I had imagined it to be a grand wedding since I was marrying a Thakur, but from the groom's side, nobody had come except him. My parents were more than happy to let me go. They had always talked of selling my dear Baba's house and going far away without me. I was the only burden that prevented them from doing it sooner.

My stepfather had written a letter to my father-in-law, saying he was willing to pay a hefty dowry. He also emphasized other things, like I was young, pure, well-mannered, and obedient like a doll. I didn't have a choice in the matter.

Unlike most brides, I wasn't crying during the bidai. My mother gave me strict instructions on how to behave. My husband was to be considered my God from now on. I should always listen to him and never refuse him, no matter what he asks. At the same time, my stepfather had given me an unkind glare, muttering that I should be worth the dowry.

Before we could board the train, he had bought me dinner at the railway station, which I ate quietly. It was a very kind gesture, even though he didn't talk much. My hands were dark with henna, just like the sky above us.

When he phoned his mother from the station, his voice sounded rushed and agitated. I could barely make out what he was saying.

"Haan, Ma. Woh theek hai. Maine khana khareedkar di thi..."

(Yes, Ma, she's alright. I had bought her dinner.)

His gaze drifted towards my curious eyes. I immediately looked away. His adult voice was terrifying. But then I realised that I didn't know his name. When I searched my palm, I found the hidden piece.

Bhairav.

Bhairav Chaudhary.

And I was his wife from today, Sanjana Bhairav Chaudhary.

He had the habit of being far too silent sometimes. I couldn't help but glance at him while we were in the train. His older face was cold, calculating, emotionless...

"Sanjana."

"Ji?" I grew alert immediately.

"Tumhe hamara umar pata hai?" his question was gentle, and I shook my head. My husband turned to me, "25. Aur tum?"

(Do you know how old I am?)

(25. And you?)

"13," I replied confidently because I knew it well.

"Antar jaanti ho?"

(Do you know the difference?)

"12," I replied again. He seemed quite surprised. "Tumhe padna likhna aata hai?" He asked again.

(You know how to read and write?)

"Likhna nahi aata... Par thoda thoda padhna aata hai. Magar mujhe ganit ache se aata hai."

(I don't know how to write... But I can read a little. I know arithmetic very well though.)

"Kaise aata hai?" He raised a brow.

(How?)

"Woh... Bazar jaati thi na, bachpan se. Isliye."

(I used to go to the market often... That's why...)

Bhairav Ji hummed. "Acha suno..." He cleared his throat, "Ab hum haveli ja rahe hai. Aaj se wahi tumhara ghar hai."

(Alright listen... We're going to the haveli now. That's your home from today.)

"Ji."

He stared at my face for a while, but didn't say anything. The rest of the trip was quiet. My husband had a solitary suitcase while I hugged a cloth bag against my chest. There was barely anything in it. Just three pairs of skirts and dupattas, along with one sari.

Around 11, we got down at the Kwashipur railway station, and I walked hurriedly behind Bhairav Ji. His strides were too big, difficult for me to keep up with, but he didn't turn around. I almost tripped once, and he turned to glare at me, "Dekh ke nahi chal sakti kya?" His sharp voice made me flinch.

(Can't you watch where you're going?)

"M- Maaf kijiye..."

(I- I'm sorry...)

Bhairav only clenched his jaw and walked towards the exit. There was a car waiting, and the driver rushed outside. He took the suitcase from my husband and the cloth bag from me before keeping it securely in the trunk.

"Baith ja," Bhairav commanded, and I opened the car door before sitting in the back. He sat at the front with the driver. "Mubarak ho, Chote Thakur..." He smiled at my husband, who replied with a curt nod.

(Sit down.)

(Congratulations, Chote Thakur!)

The car rolled into the gates of a large haveli. It made me gasp a little. The garden was vast and beautiful, dotted with exotic plants and bushes that were well-maintained. The verandah was spotless, and the architecture of the entire place was grand. Royal.

With shaky hands, I got out of the car.

Bhairav Ji walked towards the front door before glancing back at me, "Vaha kya khadi hai?"

(Why are you just standing there?)

I rushed to his side instantly and removed my footwear. The front door opened, revealing the Thakurain. Even she hadn't come for the wedding. Her face glowed as she looked at my husband, then at me.

"Mera beta aa gaya!" She left a soft caress on his face and turned to me, her eyes glowing in the same way, "Naam kya hai, bahu?"

(My son has returned!)

(What is your name, daughter-in-law?)

"S-Sanjana..." I whispered, my gaze lowered.

"Bhairav beta aa gaye kya?" Another woman asked from inside, and I realised it was his grandmother when she appeared at the doorway too. Bhairav Ji touched both his Maa and Dadi's feet, and I did the same.

(Did Bhairav beta return?)

His mother performed aarti for us, and I was instructed to kick the little rice pot before entering the house. Once the rituals were done, I was standing in the large hall, drinking in the sight of the haveli. A man descended the stairs, and I knew that it was Bhairav Ji's father. He didn't look very pleased, and even Bhairav Ji's Dadi gave me disapproving looks.

"Yeh hai kya ladki?" He asked while standing in front of us. I touched his feet, and he placed his hand on my head, blessing me quietly.

(Is this the girl?)

"Ji Baba," My husband sighed.

(Yes, father.)

"Chehra toh dekhe..." Dadi Ji came forward before lifting my veil. His family inspected my features, and I felt myself shrink before the strangers. My cheeks were flushed pink as I lowered my gaze.

