19. Ishq mein jaldi, bada jurmana. (Hastiness in love can cost a lot.)

•°•

The skin around my nails was broken and scraped to the point it was bleeding, swollen, and red. I was anxious. And nervous. Actually, both. It was our first night together. And hold on, it has no sexual context. We haven't even kissed yet, there's time before we can let our bodies do the talking. I'm sweating bullets because I'm no longer a single man. My room is no longer mine alone. My bed is no longer mine alone. My thoughts- nevermind, since the moment she has arrived in my life, they'd never been mine anyway. It's strange really, how your thoughts, your dreams, your every moment can belong to someone else, but when it comes to your space, your comfort zone, it makes you uncomfortable. As long as the other person has no idea what they do to you, you're confident and nonchalant. But the moment they invade your private space, threatening to expose all those feelings you've kept hidden, you realise you were faking it all along. I'm that person. And I'm shit scared to enter my room right now. My own room, the one that saw me growing into an adult, the one that had witnessed all my breakdowns, my dreams, my weird habits, that one space where I can be myself without a filter, is now making me feel like a stranger because someone else is in there, someone that has the power to bring me to my knees as well as set me off through the roof by making me overthink every small syllable of hers.

"Are you not going inside?"

I startled.

Meghna leaned against the wall beside my room, a playful smile spreading on her lips.

"Go, get some sleep."

I rubbed my sweaty hands on the fabric of my jacket.

"Leave me alone," I mumbled, looking away from her.

She snickered and walked off after wishing me good luck. That's right, not good night but good luck. Why do siblings know you so well? I hate it.

Post the wedding rituals, she was taken to the room before me. I had to entertain my college friends for a while, and they had talked my ears off about the wedding night, honeymoon, and how things change when the lovey-dovey phase ends. I haven't even begun my wedding life yet and the advice session has already. Fortunately, Vikram had helped me get rid of them, but now I think suffering their bullshit was so much better than losing my mind about entering my own room.

"Just go in. She is not going to eat you." Neelam bua popped in. Great, just what my fate lacked at this moment.

"I'm trying," I muttered.

She chuckled. "You're going to spend your night outside the room if I don't do this,"

I frowned.

"What?" I looked over my shoulder.

"Apni pyari si bua ko maaf kar dena iss ke liye. (Forgive your lovely Bua for what she is about to do.)" She smiled sheepishly, approaching me with soft footfalls. My frown deepened, which later transformed into shock when she opened the door to my room and shoved me inside before yanking it close.

I stumbled in with a gasp, lifting my head with a snap and meeting Priya's startled eyes. I turned around in panic, fumbling with the knob to open the door. It was locked.

"Bua!" I hissed, knowing she was holding it from the other side.

"You're going to thank me later in the future." She mumbled.

I glanced over my shoulder, standing straight awkwardly when I noticed the confusion etched in Priya's eyes. "Hi," with the way I had plastered myself to the door, it might as well swallow me whole.

"Hi," she whispered, adjusting her lehenga slightly. The clinking of her bangles along with the susurration of the sheets was the only sound breaking the silence prevailing in the air. "You are late."

I rubbed my nape sheepishly, walking in with small footsteps and occupying the seat on the couch across from the bed. "My friends kept me back," I answered. Partially a lie, and partially a truth.

She nodded with pursed lips.

"You didn't change?" I furrowed my brows at her. It must be so difficult to carry so many things on your body at once. The lehenga looked so heavy and on top of that all that jewellery and make-up.

"I wanted to. But your Bua told me to sit here like this until you come." She murmured. "I should change now."

I blinked. She really thought she has to wait here like this, wearing all that dramatics until I come only to change immediately after? I nodded. "You should. It doesn't look comfortable."

"Trust me, it is far from comfortable." She carefully stepped down from the bed and made her way towards her three suitcases in the corner. She picked up her handbag that was on the top, along with a night suit from the backpack, and headed inside the washroom.

I decided to grab my clothes and wait until she is done to wash up and change.

I was patient.

But forty minutes later, that was the limit. How much time does it take to remove your makeup and change into comfortable clothes? Definitely not more than fifteen minutes.

