A/N - This is the tale between Bhairav's parents. If you like this, I'll write more about them :)

Red glass bangles adorned my hands. They were the ones that he had bought for me. I stared at my mehendi-clad hands. My husband's name was written in beautiful cursive letters.

Virender.

Virender Chaudhary.

I still remembered the first time we met in the temple. I had only come to this village to meet my cousin, when a lost child bumped into me. I didn't know that he was the Thakur's son. Even though he was only seven, he had been quite restless and weary of strangers. When I tried to help wash his bruised knee, he kept very stiff and refused to cry.

That was when his Father found us. I would never forget the look in his eyes as he took Bhairav from me. He hadn't looked away the entire time. If it had been our village, my Father would have gotten involved. Countless times boys had oogled at me or passed comments, but with my Father around, none of them dared to even raise their eyes.

Virender Ji was different. There was something mysterious about his calculating eyes. Deep down, they felt sinful, and I had to look away, almost blushing.

"Aapka naam?"

(May I know your name?)

Those were the first words he spoke to me, and my heart was racing because of his voice. Our eyes met again briefly, but before I could answer, my cousin rushed towards us. She apologized with her head low, and only then did I know that this was her village Thakur. Even though my cousin quickly pulled me away from him, he had sent one of his men to our place that very evening. And over the span of three months, he spoke to my Father, came to our home with his family, and fixed the date of the wedding.

All the people around me narrated strange tales about Virender Chaudhary. They said he was a man who loved money more than anything in the world, and even his mother made my father agree to a hefty dowry.

I also heard that he was rude towards most and had very few allies. Honestly, all the tales had scared me... But when Virender Ji came home to ask for my hand officially, he had requested some time alone to talk to me. He had walked with me in our backyard, admiring the guava trees.

"Gaon ki Thakurain banne mein bahut saari zimmedariya hai..." He spoke solemnly, "Aur un sab zimmedariyo se badkar bhi ek hai... Bhairav."

(Being the Thakurain of the village comes with many responsibilities... And above all those responsibilities, there is one more... Bhairav."

"Bhairav?" I asked in confusion.

"Mera beta hai... Uski Maa pandrah saal ki thi... Use janam dete woh guzar gayi..." He spoke carefully, guilt flashing in his eyes. I didn't know much about his first wife, except that it took him seven years to get over her death.

(He's my son... His mother was fifteen... She died while giving birth to him...)

"Bina Maa ke woh bigad jayega..." Virender mumbled, and stared up at the guava tree. He plucked two ripe ones and wiped them on his kurta before handing the better one to me.

(He'll grow up spoiled without a mother...)

"Aap isliye mujhse shaadi karna chahte ho?" I asked softly, "Aapke bete keliye?"

(Is that why you want to marry me? For your son?)

Virender stared at me quietly until he looked away, "Bina shaadi kiye mai bhi bigad jaunga..." He spoke those words almost to himself. It made me chuckle, and I walked ahead, taking a bite of guava. He followed me quietly, and we didn't talk anymore.

(Without marrying, even I'll be spoiled.)

And now we were married today. Even though my relatives and the villagers claimed that Virender Ji was harsh towards everyone, I beleived he was quite gentle. I already loved him for that.

The door creaked open. I expected to see my husband but there was nobody there. Then, eventually, I saw a small shadow peeking inside. Bhairav was standing there, squeezing the door as he looked at me.

"Aap chupan chupai khel rahe ho?" I smiled. He looked embarrassed as he came inside, glaring at me, "Mai khel nahi raha!"

(Are you playing hide and seek?)

(I'm not playing!)

"Phir mujhse milne aaye ho?" I teased the child. He shook his head furiously again and rushed towards the bed.

(Then did you come to meet me?)

Bhairav was only seven now. I couldn't imagine how he had grown up without a mother for so long. As far as I knew, he had been sleeping alone in his room since he was four. What would he do if he had nightmares at night? If he were to cry all alone, nobody would even hear it in such a big haveli...

He stared at me curiously. His young eyes noticed everything. The lovely bangles on my hand, my long veil, the anklets I wore, my nosering... He was observing everything closely until he spoke in his innocent voice.

"Aapne Baba se shaadi ki hai?"

(Did you marry my father?)

I hummed, hugging my knees. The boy looked a little confused. "Aapne unse shaadi kyu ki hai? Mujhe nayi Maa nahi chahiye."

(Why did you marry him? I don't want a new mother.)

