Meera's
The same day Akash was supposed to return…
It was already 4 PM, and I knew I had to head home. But my heart wasn't ready. I could already imagine how Akash would behave, and I didn't have the strength to hear his harsh words again.
So instead, I lingered outside for a while. I wandered aimlessly, took a slow walk in the park, even sipped a cup of tea—stretching every minute so I wouldn't have to face him just yet.
Then my phone rang. It was my mother-in-law, whom I lovingly call Mama. She said,
"Ignoring things won't help, Meera. Sometimes you need to face them, even fight back when necessary."
Her words gave me a small push, and so I finally made my way home.
When I opened the door to my room, my eyes immediately met Akash's. My instinct was to turn away, to escape before he said anything cruel. I quickly slipped out, changed my clothes, and went straight to the kitchen.
Aunty was there. She smiled and said,
"Meera, you should spend some time with Akash. Only then can your relationship move forward."
But Mama's voice interrupted softly,
"A relationship works both ways. It cannot move forward with just one person's effort."
No one else spoke.
Shruti entered with her usual excitement and asked,
"So, is there anything special for dinner today?"
I teased her back,
"Shruti, sometimes you should eat normal food too. You always want something special!"
Everyone burst out laughing. Shruti pouted and said,
"Bhabhi, don't tease me like that."
I chuckled and gave in,
"Fine, tell me what you want today. I'll cook your special."
For Shruti, special simply meant food that tasted extra delicious. So I made her favorite.
Just then, Rohan came running in, pretending to shoot Duggu with his toy pistol. Laughing, he said,
"Bhabhi, you must be very happy today?"
"Yes, Rohan," I smiled. "My salary just came in today."
Shruti's eyes lit up,
"Really, Bhabhi? There's no happiness greater than that!"
We all chatted and laughed together until everyone gathered at the dining table. Mama then asked Rohan to call Akash. A few minutes later, Rohan returned with him. I kept my eyes down, ignoring his presence—and it seemed like he ignored me too.
After dinner, Aunty told me,
"Meera, you should go back to your room now."
Honestly, I didn't want to. I lingered here and there for a while before finally walking into the room.
There he was—Akash—sleeping on my book, using my pillow. I hesitated, then quietly approached. Without disturbing him too much, I slipped the book and another pillow out and went to lie down on the sofa, reading quietly.
A strange sort of relief filled me—he was completely ignoring me. For once, that was exactly what I wanted. But after a little while, he switched off the light. I said nothing, simply continued reading by the glow of my phone screen.
The next morning, I woke early, went to the kitchen, and made coffee. I had made a little extra, so I thought of giving Akash a cup too. But when I offered it, he said bluntly,
"You don't have to do all this for me."
I quickly lied,
"Aunty gave me two cups. She asked me to give you one."
And honestly, why should I?
I got ready for the day. It was Saturday, so school would end early by 1 PM. A part of me wanted to come home afterward, but not to this room—not since Akash had returned. Because with him, I never knew when he would start again—boasting about how handsome he was, how I wasn't worthy of him. I didn't want to hear it.
Maybe from Monday, once he starts his new job at City Hospital, he'll return late at night. By then I'll already be asleep. That thought gave me a little comfort.
So for now, I finished breakfast, packed my things, and stepped out. Away from this negativity, into the world where at least a few positive vibes still existed.
Akash's POV
Saturday
Well, well… I have to admit, Meera has ignored me so perfectly, it feels like I don't even exist. Not a single question, not a single word on her own—like my presence in the room makes no difference to her. This is a first for me. Never has there been a girl who hasn't turned around twice to look at me.
But here I am, in the same house, in the same room, and Meera doesn't seem to care at all. This morning she was getting ready so calmly—no hesitation, no stolen glances, nothing.
Maybe I'm overthinking. Better I meet Neha, my mood will be fixed.
After breakfast, I head to the café. The moment I walk in, I see Neha. She's in a soft pink short gown—elegant, beautiful, everything perfect. Now this is what style and class look like.
I won't call it love, but I do like her. And yes, this is the kind of woman I want as my wife.
We sit together. Neha asks if Meera has been troubling me too much, or whether I might fall for her just because of her "care."
I smile faintly and reply, "Neha, trust me—Meera would be the last girl on earth I'd ever fall in love with."
She tilts her head. "Is she really that bad?"
I laugh softly. "Not bad… just no style. Always in plain cotton suits, simple long hair, no makeup, nothing."
Neha smirks. "Maybe that's because of you. She doesn't want to impress you, so she doesn't bother."
"No," I shake my head.
"Exactly," Neha leans closer. "That means she doesn't even like you, Akash. And honestly, that's good. The less she cares, the faster you'll both get divorced."
Her words should have made me happy. They didn't. Still, I smile and say, "You're right. The sooner I marry you, the sooner my life will settle."
Neha beams. She tells me she's trying to get into the city hospital's cardiology department so we can spend more time together. I say it sounds perfect. Her father is pushing for it, and maybe within a month she'll join.
I'm glad. She really is the best choice for me. I've had short relationships in the past, but nothing special. Neha and I, though—we've been friends for years. Later, she confessed her feelings, and I thought, why not? Maybe this is what modern love is—when you're comfortable with someone, when your thoughts align. And ours do, perfectly.
With my mood somewhat lighter, I head back home.
As I open the room door, I freeze.
