Where exactly is my house?
Time dragged itself as though it was not interested in moving forward. The
evening took a lifetime to envelop the world in darkness.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed . Her eyes appeared like drought soil in the heated summer . Her body was craving for water but her soul was dead .Her hands trembled as her hand placed the blade on her left wrist. Her chest jerked with a thud, and one single tiny droplet fell on her right cheek tracing the valley in between the inner corner of her right eye .
“Tears is the symbol of weakness,” a familiar voice spoke out in her brain.
The right hand came to a halt when she realized she did not dare to run the blade along her wrist.
Her entire life floats before her watery eyes, burning her eyes and tearing apart her heart and soul.
She was thinking so many things had happened within these five months, and she was the observer of it, although she had an audience none had listened to her howling of her broken heart, if they heard but they pretended to be not heard. First, she was only the daughter of their parents then turned into somebody else's wife. She was like a blank canvas, nothing written on it, nothing drawn on it. Whatever colors or dirt life threw on her, never stuck on it.
Flashback…
“Ayesha didi …Ayeshaa didi!!!”
“ What happened, Anisha ?”
Ayesha glanced at her sister, who was four years younger than her. She was the eldest of four daughters in her family.
One of her sisters died of pneumonia at the age of five months.
When Ayesha had the opportunity to sleep on her mother's lap, she would often hear her mother talking about her younger sister.
Anisha parted her thin pink lips. Aayesha saw her grandmother's mother coming to her in their room.
Three sisters sleep in a single room near their grandparent's room.
Rohit slept in his grandparent's room until he was twelve years of age but later he demanded his father to make a single room only for him.
His father agreed. Not only his father, but everyone in the family never said no to any demand of Rohit.
Ayesha remembers seeing her mother do so many rituals to get a son. God has blessed her with a son finally. Rohit was the youngest member and so the youngest child of their family.
Ayesha was eight years older than Rohit.
When Rohit was born, Ayesha was then eight only by age
“ Finally Romita has become a mother. A complete woman she is now. My family descendant has been born “
what she heard then nothing did she understand the deeper meaning of her it what her grandmother actually emphasized by saying so.
..
Little Ayesha found her grandmother had never smiled like that before. Her eyes were thinking.
All three sisters affectionate their little brother so much as if he were their little prince.
Ayesha's grandmother informed her that tomorrow she didn't need to go to college, gorom side would come to see her that day. She was very lucky as they chose her when they visited at a wedding ceremony a few days ago.
Ayesha opens her mouth to inquire why their family selected a boy without bothering to let her know.
Her grandmother always dropped the matter before her,
“ You will be lucky, they are a very wealthy, educated, decent family. Perhaps my son has done good work in our life that's why DeviMaa showered her blessings on you. “
Ayesha stood there like a stone. As Hopeless as motionless.
She knew there wasn't any point in arguing. Because nobody was going to hear her.
Her three younger sisters teased with the name of her would-be husband.
Ayesha thought about talking to her mother
“ Maa, at least you could tell me. you all saw a boy for me and…
Her mother interrupted “When in this house anyone listens to my decision. Everything is done by your father and your grandmother…
“ Maa until my exams you could wait at least “
" Ayesha you are not going to be an Officer or the minister. You will have to do household work so what is the use of doing studies? You have already done with your graduation. There are other children in our family besides you. Your other sisters are also growing up . I have to think about all of them . And You are 23. More than sufficient to produce offspring for your own household. This is the appropriate moment to apply mehendi on your hands.We also need to take care of your other three sisters after you have got married.
Ayesha stared at her mother hopelessly . She realised there wasn't any point in arguing with her family. Nobody would listen to her .If they do listen to her by grace of God but they do not understand her .
Romita's jaw tightened face melted as she could read the silence of her daughter.
“ Don't worry, The family is very good by heart. They will not let you do work instead. And if they allow you to study and then continue it then no one else will be going to stop you then “ Her mother's eyes were glistening as if she could visualise her daughter's fortune.
Ayesha lay down on the bed with closed eyes, but sleep was far away from her reach. Her younger sister was sleeping facing her back to her.
That night darkness wasn't only in the surroundings, it also spread predominance within her soul.
Floods of thought gathered into her mind.
