वो छह गज के थान में लिपटी स्त्री,
जो खामोशी को साज बना कहीं कोने में सजी है..
नज़रे झुकाए 'घर की लाज' कहलाती है..
सुन लेना दहाड़ उस शांत शेरनी की,
जब वो आंसुओं का सहारा ले..
वरना धधकेगी जिस दिन उसके सीने की,
उस दिन...
विनाश होगा...
बस विनाश होगा!!

~गौरी..

CHAPTER 1

It was another serene morning in Thakur Haveli, when the sun stood proud, spreading its warm glow like a blessing over the village.

In the golden hue of the sky, birds chirruped on the trees, and the soft winter air made slight movements in the lush greenery.

Everything was calm. The epitome of purity, river Ganga moved gently, the fishes hopping inside the water, and the Ma Durga temple stood still in divine silence.

Her red saree—the power of women.
Trishul—the power to destroy.
The lion—strength.
But above all, it was her peaceful smile that could breathe life into every lifeless piece.

Holding one such pure smile, the eldest daughter-in-law of the Thakurs—the eldest Thakurain—draped in a red cotton saree, stirred the pan. The green bangles on her wrist chimed sweetly with every movement.

There was nothing extravagant in her beauty,just the black-beaded nuptial thread that she wore like her heartbeat, and the crimson vermillion in the parting of her hair, worn like her only identity.

Digvijay Singh Thakur’s wife.
Shrimala.

Her long, thick black hair flowed down to her waist, simply braided but behind her stood a little life,clutching the edge of her pallu as if it were his only shield.

Shrimala knew it. Covering the pan with a lid, she turned slightly towards him, placing one hand on her waist, and asked with a soft hum,

“Kya kar rahein hain aap, chhote Thakur Sahab..”
(“What are you up to, chhote Thakur?”)

The small, four-year-old boy, Ritwik, clung to her feet and spoke with innocent eyes,
“Badi Ma..”

Shrimala knelt before him, gently lifting his chin, and said,
“Kya hua, lalla? Bhaiya ke sath khelo, jao..”
(“What happened, dear? Go and play with your brother..”)

“Bhai..ya.. Malenge..”
(“Brother will hit me..”)
he spoke softly, wrapping his small arms around her.

Shrimala's lips parted as the little boy hugged her tight. She let a small smile curve her lips as she wrapped her arms around his frame. Pressing her soft lips over his ears. The little boy, Ritwik, hugged her tightly.

She was his only peace. His only protector. His Badi Ma.

Even Shrimala loved him alot. In this chaos of the Haveli, he was the only soul she found untouched by cruelty,too innocent to even understand the world’s harshness.

The only warmth that sought her in a first morning hug and the lullaby of the last night. Not hers by blood, yet by the connection of the heart,stronger than any bond.

She scooped him up in her arms and placed him gently on the counter, a little away from the cooking frame, then pressed a soft kiss to his temple,finding the trace of her own son's innocence in him. Passing on the love she had once dreamt of giving her own.

With a smile that held everything but happiness, she caressed his hair,and then suddenly, a sharp sound echoed through the entire Haveli.

Ritwik instantly covered his ears, whispering with fear.
"Ma.."

Shrimala looked at him,fear swimming in his innocent eyes, that came from hearing a mother’s scream.

Yet helpless to do anything, she hugged him.

"Kuch na hua mera Lalla.."(Nothing happened my dear..)

She exhaled deeply, chanting silently in her heart,

"Hey Devi Maiya... in ladkiyon ko surakshit rakhna.."
(Hey Mata Rani, please keep these girls safe...)

In the lavish bedroom of Ratnesh Singh Thakur, his wife Kaveri sat on the floor,crying, trembling, and sliding back, trying at least to save her life from her demon of a husband.

She folded her hands, begging,
"M-maaf kar dijiye... mai, mai bas safai..."
(F-forgive me… I-I was just cleaning…)

But before she could finish, he gripped her ear violently, pressing against her earring until blood trickled down.

And then,with eyes cold and merciless,he slapped her so hard that his handprint etched itself onto her cheek, her face whipping to the opposite side.

She immediately clutched her burning cheek, the pain flaring like fire, but didn’t dare respond, knowing that even a single word could bring worse upon her.

But Ratnesh wasn't done venting his anger.
He clutched her hair in his fist and growled through clenched teeth,

"Can't you understand? Don't touch my things, you bitch!"

He shouted so loudly that Kaveri couldn't help but shut her eyes and let the tears fall freely.

"S-sorry..." she sobbed, "Please... leave me..."

He glared at her like he was ready to rip the life out of her.
And in the very next second, he yanked her hair back and pushed her with such force that her head struck the edge of the bed.

A soft cry escaped her lips from the pain, but he didn’t even turn back.
He walked out coldly, heartless and unaffected—while Kaveri remained there, curled on the floor, crying in silence.

On the other side, Nayantara sat at the center of Bhushan's bed, trying to cover her naked body with the mere drape of a saree.

Her face was blank,almost expressionless,but her tears kept falling in a silent stream.

She didn’t have the courage to look up at her husband, who stood a little distance away, knotting the strings of his pyjama.

Once tied, he turned to her with a husky, threatening gaze.
Walking closer, he gripped her hair tightly, yanking it with cruelty.

"Ahh... please leave... it hurts..."
She whimpered, trying to resist.

But before she could speak again, he slapped her hard, silencing her completely.

She broke down in tears,crying until she couldn’t breathe.
And then, looking at her tear-streaked face, he said coldly,

"You know what hurts more than this?"
He leaned in, voice twisted with venom.
"It hurts the most when people question my manhood, especially when it’s your fault! You can’t even carry my child, and the world points fingers at me..."

He spat the words like poison,
"If you’re not pregnant this time… I swear I’ll burn you alive! Understood?!"

Shoving her away, he slipped on his kurta and walked toward the door.

But before he could leave,
Nayantara looked up.

Her voice trembled, yet she spoke.

"Phir jala hi dijiye..."
(Then burn me alive...)

Holding back her tears, she completed herself—

"Har roj, ghoont ghoont kar marne se behtar, ek baar mein maar dijiye..."

(Why kill me bit by bit every day? Just end my story in one blow... kill me once and for all.)

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