Chapter 1
"Shlok, aap..."
"Aastha vau!" A voice snapped harshly.
"Sorry Aai." She murmured quietly, quickly correcting herself, her voice an octave lower this time. "Sahib aap iss baar kitne dino ke liye jayenge?"
Her husband shot her a look that clearly showed that he was irritated at her questioning.
"Just for a few days," he replied curtly, dismissing her inquiry. He then tapped the side of his plate wanting to be served.
Aastha silently fumed at his actions but did his bidding, as was her duty. She was well aware that she was married into a family that abided by archaic traditions. Women here were merely a tool to make a man's life simpler, just like how a can opener was a tool to make it simpler to open a can.
She did everything carefully, under the watchful hawk-like eyes of her mother-in-law. The one woman, it seemed, who relished putting down other women and showing them their place. She did it multiple times a day to her and Sojal Vahini.
Did it come from a lifetime of having to go through it herself? Aastha mused absently as she watched the men-folk eat, fiddling with her mangalsutra.
Her own stomach was growling something fierce, but women in this house weren't allowed to eat until after their husbands had eaten.
She cursed her fate silently. What grave wrong had she ever done to get stuck in this situation?
Aastha was brought out of her thoughts when she heard Shlok tapping his plate again. The raakshas probably ate extra just so he could make her serve him multiple times during a meal. But still she kept her head down, and did as was expected, all the time plotting revenge in her head.
!>+<!
Aasha was packing Shlok's suitcase for his trip to Mumbai, while he was sitting on the window-bench working on his laptop.
This arrangement Aastha could live with. As long as Shlok Agnihotri stayed away from her, didn't talk down to her, and didn't accuse her of ridiculous things, they could co-exist peacefully.
By co-exist, she of course meant ignore the other's presence in their life almost entirely.
Since their marriage 4 months ago, Shlok had been spending a lot of his time in Mumbai, setting up the brand new Agnihorti Institution there. That suited Aastha just fine.
There was just the pesky little matter of them being bound together in holy matrimony. That forced them to interact somewhat.
"Will you need your brown shoes?"
Shlok grunted his assent. Then added, "Pack my black jeans as well."
"You left your black jeans in Mumbai last time."
"No I didn't." He argued stubbornly.
Aastha sighed. Sometimes he liked to fight just for the sake of fighting, and usually she didn't take the bait, but today she'd had enough of his petulant attitude. "I unpacked your bag when you came home last week and your black jeans weren't in there. You left them in Mumbai."
He finally looked up from his laptop and shot her a glare. "I brought them with me. Find hem and pack them."
Aashta could feel her hands clenching. She usually was a very non-violent person, but right now she wanted to rip his hair out for treating her like his own personal slave, expecting her to obey like a freaking dog.
"Listen here Shlok Agnihotri, you may be m..."
"Aastha Vau!" And angry voice cut her off from the door.
Aastha jumped and turned to see her mother-in-law at the door, glaring daggers at her. She quickly un-tucked her pallu from around her waist and smoothed back her hair. Aai always wanted her to look perfect.
"Aastha, is this how you talk to your husband?"
Aastha just remained silent, and stood with her head lowered. It was easier to not argue back. There was no winning against her Aai, and arguing with her about her irrational, sadistic son would get her nothing but more scolding.
Aai just continued speaking. "If your husband is telling you something, do it silently. It's not your place to argue with him."
Shlok stood up, angry, and pushed his laptop off to the side. "Don't barge into my room and tell her what to do. She is my wife and you have no right to speak between us."
His mother, never one to back down, replied just as scathingly. "She is the daughter-in-law of this house, she has to act a certain way."
"Your rules were that she could address me how she liked in this room. You have no right to come in here and correct her."
Mother and son glared at each other for a moment while Aastha just stood and fiddled with her fingers. She wished Shlok would shut up and stop defending her. She was almost certain that she was going to face retribution for this. Aai always got her back for any humiliation he caused her, or any words exchanged between her and Shlok. As though his behaviour was her doing. Wasn't that a laugh?
Before Aai could retort her gaze fell on the pair of shoes Aastha had in her hands. "Aastha, you are supposed to look after his things, look at the condition Shlok's shoes are in."
Aastha furrowed her brow as she examined the shoes. She didn't see anything wrong with them. They could use a polish, yes, but they seemed fine to her otherwise.
"He can't take them to Mumbai looking like that. Clean them up."
Going with her easier to just not argue' philosophy, Aastha nodded and started to look around for the shoe blush and a rag.
Aai had a terrifying smirk on her face when she spoke next. "Don't waste time Aastha, do it with your sari."
Aastha looked at her mother-in-law dumbly. Was she serious?
"Meri shakal mat dekho, clean his shoes and finish up his packing."
"B-but Aai..." Aastha trailed off. Aai just raised a single eyebrow and dared her to speak further.
Aastha felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she felt not only Aai, but her husband's eyes on her as well, waiting for her to make a move. She knew her mother-in-law would get her back, and this was her way.
She wiped off Shlok's shoes with the edge of her sari pallu, much to the smug satisfaction of Aai, who left with a nod. Aastha just continued to silently pack Shlok's clothes, not daring to look up at him. She knew his eyes were on her, she could feel his stare, but right now she felt no desire to see the victory in his eyes that would likely be there.
Why Bappa? What had she done to deserve this?
Aastha could feel tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of him. She zipped up his suitcase and without a glance back at him, scurried out of the room.
She made her way to the one place in the house that she felt serenity; the stone-paved verandah.
The house was silent, everyone was in their rooms. Everyone usually abided by a strict, but unspoken curfew. As it is, it seemed like no one wished to associate with each other after a certain time of the day and tended to just retreat to their personal spaces.
She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks as she sat on one of the lawn chairs.
Wiping them off, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees and rested her head on her knees staring up at the moon.
Yes, she was Aastha Agnihotri, wife of Shlok Agnihotri, sadistic, misogynistic, raakshas, khadoos, and she hated it.
Well, what did everybody think?
Edited by Allyson - 12 years ago
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