothes for Tejas.

Except the heavy wedding lehenga she was still wearing and a small cloth bag her mother had shoved into her hands at the last second inside it, one extra suit, a dupatta, her bangles wrapped in newspaper, and a tiny pouch of sindoor and safety pins. That was it.

Her entire married life, stuffed into something barely bigger than a school bag. She held that bag to her chest like it could anchor her to something real.

The jeep lurched forward.

Rajveer sat in the front passenger seat. The driver was one of Arminder’s men, silent, eyes fixed on the road, pretending not to exist. The canvas flaps were half-open, letting in dust and late-afternoon light.

The road out of the village was uneven. Every bump made Tejas’s bangles clink softly against each other.

Inside the jeep, the silence was…wrong.

No teasing.
No laughter.
No shy jokes about the newlyweds.

Just tension, thick and breathing.

Arminder sat beside Tejas in the back seat.

Not touching her.
Not looking at her.
Not acknowledging her existence at all.

His knee brushed hers every time the jeep hit a pothole, and every time it happened, Tejas stiffened, expecting heat, anger, something.

But there was nothing.

That scared her more.

Rajveer turned around once, checking on them. His eyes flicked to Tejas and immediately softened. He looked away respectfully, as if reminded bhabhi.

Then Arminder spoke, finally breaking the silence.

“Tu kyun beech mein pada tha?” he snapped at Rajveer. “Maine kaha tha, usse yahin chhod dete.”

Rajveer didn’t raise his voice.
“Tu bhaag raha tha,” he said simply.

Arminder’s jaw tightened.
“Mera farz hai.”

“Farz se bhaag nahi rahe the,” Rajveer replied. “Shaadi ke baad biwi chhod ke bhaag rahe the.”

The jeep rattled over stones.

Tejas shrank into herself.

Their voices weren’t loud but they were sharp. This wasn’t friendly banter. This was two men who knew each other too well and were done being polite.

“Tu samajhta kya hai shaadi ke baare mein?” Arminder said bitterly.
“Tu sheher mein ghoomta hai, magazine khareedta hai, picture dekh ke zindagi ka hisaab lagata hai.”

Rajveer turned fully in his seat now.
“Aur tu uniform pehen ke dil utaar ke ghoomta hai?”

The words hit harder than any slap.

The driver cleared his throat awkwardly but didn’t dare interfere.

Rajveer’s gaze flicked to Tejas again quick, apologetic. “Bhabhi sun rahi hain,” he said quietly. “Shant ho jao. Unko ajeeb lag raha hoga.”

Tejas’s hands tightened around her little bag.

She wished she could disappear into it.

Arminder went silent.

Not calmer.

Just colder.

The rest of the road stretched long and suffocating.

Tejas stared at her hands. At the henna darkening on her skin. At the red bangles cutting slightly into her wrists.

She hadn’t cried during the bidaai. There had been no time. No space. No moment where grief was allowed to breathe.

And now, in this moving jeep, with dust in her mouth and a stranger as her husband, it hit her all at once.

She had left her home.

No last hug in peace.
No proper goodbye.
No crying in her mother’s lap.

Her chest tightened.

Her breath wobbled.

A small sound escaped her before she could stop it.

Then another.

Then her shoulders began to shake.

She turned her face toward the open side of the jeep, trying to hide it. But the sobs came anyway quiet at first, then uncontrollable. The kind that come from somewhere too deep to silence.

The jeep filled with the sound of her crying.

Rajveer looked back, helpless.

The driver’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

Arminder’s jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumped near his temple.

Tejas panicked inside.

He’s getting angry.
I’m irritating him.
I’m making everything worse.

She tried to stop. Pressed her dupatta to her mouth. Bit down on the fabric. But the more she tried to control it, the worse it got. Her breath hitched painfully. Her chest hurt.

She hated herself for crying.
For being weak.
For being loud.

She was sure now.

Now he will hate me more.
Now he will scold me.
Now he will hurt me.

Then..

Arminder moved.

Suddenly.

Her breath stuttered in shock.

She froze, eyes wide, heart slamming into her ribs because she felt his hand touch her wrist.