With a frustrated sleep deprived sigh, I got up and knocked on the door. "Priya, are you done?"

"Just a minute."

I let out a short breath.

Her minute actually meant another ten minutes. Eventually she came out, and I frowned noticing her hair was still in the updo. At least, she was changed into a loose tee and pants, so she was not just wasting time inside. I walked past her to get inside the bathroom.

As I had previously said, it takes fifteen minutes to wash up and change. When I left the bathroom, Priya was seated on the ottoman stationed in front of the vanity, carefully removing the pins from her hair. I draped the towel on the back of the chair and walked to the bed.

"Do you prefer a side?"

She met my eyes through the mirror, her hands paused in her hair.

"Right?"

"It's taken."

She dropped her hands in exasperation. "Then why did you ask if it was already decided that I'm taking left?"

I sat down on the left side of the bed with an amused smile. "I'm just kidding. You can take the right side."

She sighed and went back to her hairstyle:the mission. I peeked in to check the number of the pins she has removed, my brows shooting upward when I realised they were enough to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records for the maximum number of pins you can use to style your hair.

"That was in your hair?" I asked in surprise.

She groaned. "I'm so done with this!" She dropped her arms, rolling them to relieve the ache. "Why did that woman use so many pins!?"

I chuckled.

She shot me an annoyed look.

"Accha sorry, do you need my help?" I smiled.

"Please," she almost begged.

I rolled the chair to position it behind her before taking a seat. "Tell me if I hurt you. It's my first time handling a woman's hair." I informed her, deciding to start with the pins that are visible instead of the ones that looked too deep into her bun. She nodded slightly.

I got to work carefully, trying my best to not rip her hair strands out. The moment I pulled off the last pin keeping her bun in place, her hair instantly tumbled down like cascades of an inky waterfall. "You've beautiful hair," I blurted out, too mesmerized by her dark locks to make any sense.

"Th-Thanks," she muttered, audibly nervous. I tore my eyes off her hair, meeting her coffee swirls through the mirror. The only time I like something remotely related to my most hated beverage.

"Do you read books?"

"Huh?" She blinked, probably taken aback by my out-of-the-blue question. "No."

"I do," I answered. "I read books. A lot. Your hair reminded me of a line from one of them. Want to hear it?"

"Sure," she whispered.

"La masse triée de tresses noires de jais démêlées, verrouillées autour de mes doigts comme des vignes, comment pourrais-je ne pas me sentir piégée?" I spoke softly, undoing the little tangles formed on the ends of her hair.

She turned around sharply, facing me with a surprised look on her dusky visage. I pulled back a little, meeting her eyes that were wide with curiosity. "Translate," such a kitten.

I smiled. "Good night."

"Aditya," she called out when I got up from the chair.

I turned halfway, looking down at her with amusement.

"Don't leave me hanging." She requested.

"I'll give you a hint. It's french."

She looked at me incredulously. "And what am I supposed to do with that? At least tell me the book name! I don't remember the lines!"

I smirked, settling on my side of the bed before unfolding the comforter and pulling it until my waist. "Good night," I laid back with my arm folded beneath my head.

"Aditya," she whispered.

I hummed.

"Tell me, na," she insisted.

"Find out yourself."

She breathed out in exasperation. "Never again tell me any lines from your books ever again!" She snipped, getting up from the ottoman and storming to the right side of the bed.

I scooted to the far left, almost to the edge, extra aware of her presence beside me. We were about to share a bed and I don't know how to feel about it. She laid on the far right, just like me almost to the edge, and turned to the other side, her back facing me. I did the same, turned in the opposite direction of her. And I don't think any of us caught a wink of sleep throughout the night.

In the break of the dawn, my lids felt extremely heavy and I slipped into a deep slumber. The next morning, I wasn't woken to the sound of Tweety, but something else.
"Stop the fucking noise for God's sake!" I grunted, shoving my face into the pillow.

"So-Sorry," a familiar voice revealed itself.

