Page 24
Story: Substitute Bride
Time passes unnoticed.
Suddenly, a knock on the door breaks the stillness. All three turn their heads toward the sound. Standing there is Vikrant, composed and quiet. His voice is calm but firm.
“Say goodbye to your parents. It’s time for us to leave.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply. After delivering his message, he turns and walks away. Jhankar sits still for a moment, staring at the empty doorway. Raghunath gently places a trembling hand on her head. He says nothing, there is nothing left to say. He is a father rendered helpless, unable to protect his daughter, unable to free her. Jhankar looks up at him with soft, tearless eyes, forces a small smile, and then kisses her mother gently on the forehead.
“You both don’t need to worry about me,” she whispers. “I’ll handle everything. I’ll fix this. Just trust me.”
Her voice is quiet but unwavering. It’s the beginning of her own battle, a war not just against Vikrant, but against fate, against silence, against power misuse. And she is determined not to lose.
CHAPTER 14
RING GAME
Jhankar is standing quietly beside Vikrant, while Sharda sits in a wheelchair nearby. Following her instructions, the eldest woman in the house is performing a traditional welcome prayer for both of them, marking their entry into the home. Vikrant smiles warmly at Sharda, but she does not return his smile. Her gaze remains firmly fixed on Jhankar, who stands with her eyes downcast. Jhankar clutches a bag in her hand, one she brought from her home, and holds it tightly, as if it were her only anchor in the storm that has upended her life.
Vikrant attempts a fleeting glance at her. He had offered to take her bag earlier, hoping she could enter the house more comfortably, but Jhankar refused both his help and his presence. She had shaken his hand off with a quiet firmness and now stands next to him at the doorway, burdened not just with her bag but with everything she cannot say. As the prayer concludes, Sharda looks affectionately at Jhankar and speaks with warm authority.
"Put your right foot forward, gently tip over this rice urn, step into the vermilion plate, and enter the house with your auspicious feet."
Jhankar knows she has no right to refuse. Everything about this moment feels forced, yet she suppresses her resistance. It is not the place to reveal her unwillingness. Quietly, she nudges the rice urn with her foot and steps into the vermilion-filledplate. However, the plate is wet and slippery, and she loses her balance. Just as she begins to fall, Vikrant instinctively catches her, one hand gripping her wrist, the other steadying her waist. With Sharda watching from the front, Jhankar cannot directly express her disgust, but she turns her face towards Vikrant and whispers firmly, her voice icy.
"Stay away from me."
Vikrant clenches his jaw in silent anger, but the weight of Sharda’s watchful eyes reins in his reaction. He straightens up and helps her stand, his movements stiff with restraint. Jhankar, resisting the urge to push him away, chooses instead to walk ahead with quiet dignity. As she steps forward, deep red footprints trail behind her, marking her entry into the house. Sharda, determined to uphold traditions despite the underlying tension, signals the maid and gives the next instruction.
"First of all, go to the temple, receive blessings, and sit there. Savita and I are coming right now."
Vikrant and Jhankar obey without a word and begin walking toward the prayer room. Jhankar follows Vikrant, glaring at his back with resentment. Upon reaching the temple area, both fold their hands respectfully, though Jhankar’s eyes are ablaze with frustration as she stares at the idol. Her silent prayers are filled with complaints and unspoken anger. Vikrant notices her expression and addresses her in a hardened tone.
"Do you think anything bad will happen to them just because you’re glaring at this idol like that?"
She turns to him, her voice steady but scathing.
"Your expression suggests you don't have much faith in God, yet you’re pretending to be devout now."
He gives a mocking smile and sits comfortably on the floor mattress.
"You’re absolutely right, I don’t believe in Him. But Maa does, and because she believes, I never question her. I follow whatever she tells me."
"Every mother punishes her son for his wrongdoings. Yours should’ve done that, maybe then you’d have turned out better."
Vikrant stares at her, unable to respond. She speaks fearlessly, and every word she utters poses a challenge he cannot respond to, especially with the possibility of Sharda walking in at any moment. He sits in silence, brooding, while Jhankar remains standing. Sensing his attention shift back to her, she climbs onto the mattress without hesitation.
As she settles, Vikrant’s eyes immediately fall on her feet. The vermilion she had stepped into earlier has stained her soles red, and now, with every step on the white bed sheet covering the floor, she leaves bold crimson prints. His brow furrows in disapproval.
"What the hell? You should have washed your feet before coming here. They’re filthy."
Jhankar glances at him calmly, then at her feet. She knows the red footprints are part of the housewarming ritual, but seeing how irritated it makes him, she seizes the moment. Without breaking eye contact, she starts walking faster across the pristine white sheet, deepening the stains.
"You should know better than to do this," he snaps. "This is someone’s house. You’re spreading dirt."
"Yes, until two days ago, I knew all about manners and respect. But ever since you barged into my house uninvited, kidnappedme, and forced me into a marriage I never consented to, well, all my manners have vanished. And I don’t think they’re ever coming back."
Just as Vikrant turns, fury begins to boil over, Sharda enters with two or three other women. Both of them immediately fall silent. Sharda smiles and looks down at the stained mattress, her eyes lighting up. She looks at both of them with genuine affection.
"In this house, Goddess Lakshmi herself has left her footprints. Surely, this means the goddess will bless us abundantly."
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132