The place where she was living was a house not a home for her. Although she was aware that she would be getting married one day things would happen against her will she wasn't aware of it in her wildest dreams.
Ayesha learned many things from her mother at the very early age of twelve .. She followed her mother everywhere she went.
Whenever she made rotti in the kitchen for her father and also the other members of their house, she too mimicked her mother's rolling roti.
Initially, her mother gave her small pieces of dough atta which seemed to her to be clay, a new toy for playing, she would roll it between her
palms and make a face on it.
But her little phase of childhood soon ceased before she hit puberty.
All the things a little girl usually does, she skipped and passed on to her younger sisters.
At the age of ten, Ayesha used to observe her mother performing household chores. She had witnessed her mother handling domestic duties with the skill of an expert worker. Sitting in the corner, she would rock Rohit, her younger brother, on her lap. Her mother could knead the flour for the rotti with one hand while holding her brother in her arms. After the baby sipped the first nipple dry, she flipped him or her over in her lap to change them.
Her every move was effortless and smooth.
As she began to help her mother with her household work, Romita could pay attention to her other children.
She remembered how her grandmother snatched the toy from her and replaced that with vegetables to cut down. Ayesha watches her mother chop vegetables into small pieces, cutting potatoes into different shapes, and making curry, egg dishes, jeera rice, and hot pori for breakfast. Out among all dishes she had learnt from her mother Kheer was her favourite as it was cooked on rare occasions, manly on fastival and on her birthday. Her mother made that for her.
Mirroring her mother’s moves, Ayesha’s little hands moved swiftly cutting vegetables, stirring curry when it started boiling. She put her all efforts into pressing her small fists in the soft lump of flour.
Despite the beads of sweat covering her forehead and nape, she acted as though she was an expert on everything. Nothing Could make her tired anymore.
Once her delicate finger cut when the knife ran over her soft skin, she winced in pain, she burnt her hand while cooking once, and her knuckles went deep red when flipping the roti on hot tawa. , nonetheless, she never let her mother know about it. Not even a sound came out of her mouth. Her face remained calm and soft all the time as if her hands did not send signals of pain to her mind.
That day she hid that from her mother. She didn't know why that little Ayesha called her mother that time.
She healed her cuts with a paste of turmeric and mustard oil. And for burns, she would apply an ointment which watched her grandmother do whenever she got any burn
But tonight she really needs to sob in her mother's lap. She had an urged cuddle in her mother's arms.
There wasn't any physical injury but her heart ripped apart, bleeding, and all her pain tickled down from her eyes in the shape of a stream of watery pearls .
But nobody was there to see her, not even her sister who was sleeping adjacent to her. Not even her mother.
Noone
One month later the marriage was held.
During the wedding ceremony married women teased her while singing the song in their local language.
She found everyone was happy in her surroundings.
Her grandparents, and her uncle who were four years older than her father.
Since her marriage was fixed something magic appeared in her life. It was her father who Ayesha never had seen smiling or laughing for her.
As she grew up she noticed her father had developed wrinkles on his face ,he looked tired and got irritated oftentimes. She could see the hollowness in his voice. His words are lacking in empathy. A picture of his father was painted in her life only on rare occasions.
She first became aware of the weight of responsibility on his shoulders when she was just seventeen years old. That burden would lighten with her marriage.
The groom's lack of dowry demands from the bride was another factor in her father's happiness.
Ayesha was able to read that her cousin's sister was envious of her.
However, she was only aware of the weight over her chest , so great that it made it difficult for her to lift up, and prevented her from standing up straight on her knees.
Not even in their wildest of dreams, Ayesha could imagine her life wouldn't be the same after that night.
… … … … … … .
At last, Ayesha and her fiancé tied the knot.
She was warmly welcomed to her new home by her mother-in-law.
It was the home of her in-laws. She moved out of her paternal home.
"Where exactly is my house?" She had an internal question from someone.
Before embarking on her new journey, Ayesha noticed her mother-in-law giving her a hug as she touched her feet to receive blessings.
"Relax, bahu. Think of it as your own house. I am also your other mother," her mother-in-law said to her.
Ayesha observed that the voice was devoid of fondness. Although Gautam' mother was smiling at her, Aeysha could see no love in those prickly eyes.
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