I shot up straight when realisation dawned on me. "Uh," we looked at each other with familiar awkwardness filling the atmosphere. "Go-Good morning." I rubbed a hand on my face, scooting back to rest against the headboard.

"Good morning," she mumbled, "sorry about the disturbance. I was trying to find my charger."

I nodded. "It's okay. I'm not a morning person so it's usual for me to be grumpy in the morning." I justified.

She nodded in return.

I noticed her outfit and a frown replaced my sleep-deprived face. "Are we going somewhere?"

She looked up from her purse. "I'm heading to the office. But I can drop you off if you want."

My frown deepened. "You're going to the office?"

She nodded.

"Aren't you supposed to perform any rituals? Like they show on the television? Pehli Rasoi and all that?" I asked, confused and slightly hurt at her actions. I took fifteen days' leave from the office, and for what? My wife's going to work right on the next of our wedding. Aren't newly wedded couples supposed to spend time and get to know each other?

"I already did that." She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep well last night. Change in place maybe? So I got up at five and fortunately, your mom was up, so I asked if I can wrap up the ritual early since I have a few important meetings lined up today." She explained. "Ah, found it!" She grinned triumphantly upon removing the charger from the bag. She immediately stuffed it in her purse, along with the little water bottle that was on the dressing table and her clutch. "So, are you coming?"

I clenched my jaw. "No. I'll take the bus."

"You sure?"

I nodded.

"Okay," she smiled. "Bye. Have a great day ahead." And she left while I was left to sulk in my room alone.

Grumpier than before, I got up to get ready for the office as well. If she is making money, why should I bear the losses? Snatching my less favorite baby blue shirt and black trousers from the cupboard, I entered the bathroom.

Everyone was already at the dining table when I made my presence aware.

"Where's Priya?" Neelam bua asked.

"Chali gayi office, (She went to the office.)" Mom said in a clipped tone, serving me the breakfast.

Dadi looked at me worriedly. "Tune roka nahi? (You didn't stop her?)"

"Why should I?" I asked. "Her work, her decision."

"Lo, ek din bhi nahi hua aur abhi se problems? (It's not even been a day and you guys already have problems?)" Meghna jabbed.

"Meghna, tu chup kar ke kha na. (Meghna, just shut up and eat.)" Neelam bua chastised her.

"Isiliye keh rahi thi, soch samajh ke faisla le. Shaadi ko ek din bhi nahi hua, aur mera beta abhi se mayus. (That's why I kept repeating, think, and then decide. It's not even been a day since the wedding and my son is already crestfallen.)" Mom snorted, settling beside dad to start on her breakfast.

"Tune usse baat kyun nahi ki? (Why didn't you talk to her?)" Neelam bua asked in a persistent tone. "You should have told her that you took fifteen days' leave from the office. You just got married, the one thing you should not be doing is work."

"Voh bacchi nahi hai, Neelam Didi. Usse samajh mein nahi aata kya? (She is not a kid, Neelam Di. Doesn't she understand that?)" Mom cut in sharply.

"Tune kyun nahi roka? Tu saas he na uski. (Why didn't you stop her? You're her mother in law.)" Dadi interrupted.

"Yeh, sahi hai Ma, agar mein rokti toh buri saas ban jaati. Usne kaha uski kuch important meetings hai toh usse jaldi nikalna hai. Agar mein kehti ki cancel kar de, toh mein uski nazron mein buri ban jaati. Maine kabhi Avinash ko odd times pe kaam par jaane se nahi roka, to usse kaise roku? Woh bhi toh ab iss ghar ka hissa hai. (Right, Ma, if I had stopped her, I would have been the bad mother-in-law. She said she has some important meetings to attend and therefore she needs to leave early. I've never stopped Avinash from going to work at odd times so how can I stop her? She is a part of this family too.)"

"Toh uske piche baatein kyun kar rahi hai? Avinash ke piche bhi aise hi baaten karti hai? (Then why are you talking about her behind her back? Do you the same with Avinash?)" Dadi retorted, shutting mom instantly.

"I'm running late. Excuse me." I got up, fed up with their topic of discussion.

"You didn't even have much. At least finish the food on the plate." Mom looked up at me worriedly.