His words surprised me a little. Even though he tried to act all tough and mighty, it looked like he was forcing himself to grow up too soon. He was forcing himself not to appear vulnerable.

"Maaf kijiye, chote Thakur Ji," I smiled, "Mai yaha aapke Baba keliye aayi hu."

(Forgive me, little man... I've come here for your Father alone.)

The boy blinked, looking suddenly disappointed, "Phir aap meri Maa nahi banogi?"

(Then you won't be my mother?)

I caressed his little head, "Agar aap chahte hai toh mai aapki Maa ban sakti hu, beta."

(If you wish, I can be your mother, sweetheart.)

Bhairav was quiet for a while, but he suddenly pushed my hand away, "Mujhe nahi chahiye. Mai baaki bacho ki tarah kamzor nahi hu."

(I don't want a mother. I'm not weak like the other kids.)

The door opened again, and Bhairav froze entirely. "Tum yaha kya kar rahe ho?" His Father asked. I could tell that the child was terrified of him.

(What are you doing here?)

"Dosto ke saath chupan chupai khel raha tha..." I smiled, patting his head. He glanced at me once, then nodded at his Father.

(He was playing hide and seek with his friends...)

"Bahar jaake khelo... Waise bhi sone ka samay hai," Virender muttered and ushered the child outside before locking the door. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes carefully watching my every breath.

(Go outside and play... Besides it's bedtime for you.)

I was 20 now, and quite aware of what transpired between husband and wife on their wedding night, more specifically, what was expected of me. Both his mother and mine had instructed me well.

Virender Ji climbed into bed properly. He sat beside me, leaning back on the headboard. One arm was over his knee, and he stealthily slid the other one behind me, brushing my shoulder but I tried to stay calm.

"Bau Ji nikal gaye...?" I asked, trying to make conversation because his stare felt too intense.

(Did my Father leave...?)

"Nikal toh gaye..." He murmured, and gently lifted my veil. I too pushed it back but refused to meet his eyes.

(Yes, he did...)

My husband brushed his thumb down my cheek, leaning closer to my face, "Bahut khubsurat ho tum... Lalita."

(You're very beautiful... Lalita.)

It was the first time he had said my name. I'd be lying if I said it didn't give me butterflies. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips, "Itni saalo se shaadi kyu nahi ki?"

(Why didn't you marry for so long?)

"Shaadi karne layak koi aaya hi nahi..." I replied, fiddling with the end of my veil. It made him smile a bit more as he lifted my chin to meet his gaze now.

(I never met anyone worth marrying.)

"Ab mil gaya?" He smiled a little better.

(You found him now?)

I glanced away, "Isliye nahi... Sabhi jaante hai ki Thakuron ko mana nahi karte."

(Not because of that... Everyone says, you should never deny a Thakur.)

"Acha? Woh sirf bahana nahi hai?"

(Oh really? Are you sure that's not an excuse?)

I didn't reply this time. Virender Ji took a deep breath and leaned closer. When I thought he was about to kiss me, he laid his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. It felt hard to breathe now. I was scared of moving and causing him any kind of discomfort.

"A-aap... Kya kar rahe hai...?" I mumbled in confusion when he didn't speak for so long.

(Wh-what are you doing...?)

"Kya tum mujhse darti ho?" He asked, voice gentle yet intimidating.

(Do I scare you?)

I didn't know what to say as I lost myself in his hypnotising eyes. Mother hadn't taught me any of this. She only taught me to stay quiet and to obey. What kind of answer was he expecting?

Virendar Ji lifted himself and looked at me properly. I stayed absolutely still as he began undoing my hair. Maybe he had finally decided to consummate our marriage instead of talking such confusing words.

When my hair finally came cascading down my shoulders, he held a lock of it in his hand, feeling its texture and touching it almost seductively. I was struggling to understand the surge of emotions he brought about in me, but I stayed quiet.

"Sari badal sakti ho... Bhaari lagta hai. Aur gehne bhi utarkar mez par rakh do."

(You can change your sari... It looks heavy. And keep your ornaments on the table.)

I was confused by his commands but I obeyed them without fail. The entire time, his eyes were on me. As I walked towards the table to remove my bangles and heavy ornaments, I found his eyes gazing at me darkly. In the bathroom, I changed into a more comfortable cotton sari, and by the time I returned, he had turned the lamp quite dim as he laid on his side of the bed.

Virendar Ji was quiet as I lay down beside him. He didn't speak anymore, and his light snoring made me aware that he had already slept. Despite what everyone said, he seemed like a gentle, considerate man... And I felt like I was already in love with him.