Chapter - 1
The darkness wrapped around me as I ran, the sounds of honking cars and rumbling trucks mixing into a frightening melody.
My heart raced, beating against my chest like a scared bird trying to escape.
The cold wind swirled around me, but the chill in my bones wasn't from the night air.
It was the deep fear that someone was behind me.
I had no idea where I was going; I just knew I had to keep moving.
With each step, my legs felt heavier, and tiredness pulled at me.
I couldn't even remember how I ended up here.
Just when I thought I couldn't go on, a light appeared in the distance, shining through the darkness like a beacon of hope.
I stumbled toward it, desperate for help, but I barely noticed the blaring headlights of an approaching car as I rushed to cross the road.
Suddenly, everything went black.
I jolted awake in my bed, heart racing and breathless.
Thank goodness it was just a dream! I sat up, rubbing my eyes in disbelief.
Why do I keep having nightmares like this?
They never seem to stop. Sometimes I fall from high places, sometimes I'm chased by dogs, and now this.
Shivji, what have I done to deserve such torment?
Can't you let me have one good dream? Life is already tough enough.
Why must my mind be so cruel?(Shivji -Lord Shiva)
Glancing at the clock, panic surged through me.
It was 6 o'clock! Oh no, Shivji! Today my Taiji will definitely be angry with me!
I jumped out of bed, cursing myself for sleeping in.
How had I let this happen? I dashed to the washroom, splashing cold water on my face to wake up.
After a quick shower, I put on a simple suit.
The fabric felt like a comforting hug against my skin, even if it was a bit loose.
(Taiji - Father's elder brother's wife - aunt)
As I headed to the kitchen, a familiar knot of dread twisted in my stomach. I could already feel the storm brewing.
"Oh, look who finally decided to join us!" my aunt, Meenakshi Rajput, said sharply. "Where are your feet so I can touch them, since you've graced us with your presence?"
"Sorry, Taiji, today I—" I started, but she cut me off.
"'Sorry'? You're always sorry! Lazy girl, you're late every day. My hands are aching, and I had to make tea myself because of you."
I lowered my gaze, trying to hide the hurt that bubbled inside me. I wanted to shout that I was not lazy, that I had my own struggles, but the words wouldn't come. This was my life, and I had learned long ago that silence was my only refuge.
"What happened, Mom? Why are you yelling so early in the morning?" Natasha, my cousin, yawned as she walked in.
"It's nothing, dear. This girl is just so lazy, never gets anything done on time. I was just telling her she can't stay here for free."
Hearing those words pierced my heart. I wanted to yell that I didn't ask to be here, that I was forced into a life where my worth was measured by how much I could serve. But I couldn't. I had to bear it.
"Siya was doing my assignment late at night. I had a headache, so that's why she was up late," Natasha said casually, as if it were no big deal.
"Fine, fine, whatever. Just hurry up. Your uncle will be here for breakfast soon," my aunt snapped.
My aunt's expression softened as she turned to Natasha. "Is that so? Oh, my poor child, why didn't you say so earlier? Come, let me make you something for that headache."
I appreciated Natasha's attempt to help, but it didn't change my reality. I felt a flicker of gratitude for her intervention, but it was short-lived.
I quietly made breakfast, the routine familiar yet suffocating.
I knew better than to eat with them; my aunt would hurl insults at me, and I wouldn't enjoy a single bite.
Tauji, my uncle Suresh Rajput, watched quietly, never saying anything to stand up for me.
(Tauji -Father's elder brother - uncle)
After breakfast, my aunt's voice rang out again. "Siya, you will do the dishes today; the maid won't come, and my hands hurt."
"Yes, Taiji," I replied, resigned to my fate.
As I washed the dishes, Natasha appeared again. I turned to her, thankful for her earlier support.
"Thank you for covering for me," I said quietly.
"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You lied for me," I said quietly, my heart aching for the truth that I could never voice.
"Yeah, that's fine. I didn't lie for you; I had a headache and didn't want to listen to all this shouting early in the morning," she replied, turning away as if our conversation didn't matter.
I finished my work, my heart heavy with unspoken words, and left for college. Each step felt like a reminder of my reality—a reality I wished I could escape.
As I stepped onto the college campus, a familiar sense of loneliness washed over me.
I looked around, but there were no friends to greet me.
My aunt didn't like me hanging out with anyone, so I had learned to keep my distance.
I remembered how, whenever I came home late from school, her anger filled the air.
"You're late because you were talking to friends!
" she would shout, even when all I did was walk home.
It hurt, and over time, I just stopped trying to make friends.
Classes felt like a blur today, and during my free time, I found myself in the library.
I loved getting lost in books, where stories could take me away from my reality, even if just for a little while.
It was my sanctuary, a place where I could forget my troubles and dive into worlds filled with possibilities.
After my last lecture, I hurried home, eager to make tea for Taiji. I set the kettle on the stove, the sound of boiling water calming me. "Here's your tea," I said, handing her the cup.
"Oh, and don't bother cooking today. We're going out for a party," she replied without even looking at me.
A wave of disappointment washed over me. I was never invited to parties—just another reminder that I was different. Natasha had tried to convince my aunt to take me along once, but all I could remember was my aunt's dismissive words: "What will she do there? What's the point?"
As they left for the party, I felt a mix of sadness and relief.
I didn't feel like cooking for myself anyway.
Instead, I made some instant noodles and poured myself a cup of tea.
Eating alone in the quiet kitchen felt normal now.
After finishing my meal, I cleaned the kitchen, my thoughts drifting as I scrubbed the dishes.
With everyone out for the night, I locked the house behind me and retreated to my cozy room. The soft floor mattress, fluffy pillows, and small rug felt like a warm hug after a long day. I glanced at the tall mirror by the window before looking outside.
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I often shared my day with the stars, feeling like they were my silent audience, listening to my joys and sorrows. It was my way of keeping their memory alive, a connection to the love I had lost.
As I lay down on my mattress, the familiar ache of loss settled into my heart. I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over me. Eventually, sleep found me, and I surrendered to it, hoping for dreams that would take me far away from the pain of my reality.