"I'm not hungry." I said, grabbing my phone to leave. My eyes met Bhai's and I grew even more awkward. I know he wasn't judging my relationship with Priya, but I felt judged. "Bye," I whispered and headed towards the door.

"Wait! Let me pack you something for lunch!" Mom screeched from the kitchen.

I wore my shoes, waiting impatiently as Mom shuffled around the kitchen. She even dropped something a few times. When she rushed out, I was in the middle of opening the front door.

"Yeh le, (Take this,)" she handed me the tiffin box. I slung the strap on my shoulder and left the house.

Catching the bus this morning was a hard feat to achieve. Almost all of them were fully packed. When the third one came, I knew I couldn't let it go so I squeezed myself through the sea of bodies of all sizes and genders, getting disapproved looks from some sour faces in the process. Two stops later, the woman sitting in front of me, since I was standing facing the sides, stood up to get off at her stop. I quickly occupied the empty seat, releasing a relieved sigh. Just as the bus came to an abrupt halt, a heavy bag from the storage section fell and crashed into my shoulder.

I groaned in breathless pain, clutching my shoulder tightly.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" A girl rushed through the crowd, picking her bag from the floor and bending to my level. "I'm so so sorry, sir."

"It's okay," I managed to whisper. It was not okay. The pain was horrible. For a moment it felt as though someone dislocated my shoulder and then set it back.

"I'm really really sorry." She murmured, sounding guilty upon witnessing the pain on my face.

I nodded at her, realising my stop was next so I need to get off. I stifled a gasp of anguish at the pain that shot through my back towards my shoulder and forced my way through the crowd to get off the bus.

My head was beginning to throb now.

With a roll of my shoulder, that just made things worse because it hurt more, I made my way towards the office building.

I was not prepared for the comments that awaited me.

"Arey, Aditya, you got married just yesterday. What are you doing in the office?"

Some teasing smiles.

"Jhagda hua kya biwi se? Ek din toh ruk jaata yar. (Did you fight with your wife? Should have waited at least a day.)"

Some snickers.

"Teri marzi se shaadi nahi hui kya? (Were you not ready for the marriage?)"

Some worried glances.

"Kya, wage gap close karne ki tayyari? (All ready to close the wage gap?)"

And some mocking side-eyes.

"You're late."

My boss.

"Sorry, sir." I apologised and narrowly escaped to my cabin.

It was extremely torturous to work with my aching shoulder. During a weak moment, tears sprung to my eyes and I just laid my forehead on the desk, wishing a hole to an alternate universe opens up and swallows me whole. Why can't fiction happen in real life!? Why is reality so damn disappointing and.... and real?

As if my day can't get any worse, the heater in my office malfunctioned. I had to eat my lunch in the cafeteria as the technicians worked on fixing the issue. The one advantage of having my own space was the freedom of eating my lunch in peace without needing to socialise. But now I'm back here, in this hell hole and I absolutely hate it.

"Hey," Pari appeared unannounced and plopped down on the chair across from me. "What are you doing at the office? You got married just yesterday." She reminded me. For the umpteenth time. As if I haven't heard the same thing since the moment my day began.

"Just," I shrugged, avoiding to answer. I hope Priya is hearing the same thing as me at her office. But who would dare to? She is the fucking boss.

"Everything okay?" Pari leaned in worriedly, pausing on opening her lunch box.

"Yeah," I nodded, focusing back on my food.

"You know you can tell me anything, Aditya. I'm your friend."

I sighed.

"What is it?"

She is a woman too. She must know how Priya's brain works, right? Maybe she could suggest me something.

"Imagine you're my wife," I started, flinching when she began to cough harshly on her first morsel. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

She held up a hand at me, telling me to wait a while. I sat quietly until she was calm. "Okay, let's start again," she cleared her throat.

"S-So, imagine you're my wife, and- uhm," this is so embarrassing. "Would you go to the office on the next day of our marriage?"

She blinked. "If I were your wife?"

I nodded.