Meera is asleep on the bed. Her dupatta has slipped to the floor. She's wearing a red cotton churidar, her hair loose, the soft breeze from the open window moving the curtains. By the bedside, the radio carvaan is playing…
"Aap ki nazron ne samjha
Pyaar ki qaabil mujhe
Dil ki ayye dhadkan theher jaa
Milgayi manzil mujhe
Aap ki nazron ne samjhaa
Jee humein manzoor hai
Aap ka yeh faisla
Jee humein manzoor hai
Aap ka yeh faisla
Keh rahi hai
Har nazar banda parvar shukriya
Do jahaan ki aaj khushiyaan
Ho gayi haasil mujhe
Aap ki nazron ne samjhaa
Aap ki manzil hoon main
Meri manzil aap hain...
I find myself standing there, silently. For some reason, I pick up her dupatta and place it back over her. Why did I do that? I don't even know.
The clock shows 4:30. I quickly step out of the room.
Something strange just happened inside me. Something I can't name.
In the kitchen, I make coffee. For a moment, I think of pouring a cup for Meera too. But then I remember the morning… and remind myself that one day, I'll leave her anyway. My real partner is Neha.
Still, her face lingers in my mind. Annoyed at myself, I take my coffee to the garden and try to distract my thoughts.
When I return, Shruti is in my room, chatting with Meera. They're laughing about something. Meera's laughter—loud, carefree—I've never seen that before.
Shruti notices me. "Bhaiya, come in, don't just stand there. It's your room."
I smile faintly and walk in. Meera, without looking at me, says, "Shruti, let's have tea. It's getting late." Then the two leave together.
I smirk to myself. "Meera, if you think I'll ever apologize, you're foolish. I'll break your heart and then walk away with Neha. Don't even dream otherwise."
Dinner is a family affair. The elders are discussing the puja planned for tomorrow—for our happy marriage. I almost laugh at the irony.
Duggu, my cousin, pipes up innocently, "Akash bhaiya, what's it like living in the same room with a teacher?" Everyone bursts into laughter.
Then he turns to Meera, "But Meera bhabhi is nice, right? She must not give too much homework."
Uncle shakes his head, "Duggu, you're the one who hates homework, not the other kids."
Meera stays silent, quietly eating.
Later, in our room, she sits reading under the soft glow of her phone screen. I switch the light on. She glances at me, but says nothing. I eventually fall asleep.
Morning. Cool drops of water wake me. I open my eyes to see Meera by the mirror, her wet hair dripping as she dries it with a towel. The drops had splashed onto my face. She's in a red saree today, the familiar scent of incense filling the room.
"You can use a hair dryer," I mutter.
"It's too noisy," she replies simply.
For a second, it feels like she cares. But no, it's just her pretence. She's only trying to make me bend first.
Everyone gathers, the pandit ji begins. But suddenly, Aunty intervenes, "Akash, you can't sit for this puja. Only couples can, and Meera can't—she got her periods. Your uncle and I will sit instead."
I nod and step away.
Later in the room, I confront her. "You lied, didn't you? About your periods."
She looks me straight in the eye. "Yes. I lied."
I narrow my eyes. "You? The sanskaari girl? Lying about something like this?"
"Because that puja meant nothing, Akash. Why should I sit for a ritual that pretends to bless a relationship which has no future? I only did what you wanted, didn't I? You should be happy."
Her calm tone fuels my anger. "Exactly. You're not worth sitting with me anyway. I'm the medical college topper, the most handsome in my family, while you're just a simple government teacher—average, with nothing that makes you stand out. Nobody even wanted to marry you. Your groom ran away, remember?"
Meera doesn't flinch. "Yes, maybe. But if you had run away too, at least I'd have lived peacefully. I have my job, my own earnings, and I can take care of myself. I don't need a husband for survival. I need a partner who'll stand beside me—and you, Akash, don't have that quality. Which means you're not worthy of me either."
Her words slice through me. "What did you say? I'm not worthy of you?"
"Didn't you just say the same about me? That I wasn't worthy of you because I lacked the qualities you wanted? Well, you lack the ones I need. It's the same thing, isn't it?"
Fury burns inside me. "If your father hadn't been sick, I'd have never married you."
"And I had no choice either," she shoots back. "I was his daughter. I couldn't say no."
Her voice softens, but her words are firm. "Akash, we'll have to stay in this room together. That's our compulsion. But for my father's sake, please take his treatment seriously. Recommend the best doctors you know. Only when his health stabilizes can we finally divorce. Until then—we live as strangers. You live your life, I'll live mine. No personal questions, no interference. Stay with Neha if you want, move in with her. That'll make it easier for me."
I clench my fists, my face hot with rage. "You're so arrogant, so full of ego! For what?"
She meets my eyes. "It's not arrogance, Akash. It's called self-respect. Arrogance is when a doctor thinks he's better than a teacher. That's you. Not me."
And then she walks out.
I slam a glass of water to the floor, chest heaving. Why am I so furious? She's only making things easier for me. Still, my blood boils. Maybe because—for the first time ever—a girl dared to say I'm not worthy of her.
I storm out of the room, grabbing my car keys. In the hall, she's laughing with Shruti and Duggu as if nothing happened. Like my words didn't touch her.
And that makes it worse.
I throw myself into the car, driving fast, too fast. Meera's words echo in my head, again and again, louder each time—
Until the car swerves—
And everything blurs into the sound of screeching tires and a sharp, endless BEEEEEEP.