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Story: The Deceit

“He’s still getting used to everything,” Vishnu says, gently stroking Veer’s back. “He’ll adjust to this change soon. You both will.”

I sigh.

“I know, but it’s hard, Vishnu. He’s not used to all this. And to tell you the truth, neither am I. I can’t even sit for fifteen minutes without him wanting to be held. And I can’t seem to get a moment for myself, let alone for work.”

“I’ve already spoken to the agency that arranged Avika’s nanny,” Vishnu says. “They’ve provided staff for several political families and are now vetting someone for Veer. It’ll take a few days, but once the background checks are complete, she’ll be here, and you’ll have some help. She’ll be experienced—probably an older woman—and we’ll make sure Veer gets used to her gradually.”

I nod, appreciating his effort, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t loosen. What if Veer doesn’t adjust to her? He’s so used to Claire. She knew everything about him—what he liked, what calmed him. She could tell his different cries apart and had made my life in New York possible for me. The thought of starting over with someone new makes my head spin.

“We’ll make it work,” Vishnu says, reading my mind again as he places a comforting hand on my knee. “It will take time. But we’ll find someone good, someone Veer can trust. Then you can focus on your work again.”

Work.The word feels like a distant memory. I glance at my phone and see three missed calls from my New York office and several urgent messages from my Indian team. Everything is in limbo—my business, my routine, my entire life.

It’s not just the business responsibilities that trouble me; the expectations and duties of being a Walia family member unsettle me just as much. All day long, I watched Devika move through the mansion with practiced grace, effortlessly overseeing the preparations for tomorrow’s events. Like me, she’s a daughter-in-law in this family, yet she managed everything with ease—directing staff, coordinating with vendors for the temple wedding, and handling family matters seamlessly. Everything was like clockwork under her supervision. Her reminder to the staff that the florist needed approval for the temple decorations, her instructions to the caterers about dietary restrictions for the ministers’ families… she knew everything. Truth to be told, her efficiency was intimidating.

Is this what they’ll expect from me too? As the eldest daughter-in-law of the Walia household, will I need to manage the household with the same expertise? The very thought makes me dizzy. How can I possibly juggle running my business across two continents with the responsibilities that come along with being a Walia bahu?

Tomorrow, Vishnu and I will get married again in the temple, following all the rituals of a traditional Hindu wedding, followed by the grand reception. Although this could have been postponed, the dates were rushed to align with Vishnu’s political timeline, as he needs to take charge as party president soon.

“But what about me?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Vishnu looks at me, confused, unable to understand the context of my outburst.

“What if I don’t adjust?” I finally ask him. “Nothing here feels normal, Vishnu. My entire life has turned upside down. I’ve left behind everything—my routine, my work, my friends. And now, tomorrow—”

“You’ll be my wife again,” he finishes for me, “in every way, traditionally.”

“And then what? After tomorrow, your responsibilities as party president will take over. What happens to me? To Veer? To my work? Am I supposed to be like Devika? Balancing everything effortlessly while being the perfect Walia bahu?”

Vishnu exhales deeply before responding.

“You’re overthinking it. No one expects you to be anyone but yourself, Simran. I don’t. My family doesn’t. You’re already juggling so much—your business, raising Veer, adjusting to this new life. We all see that. No one’s asking for more.”

“But I can feel it, the way everyone looks at me with expectation. Like I’m supposed to know what to do. Now, as your wife and a part of this family, even your staff wait for my instructions, only to turn to Devika when I look at them blankly. I see it in the perfectly coordinated chaos of this household, where everyone knows their role except me,” I argue, lowering my voice so Veer doesn’t get startled. “Devika handles everything so perfectly. She’s everywhere—managing the household, taking care of Avika, and supporting Aksh in his political career. How am I supposed to do all that and still keep my own identity intact?”

Vishnu moves closer, his hand cupping my cheek.

“You’renotDevika, Simran. And you don’t have to be. You’re my wife, Veer’s mother, and a woman who built her own empire from scratch. That’s more than enough. Don’t put unnecessary pressure on yourself.”

Veer stirs in my lap again, and I instinctively cradle him closer.

“It doesn’t feel like enough. Not here, not in this house.”

“It is for me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing away the tear that slips down my cheek. “It’s only been a day, Simran. You can’t pass a judgement that soon. Take it one day at a time,” he suggests.

Veer starts fussing again, and I realise he’s due for his night’s sleep. In New York, I had his schedule down to a science. Here, everything feels off-kilter. The time difference has thrown his sleep pattern into disarray. Also, the new surroundings is making him restless, and my own anxiety is not helping him either.

“One day at a time,” I whisper, more to myself than to Veer.

But looking at the mountain of work waiting for me, the upcoming ceremonies, the political obligations, and the cultural expectations, I wonder how many ‘one days’ it will take before any of this feels normal.

New York feels like a different lifetime now. There, I was Simran Thakkar, a successful businesswoman and independent mother. Here, I’m Mrs. Vishnu Walia, daughter-in-law of the Chief Minister of the state and wife to the future party president. The transition feels impossible, yet somehow, I know I have to make it work. For Veer, for Vishnu, and for this family that is still learning to trust me again.

CHAPTER 30

SIMRAN

Next Morning

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