"No," she answered softly. "I'll wish to spend as much time as I could with you. I'll try to get to know you more, your habits, your likes, dislikes, everything that makes you, I'll try to understand it, accept it, and even adapt it." She murmured with a tiny smile.

Oh.

Maybe not every woman's brain works the same.

"She went to the office instead?"

I decided not to answer even though I'm aware I've already insinuated it. "I'm done with my lunch. I should get back to my office." I shot her a quick smile and left the place.

Thankfully, the heater was fixed by the time I returned. I closed the door behind me and settled back on my chair. My phone on the desk caught my attention.

Should I call her?

There's only one way to decide.

I plucked out a rose from the fresh-looking fake bouquet and ripped apart a petal every time my two decisions alternated.

I shouldn't.

There was only one petal waiting to be ripped. So I tore half of it.

I should.

Right. Even the universe is hinting at it.

Picking up my phone, I hit the call button beside her number. She picked up on the third ring.

"Aditya,"

"Hi," I responded.

"What is it?"

I swallowed. Why am I suddenly so awkward around her now. Because she is my wife? "Did you have your lunch?"

"Not yet. Did you?"

"Just now."

"Good. I'll have mine in some time."

I hummed, failing to bring anything else on the communication menu.

"If that's all?"

"Yeah, bye." I hung up quickly, tossing the phone on the desk, more disappointed in myself than anyone else. Did I really have to act so desperate all the time? Can't she once take an initiative to make a conversation with me!? Why am I even complaining? I already knew this will be the case the moment I asked her to marry me.

My phone rang and I grasp the edge of a futile hope that it was Priya. Of course, it wasn't.

"Yeah?"

"What's this dry yeah?" Vikram snorted. "And why are you at the office? Dude, when I married Nisha, I didn't leave her side for a week. She had to force me to resume work."

"Lucky you," I twirled the paperweight mindlessly.

"She did this first right?"

"What?"

"Resuming work, I mean. And then you were embarrassed so you came to the office as well despite the fifteen days off you had taken." He guessed.

I hummed in response.

"I knew it! Serves you right for marrying a workaholic."

"Seriously, Vikram!? This is your way of lifting my spirits?" I scoffed.

"Alright fine, sorry. Let's go for drinks tonight."

"How is your solution alcohol to literally every problem in the world?"

"Why not? It may not solve the problems but it damn well makes you forget them." He brazenly bragged.

I rubbed my forehead. "Okay,"

"Great! I'll pick you up from your office." He said and hung up, way more cheerful than one should be after knowing their friend's married life started on a shitty note.

At the end of the day, his car was waiting for me in front of the office building. I got in and buckled the seatbelt.

"I don't understand what happened. We were so comfortable after our engagement. All the progress went downhill this morning. What happened!?" I asked myself irritatedly.

"Marriage, dude, marriage." Vikram patted my knee in comfort. "It ruins the chemistry. Ask me."

"Tere paas dhang ki advice hai!? (Do you have good advice to spare!?)" I snapped.

"Accha, sun, you got married, and now you two are shoved into each other's life, expected to spend a lifetime together. It's just the awkwardness of starting something new, that's it. And then there's her quiet personality and your overthinking. A very terrible combination. You knew her work was her priority even before you got married, right?"

I nodded.

"But you had no problem then. Why? Because you were living your own life and allowing each other just a snippet of it. So it was comfortable. But now you're sharing a life, and that, my boy, requires time, patience, and a little bit of work from both sides. So until and unless she makes an equal effort, you're going to feel like this. Insecure, unsure, and anxious."

"And when will she start making an equal effort?"

"Give her some time. It's not easy for her. She only had her sister and work before you came into her life. It'll take her some time before she realises her responsibilities. And you already knew Adi," he shot me a glare. "I told you you're one of those who would do anything and everything for the people you love. And if she starts getting comfortable in that equation, where your side carries most of the relationship, the imbalance will bring nothing but mental and emotional exhaustion over you. Communication is just as important. So once you feel this is going overboard, tell her, let her know. Set a pace, but don't be the only one following it."

He made sense. He always makes sense.

I nodded in response. "Thanks."

"Let's get hammered tonight and forget everything." He grinned at me.

