Mira comes out in the guest room after getting freshen up to find her mother sitting comfortably on the sofa with a Tata sky remote in her hand and switching between the various Hindi channels. Afternoon is her time when she watches the repeat telecast of all the Hindi television serials uninterrupted. There is no one to disturb her during this time when she will take the plate of lunch in her hand and slowly eat the food while watching marathon episodes of Sasural Simar ka, Diya aur bati hum, Kumkum Bhagya and the list is endless.
“Take the lunch and give it to me as well,” Ma asked Mira without looking at her.
“Okay…” Mira slowly mumbled.
The sight at the lunch table is somewhat familiar to the good old pre wedding days. There is dal tadka on the menu along with karela-Aalo fry (bitter gourd-potato fry), her favorite bikaji Papad, prawn sukha and cucumber salad. Mira couldn’t smile while looking at the menu. Although her mother seems to be irritated enough, she didn’t forget to cook Mira’s favorite dishes. No one in the family likes Bikaji Papad except for her. She serves the food in two separate plates and handover one of them to the mother.
They eat the first few morsels in silence before her mother spoke again. “Your in-laws want to talk to you, call them once.”
Blood begin to boil inside her. “There nothing left to talk. Mira said amidst the slowly munching of food. If they want to, they should do that with their son or forget it. Not me! I am done with that family once for all.”
“You don’t break or finish relationship overnight Mira! The mother protested. “I don’t understand what is the problem with girls of today! for you anything and everything is a piece of cake. Even I am married, even you father and I had problems in our marriage, did we filed for divorce? Marriage is not a contract written on a piece of paper that you can tear off and its over!
“Why don’t you guys preach all these lectures to my soon to be ex-husband?” Let me remind you maa, I am not the one at fault here. He is! He is one the taking me for granted and spoiling my life. So stop blaming me or telling me that I am the one at fault. She is irritated and her body is shivering out of anger. The flashback of the life of past six month flashes in front of her eyes as if it was yesterday. Tears started streaming out of her eyes as if someone has opened floodgate of tears.
She dumps the food plate on the table and ran towards her not-anymore-room.
“Where are you going?” the mother shouted from the guest room.
“I am tired and going to sleep, please don’t wake me up unless I do so myself.” She closed the door without waiting for her mother’s reaction.
Sleep was far from her eyes. The mere mention of his name is enough for her make her angry, not to mention bitter and revengeful.
Her’s was an arrange marriage. She was the good old Indian girl that every Indian parent wishes her daughter to be raised as. An ideal bride as per marriage market credentials; Fair, slim, educated and soft spoken. It’s always that boys are the first one to say yes or no to an alliance and not the girl. There meeting was short and crisp; Naren came to her house to see her with his family, asked her the random mundane questions that is expected out of such conversations; How she has studied, is she working, is her astrological signs and few more.