Janaki was crying all morning as her brother plucked a lock of her hair during a fight. I had to take her into my arms and feed her to make her calm. Payal was beside me, playing with Raghav. She didn't know what her brother was up to. It would only make things awkward between us.

Only if Paramesh would give up on me and go after someone else...

It's like he suddenly realised he was going to die alone after hitting thirty. And I wondered if God really hated me, as I was the only option he saw? What was wrong with men?

"Mai ab bhi chupke se tasveer banati hu, pata hai?" Payal smiled to herself.

(I still draw secretly, you know?)

"Achi baat hai... Ek baar vidyalay mei aakar bacho ko bhi tasveer banana sikhao," I replied, adjusting Janu in my arms.

(That's good... You should come to the school once and teach the children there how to draw.)

Payal nearly scoffed, "Mandir, baazar aur yaha aane ki ijaazat hai, Thakurain Ji. Humare pati toh jaan se maar denge..." She sighed. Her relationship with Jagdish only seemed to be getting worse over the years. He had countless other affairs behind her back, and on some nights, he didn't even return home. Her in-laws blamed her for everything and kept pressuring her to have children.

(I only have permission to go to the temple, the market, and here, Thakurain Ji. My husband will bury me alive if he finds out...)

Our lives had ended when we were so young. Had we really committed such harsh crimes?

A maid entered the room at that time and informed us that a few elders of the village were downstairs, talking with Maa and Keshav. I kissed Janaki's head, "Gudiya, ab dard nahi hogi... Neeche mehmaan hai, unse jaakar milte hai?" I smiled.

(My doll, it won't hurt anymore. There are guests downstairs... Let's go meet them?)

Janaki looked at me with big eyes as I wiped her mouth with my pallu, "Mehmaan...?"

(Guests?)

"Haa, chale?"

(Yes, let's go?)

She raised her arms and hugged me, signalling that I pick her up. "Mujhe bhi bahut der ho rahi hai, Thakurain Ji. Mai bhi nakalti hu..." Payal told me as I fixed my sari. We went downstairs together, and Raghav sprinted towards Saarang, who was sitting in a corner, eating sugar cane.

(I've been here for a long time too, Thakurain Ji. I'll leave as well...)

Keshav was already busy talking to the villagers about the estates. Payal tried to slip outside quietly after informing Maa, but I noticed how my devar's eyes followed her. He always watched quietly whenever Payal was around. I wondered what his intentions were, but since he never approached her, I let it slide.

"Ek aur gaur ki baat karni thi..." The eldest among the villagers spoke up, a man in his late sixties. "Aapke bahu ko Baldev se baat karte hue dekha hai logo ne...  Aur gaon waalo ka khayal hain ki is tarah kisi aurat ka idhar-udhar ghoomna theek nahi hai... Khaaskar ek vidhwa ka. Ya to use vidyalay mein padhana band karna hoga ya... uski phir se shaadi kar deni hogi."

(There was another important matter... Many people have seen your daughter-in-law talk to Baldev... And it's not right for a woman to roam around like this... Especially for a widow. Either she has to stop teaching at the school, or she'll have to remarry.)

Maa gasped at his words, "Aap yeh kaisi baate kar rahe hai, Tantri Ji?! Dobara shaadi...?"

(What are you saying, Tantri Ji? Remarry...?)

Another man spoke up, "Jawaan ladki hai, Badi Malkin. Samajhne ki koshish kijiye. Aakhir kuch ho gaya toh aapki Bahu aur parivar barbaad ho jaega... Hum sirf aapko chetavni de sakte hain aur jurm hone se rokne ki koshish kar sakte hain. Faisla aapka hai."

(She's young, Badi Malkin. Please try to understand. If something happens to her, then your family will be ruined... We can only warn you and prevent something from happening. The choice is yours.)

Maa was conflicted. Keshav remained quiet and confused throughout.

But what bothered me the most was that they talked of me as if I were invisible. Did they think that I couldn't hear them? Or understand their language? What kind of entitlement did they hold?

"Agar aap gaur se sochein, toh jawab aapki aankhon ke saamne hi hai," Tantri Ji cleared his throat.

(If you think about it, the answer is right before you.)

"Aapka matlab...?"

(What do you mean...?)

A few eyes turned to my devar, "Keshav Babu ab bhi jawaan hai. Aur aapke pote poti bhi bahut chote hai... Riti rivaz ke mutabiq, agar aap inki shaadi karva de toh pehle se koi antar nahi rahega."

(Keshav Babu is still young. And your grandchildren are really small... As per traditions, if she marries him, then it will be just like earlier.)

I froze. What?

Marry Keshav?