We ended up at the same bar as the previous one. He drank more while I only enjoyed a bottle of beer. I drove him home like usual, handed car keys to Nisha Bhabhi, and caught the last bus of the day back home.

Mom was waiting for me in the living room. "Itna late? (Why so late?)"

I shrugged. "Vikram and I hung out for a while."

She looked at me worriedly.

"I'm hungry," I said, avoiding her pitiful gaze.

"Go get fresh. I'll reheat the food." She murmured, walking to the kitchen.

I made my way towards my room, halting at the doorstep when the living room lights revealed a sleeping figure on the bed. I entered quietly, keeping the door open for the lights, and approached the cupboard to get my night clothes.

Fifteen minutes later I was stepping out of the bathroom to leave the room. On my way, I ended up slamming my knee against the corner of the table. I hissed, rubbing my knee, and stifled a groan. Seriously, was the shoulder this morning not enough!?

"Aditya?" Priya called out groggily, switching on the lights and illuminating the room. "Are you okay!?" She left the bedside to rush toward me. I realised I was still cradling my injured knee. She placed a hand on my shoulder and I grunted more in pain. She removed her hand. "Your shoulder hurts too?"

"A girl's bag fell on my shoulder this morning while I was on the bus," I answered, forcing myself to stand straight. "You should go back to sleep. I'm heading to the kitchen to have dinner." I left the room, unwilling to make any more useless small talks.

Mom had already dished out everything so I settled on the chair. "Do you want me to stay up with you?"

"No, it's late. You should go and sleep." I said softly.

"Are you sure? I don't mind sitting here with you. You can tell me about your day."

"It's okay, Mummy. Go." I reassured her.

She kissed my forehead and wished me goodnight. I said the same.

I've always had late dinner alone. That was one of the reasons why I used to wind up my work as fast as I could to rush back home and eat with my family. Bhai rarely eats at home. And he doesn't even care about eating alone, to be honest. Though Mom stubbornly stays with him because he'll eat one roti and call it dinner, so she has to make sure he at least eats two or three and some rice.

I swirled the dal with my spoon, mixing the ghee poured on top.

An unannounced presence surprised me.

Priya pulled the chair adjacent to me and sat down, getting herself a glass and pouring water into it from the jug. I thought it was for her before she placed it beside my plate. "Khayien. Pehle hi bahut der ho chuki hai. (Eat. It's already so late.)"

I looked down at my plate.

"Aditya," she called out after some time.

I met her eyes.

"Are you going to the office tomorrow?"

I nodded hesitantly. You're going, so what will I do staying back?

"Can you not go?" she leaned in, her voice a request.

My brows shot up in surprise.

"Your Dadi said there are some more rituals I need to perform. Also, something like Mu Dikhayi too. She told me to work from home until she and Neelam bua leaves. I couldn't say no. But it'll be so awkward."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know them much." She said sounding nervous. "If you stay home with me, I'll be a little at ease."

"Why?"

"Be-Because I know you? And I'm comfortable with you?" She said, unconvinced of the reason herself. "I just - I've never done this stuff before-"

"Yeah, and it's my third time." I deadpanned.

"Are you really being sarcastic right now?" She narrowed her eyes at me.

"What will I get in return?" I leaned back on the chair, regarding her with a cocky gaze.

She blinked in surprise. "You- You want something?"

"Of course. I'm missing my work for you, I should get something equally profitable, right?"

"That's true," she mumbled. "Accha, what do you want?"

Your time.

"What can you give me?" I leaned in closer.

She fidgeted with her wrist since her watch was missing. "Whatever you want,"

"Yes?" I tilted my head to the side, smirking at her.

She nodded meekly.

"My shoulders are aching so badly since this morning. Give them a massage."

"Bas!? (That's it!?)" She chuckled in relief. "I thought-" she shut up abruptly.

"What did you think I was going to ask?"

"I'll heat the oil," she got up and scurried into the kitchen. I watched her go with a smile.

I just felt like my day got a lot better.

Aw Adi, not you getting happy with the bare minimum and representing us all 😭❤️

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