"You can remove it."

My hands stopped fumbling with the nuptial chain around my neck.

I could feel his gaze on me, still I couldn't stop my fingers from scratching it,

Until it turned red.

I dug my nails into the palm-until the crescent moon on my palm felt like a little relief against this burn.

Even the neck-line of the suit was irritating me.

It was a soft cotton kurti.

But even the hum of the fan didn't soothe the sting.

He paced around the room-eyes scanning every trolley, like the sweat beads on his forehead were nothing.

I shifted as I tried to adjust the kurta a little bit.

Just as I picked up the cooling powder.

He held my wrist.

🌷

I had watched it the way her eyes had lingered a little longer on the cotton suit and then to the saree.

It was hot today.

The kind of July summer where everything feels unbearable.

Even the low whirr of the fan beneath the ceiling,

and we had to travel in this heat.

For almost five to eight hours.

With all the luggage.

Transfers.

It was a simple thing for me.

Before marriage.

Almost like a part of routine-after every few years.

But with her it was different.

"Wear what's comfortable to you."

She looked at me,

then shook her head,

and picked up the light green saree.

But the way she snapped the wardrobe told otherwise.

I waited,

Patiently.

"Shriya ji, wear something light.

We also have to look through the luggage along with the travel."

"Haan so that your mother could taunt right?"

She said it just like a matter of fact.

Sweat glistened from her hair,

from all the preparations.

I blinked.

I gestured for one minute with my hand.

Her brows furrowed as she kept the saree with the jerk on the bed.

The bed dipped slightly.

For once, I closed my eyes as I opened the door.

But my lips twitched just slightly.

Gussa ki adat hogayi hai, ya gussa acha lagne laga hai pata nahi.

"Mummy?"

I called out to her.

Shriya ji walked up to me.

She pressed her lips into thin lines.

I walked out as my mother looked up to me immediately.

"Mummy ye keh rahi hain ki suit nahi pehnegi kyunki aap tana maarogi."

I paused.

My eyes flickered between her and my mother.

Her hands twitched.

The clink of the bangles echoed in the silent corridor.

My mother opened and closed her mouth.

But no words came out.

"Sach mein tana maarogi kya?"

I tilted my head looking towards my mother.

She nodded and then she shook her head.

My sister hid her laugh behind her hand,

as she tried to focus on her assignment.

The silence stretched, except for the scratches of a pen as Saumya worked on her assignment.

My mother fumbled with the words.

"Haan, matlab...hum kyun maarege tana."

She looked at her.

Shriya ji lowered her gaze, pressing her fingers.

"Bas thoda sabhyata se rehna, baaki tumahari marzi."

Her eyes immediately darted to my mother as though confirming it.

But my mother looked away.

I smiled as she looked at me,

and finally a slow smile crept onto her face as well.

She walked back to the room,

and I followed her.

I was able to feel the-shine of her sindoor under the broad day light as we walked to our room.

I shook my head as I watched her scratch her neck.

Habit.

A very bad one .

Or maybe the jewellery was irritating her.

Or maybe it was the heat.

Still she didn't remove it.

The way her fingers lingered over the nuptial chain a little longer.

Looking through the mirror.

Then her hands went to grab that powder again.

She had already used it.

So many times.

Until I had lost the count.

Now the whole room smelled like Nycil,

and the burn had intensified.

I knew it the way-she clamped her fingers all together.

That was its especiality.

Gives temporary relief, then returns back much stronger.

Some things are better when they are removed for eternity-instead of temporary relief.

I held her wrist this time.

The bangles chimed in my hand.

Until the room went silent.

She looked at me,

kept the powder back.

Heat loomed into my hand.

Her palms were sweating.

Anxiety?

I genuinely looked at her.

She averted her gaze.

But her breathing slowed.

"Why?"

🌷

I knew he was able to feel my anxiety.

The way his eyes softened as he released a breath.

Still didn't leave my hand.

The burn had turned into a sharp ache-almost slicing through the skin.

Yet I couldn't bring myself to remove the nuptial chain.

Everytime my fingers lingered there.

I would remember my mother's line.

Suhaag ki nishaani hoti hai ye.

My eyes flicked to the bangles in my wrist.

Isko pehen se suhaag bana rehta hai.

I never truly believed in it.

But still some-part of me refused to accept that.

Everytime I would try to remove it.

His eyes would come in front of my eyes.

Pati ki umar lambi hoti hai.

When did I start caring about him?

Maybe-it was because of the uncertainty of the job.

Or maybe I had watched the restless nights.

When I pretended to sleep.

Why was I able to witness all of it?

Like this was all he had.

Service.

Sleepless nights.

And a few days of comfort at home,

that still didn't feel like home.

Somewhere, I believed this would help me.

I almost rolled my eyes at how irrational this felt.

But still, some part of me believed in it.

Because I had watched it-

Ever since I grew up.

My mother filled her parting-religously.

Maybe it was her way of love

My eyes almost widened as I felt his thumb moving over my knuckles.

Love-

Wait what?

"I just feel like it."

I replied as I freed my hand.

and walked to check my purse.

He followed me.

I avoided his gaze.

But his scent didn't let me.

He grabbed the purse from my hand and made me sit on the bed.

I exhaled a breath.

Still not daring to look into his eyes.

It reflected the responsibilities-and something more.

Bhagwaan?

How did I start to see this much?

He sat in front of me on the chair.

It scraped on the tiled floor.

I kept my head low.

"Ankhe humari jhukni chahiye juka aap rahi hain,

phir hum kya karenge?"

He joked.

My eyes immediately snapped to him.

I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Why am I always out of words in front of him?

Me.

Words were the only thing I knew.

It was a part of me.

But when he was in front of me.

It belonged to him.

How?

"Lagta hai socha hoga ladka sundar hai fasa lete hain, esliye haan kardiya nahi?"

I rolled my eyes at his effort to flirt.

"Haan esliye toh time chahiye keh kar, ek mahine baad haan kardi aur daudte-daudte koi aya tha nahi?"

He chuckled.

It resonated through the walls.

His brows softened.

"Are you going to remove it now, itni care ki adat nahi hai hume aur achi bhi nahi lag rahi hai."

He smiled as he looked into my eyes.

"Gussa hi acha lagta hai aap par."

I smiled.

The tick of the clock echoed at the side table.

"Manana toh hai hi nahi."

I mumbled as my hands worked to remove the chain.

My fingers paused just for a second but his voice snapped me back.

"I am here."

I opened it up,

and the cool air rushed to my neck.

Yet it didn't feel right.

My fingers tightened around the nuptial chain.

But he grabbed my hand, helping me to stand up.

I shook my head as I kept the nuptial chain,

in my purse.

It was still with me.

He was here with me.

To be continued.

Unedited.