I saw him clench his fist, "Aapki chinta keliye shukriya. Magar yeh humara parivar ka maamla hai... Aakhri phaisla hum hi karenge. Agar koi aur baat nahi hai toh aap jaa sakte hai."

(Thank you for your concern. But this is our family's matter... We'll make the final decision. If you have nothing else to say, then you can leave.)

The villagers were quite annoyed that he behaved rudely with them. But after they left, the atmosphere of the haveli felt suffocating. Maa was suddenly in tears, and I fetched a glass of water for her as she complained that her head was spinning.

"Sanjana..." Maa wept softly while holding my hand, "Woh Baldev aur Gulzar ke aadmi tumhe jeene nahi denge beta. Agar tumhe kuch ho gaya toh..."

(Sanjana... That Baldev and Gulzar's men will not let you live peacefully. And if something happens to you...)

I gulped, not even wanting to imagine it.

"Chup rahiye, Maa," Keshav muttered irritably, "Woh log bakwaas kar rahe the. Humari shaadi kaise ho sakti hai? Pagal ho gaye hai sabhi..."

(Don't say such stuff, Maa. Those people are bullshitting. How can we get married? Everyone has lost their minds...)

The haveli had changed entirely after Bhairav Ji's death. The pain was too much for Dadi to bear, and she passed away from a heart attack last year, when the children turned two. Maa had gotten a lot weaker, her appetite was less, and Keshav wasn't as playful as he used to be. He was clearly exhausted of everything, but there was nobody he could rely on.

After his outburst, Keshav excused himself and drove off somewhere. Maa was worried when he didn't come home for dinner, even I was. He probably needed some time alone.

"Didi...?" Saarang whispered as he lay flat on the bed with a book in his hands. I was busy drying the twins as I had just bathed them.

"Kya baat hai?" I asked, lifting the kids onto the bed.

(What's the matter?)

"Agar Jiju hothe toh aapko koi tang nahi karta..." He mumbled to himself while pressing the book to his face.

(If Jiju were here, then nobody would bother you like this...)

"Jiju?" Janaki blinked.

"Haan, Jiju! Tumhare Baba. Woh itne daraavne the aur takatvar bhi!" Saarang sat up suddenly and began flexing his muscles to entertain the kids.

(Yes, Jiju! Your Father. He was so scary and strong!)

Raghav gasped as he leaned forward to squeeze Saarang's arms, "Taktvar! Maa, mujhe bhi chahiye!"

(Strong! Maa, even I want it!)

I laughed at his words, "Bade hokar aap bhi takatvar ban sakte ho..."

(You can become strong after growing up too...)

Saarang squeezed his cheeks, "Bilkul tumhare Baba ke jaise."

(Just like your Baba.)

"Maa... Maa... Baba chahiye, Baba kaha hai?" Janaki squeezed my Sari as I helped her dress. These were the moments that hurt me the most.

(Maa... Maa... I want Baba. Where is he?)

"Baba chahiye...?" I whispered.

(You want your father?)

Both children eagerly nodded their heads. How could I ever say no to them? Especially since they resembled him more than I liked.

"Tehero," I got up from the bedside and went through the drawers for our wedding picture. It looked quite tattered, and I carefully ran my fingers over the creases to smooth it out.

(Give me a moment.)

"Idhar aao," I smiled, and the children huddled in my lap. Even Saarang hugged my arm as he stared at the picture curiously.

(Come here.)

"Yeh hai aapke Baba..." I brushed my thumb over his younger, chiseled face. He used to be deathly handsome back then.

(This is your Baba...)

"Baba?" Raghav leaned forward and touched the picture. I kissed his head, "Mm, Baba."

"Maa?" Janaki pointed at my younger self in the mirror, all shy and decked with jewels and a lovely wedding sari. I still had it in my cupboard.

"Haan, nau saal pehle ki tasveer hai," I chuckled. Sometimes I couldn't believe that it was so long ago.

(Yes... The picture is nine years old.)

"Nau saal?!" Saarang gasped and began counting with his fingers, "Tab toh mai paida nahi hua hu!"

(Nine years?! Then I'm not even born at that time!)

I laughed, "Nahi, chotu. Yeh meri shaadi ke din ki tasveer hai."

(No, little one. This is my wedding photo.)

"Aap dono kitne sundar lag rahe ho, Didi... Jiju toh picture ke abhineta jaise dikh rahe hai!"

(You both look so pretty, Didi... Jiju looks like the hero of a movie!)

I blushed as I stared more at the picture, "Mm, sahi keh rahe ho."

(Yeah... You're right.)

No matter how infuriating he was, Bhairav Ji had been a hero without doubt. My hero.