(Let me look at her face...)

"Utni bhi kam umar nahi hai," Dadi Ji shook her head, "Mera bhi byah isi umar mei hui thi."

(She's not that young.)

(Even my marriage happened at the same age.)

I could feel Bhairav's mother look at me hesitantly. Her eyes were soft, kind... Something I had never experienced before.

"Dahej pura diya hai?" His father asked.

(Did they pay the entire dowry?)

Bhairav Ji shook his head, "Aadha. Iske pita-ji ne kaha hai ki ek mahine ke baad baaki aadha dahej bhej denge. Par mujhe maloom hai... woh din kabhi nahi aayega."

(Half. Her father said that they'll pay the remaining half after one month... I'm sure that day will never come.)

I gulped as I watched rage bubble on my father-in-law's face. He raised his voice, "Aur yeh sab maloom hone ke bawajood, is ladki se shaadi kyun ki? Kuch toh faida hona chahiye! Maine kitni baar kaha that, mat karne ke liye."

(And despite knowing all this, why did you marry this girl? There should be some benefit! How many times did I ask you not to make this decision?)

"Maine isse paiso ke liye shaadi thodi ki hai, Baba. Hum gareeb thodi hai," Bhairav Ji's voice was equally sharp. His eyes were icy and terrifying as well. "Mujhe pasand aayi, isliye shaadi ki. Aapne bhi Maa se isliye shaadi ki hai na?"

(I haven't married her for the money, Father. We aren't that poor. I married her because I like her. You married Mother for the same reason, didn't you?)

His accusation made the room go quiet. Maa coughed uncomfortably, her cheeks flushed. Baba's eyes softened as he clenched his jaw. Dadi was furious with everything.

"Hay bhagwan! Meri kismat mei yahi likha hai! Bete ne toh kabhi kadar nahi ki, ab pota bhi wahi raste par chal raha hai!" She grieved dramatically. I was really curious to know the tale behind Baba and Maa's marriage at this point, but I stayed quiet.

(Oh god! Look at my fate! My son never listened to me, now my grandson is going down the same path!)

"Bhairav ab bhi samay hai... Ise wapas ghar chodkar aa jao. Gaon mei kisi ko pata nahi hai ki tumhara shaadi ho chuka hai... Beta, hum tumhare liye ek achi ladki dundhkar layenge."

(Bhairav, there's still time... Return her home. The villagers don't know that you've gotten married. Son, we will find a proper girl for you.)

I felt scared. If Bhairav Ji were to return me home, my parents wouldn't let me live. They'd accuse me of upsetting the Thakurs.

"Nahi. Aaj se yeh yahi rahegi, meri patni hokar. Main ise us bhediyon ke ghar kabhi wapas nahi bhejoonga," Bhairav Ji was firm, and it eased the worry in my heart a little.

(No. She'll stay here from now on, as my wife. I will not send her back to those wolves' place.)

Baba realised that his son wasn't going to listen to reason. He didn't try anymore. Maa seemed a little happy though; her eyes shone with pride, and in that moment I knew that she'd be the only one I could confide in that house.

"Aaj ke baad is ghar mei tumhari man maani nahi chalegi," Baba muttered irritably before turning to his wife, "Sikhao apne bahu ko kuch. Aur iske kamre mei bhej do." He ignored me entirely.

(After today, your demands won't work in this house.)

(Teach your daughter-in-law something. And send her to his room.)

I didn't understand what was happening, but Maa Ji immediately took my hand, pulling me towards her protectively. She embraced me softly, "Kya keh rahe ho aap...? Bachi hai abhi bhi."

(What are you saying...? She's still a child.)

"Kya bachi hai?" Dadi roared while glaring between her daughter-in-law and me. "Isi umar mai maine tere pati ko paida kiya tha. Ekdum chup ho jao." Her tone was vicious, and Maa Ji looked defeated while refusing to let me go.

(How ridiculous! At her age, I had already given birth to your husband. Be quiet.)

"Maa sahi keh rahi hai, Dadi..." My husband spoke solemnly, "Jaldi mai shadi karke laaya hu. Ise kuch pata nahi hai. Aaj se aapke kamre mei soyegi."

(Maa is not wrong, Dadi...)

(I married Sanjana in a hurry. She doesn't know anything. Let her sleep in your room from today.)

"Shaadi ke baad patni ko pati ke saath hi sona chahiye." My father-in-law narrowed his eyes at my husband, but Bhairav Ji stood his ground. "Kuch saal baad mere kamre mei soyegi. Keshav aur Bhargav ke saath hum ise vidyalay bhejenge. Aur mujhe bhi sheher mei bahut kaam hai... Isliye har samay ise dhyan nahi de paunga."

(Husband and wife are supposed to sleep together after marriage.)

(After a few years, she'll shift to my room. We'll send her to school with Keshav and Bhargav. And even I have a lot of work in the city... I can't pay attention to her all the time.)

The family members gasped a little, "Vidyalay?!"

(School?!)

"Haan." Bhairav's voice was deep, authoritative, and calm. "Mai ise mere paiso se bhej raha hu. Aapko dikkat hai toh aaj hi mai yaha se nikal raha hu, ise lekar. Mai sheher jaake rahunga... Aur kabhi wapas nahi aunga."

(Yes. I'll be funding her education with my money. If anyone has any issues with that, then I'm leaving with her today. I'll go live in the city permanently and never return home.)

Nobody dared to provoke him this time, not even his Father.