CHAPTER 8
Wadhwa Mansion – Teej Night
Mishti walked slowly, ensuring she didn’t hurt her injured foot, until she reached the small puja room at the end of the corridor.
Maria and another house help had spent the whole evening cleaning and decorating it with flowers and diyas, giving the space a warm, sacred glow.
Although they weren’t sure Karan would like it to be reopened, they did so on Mishti’s orders.
Karan wasn’t home then. After Dr Komal left, he also returned to his office.
Maria gently supported Mishti as she entered the room, holding the puja thali so Mishti could complete her fast and perform the evening rituals.
“You’ve decorated this place beautifully, Maria,” Mishti said, covering her head with the dupatta of her yellow churidar.
Maria smiled back. “Thank you, ma’am. I did it with the help of the others.”
“Why was this temple room closed for so many years?” Mishti asked curiously, her eyes scanning the little idols, the dust-free shelves now, and the faint scent of sandalwood that filled the air.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” Maria replied hesitantly. “But I heard that after Sir’s mother passed away, no one ever did prayers here, and he then ordered to lock this room.”
Mishti’s heart tightened. Of course. That explained everything.
Karan didn’t believe in God. Otherwise, who would order the temple room of their own house to be shut?
Her mind instantly replayed his cold words from earlier that day — “God hasn’t given me anything, Doctor. It’s always been me who’s given him.”
A shiver ran through her. How could someone think so highly of himself… even above God? What kind of pain had he endured to lose all faith like that?
She took a deep breath and turned toward the idol, folding her hands. “Please forgive him, God. He doesn’t mean it… he just doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
Then, with quiet determination, she said aloud, “From now on, this room will never be locked again. It will always stay open for prayers… and for the peace of this house and the family.”
Maria nodded quickly, her eyes softening with respect, as Mishti began the puja. The gentle ringing of the bells filled the mansion, even at the hallway where Karan had just been walking inside, back from work, in the middle of a heated business call.
The sound froze him mid-sentence.
He knew that sound.
That particular echo of bells that had once filled his home every morning—his mother’s hands holding those same brass handles, her voice humming prayers beside him. The memory cracked something open inside him.
He slammed the phone on the table, cutting the call, and strode down the hallway. Who dared to open that room?
When he reached the doorway, he saw Mishti placing the bells aside, her head still bowed as she prayed. Maria stood beside her, adjusting the tray of flowers. The sight of the decorated mandir with fresh marigolds, flickering diyas, stabbed him with nostalgia and rage.
He couldn’t bear it.
His hand shot out, pushing the flower vase at the corner of the room, which crashed to the floor, scattering the petals everywhere.
The sound made Mishti and Maria both turn sharply.
“Everyone… out. Now.”
Maria immediately hurried away, but Mishti stayed, her dupatta still draped over her head.
“With whose permission did you open this room?” he barked.
“It’s a temple, Karan,” she said softly, refusing to lower her gaze. “Why do I need permission to open it? I’m the bahu of this house—”
“You are not,” he cut in angrily, pointing a finger at her. “You’re not allowed to do anything here. This is my house, and I’m the only one who makes decisions here. This place stays closed. Do you understand?”
She looked at him, her chin lifting a little despite the tremor in her hands. “Give me one valid reason why I should stay away from this room. What memories are you running from? I know you don’t believe in God, but that doesn’t mean you can shut his doors forever.”
“Watch your words, Mishti,” he warned. “I don’t like anyone talking to me in that tone.”
“Then don’t do things that make me speak in that tone,” she shot back. “You married me. I am your wife, whether you accept it or not. This house is as much mine as it is yours. And with that right, I opened this temple room. It will stay open.”
For a moment, silence fell. He took a step forward, his anger simmering, but before he could say anything more, Mishti swayed suddenly, her hand flying to her forehead.
Her vision blurred, the walls spinning around her. She hadn’t eaten or even sipped water the entire day. Her head had been throbbing since morning, and now, after using the last bit of her strength to argue and stand her ground against Karan, her body just gave up.
“Mishti?” His voice changed instantly.
Her eyes fluttered. She was about to collapse and fall, but he caught her just in time. His arms came around her instinctively, pulling her close before her body went limp against him.
“Maria!” he shouted. “Get some water, now!”
He lowered himself onto the floor with her head resting on his lap. Mishti’s breathing was shallow; her face drained of colour.
“Mishti…? Mishti, open your eyes.” He patted her cheek gently.
Maria came running with a glass of water, panic written all over her face.
“Ma’am is fasting,” she said breathlessly. “How will she have the strength to face your anger, sir?”
Karan shot her a glare so sharp she instantly fell silent. He sprinkled water over Mishti’s face, then tilted the glass toward her lips, helping her drink it. As soon as a few drops slid into her mouth, her lashes fluttered open weakly.
Karan let out a quiet breath of relief, helping her sit up with his hand steady on her back.
“Get her something to eat,” Karan ordered.
“But, Sir,” Maria hesitated, “she’s fasting.”
“And I just broke her fast,” he barked. “Didn’t you see that? Now take her to her room and make sure she eats.”
Maria nodded quickly, helping Mishti to her feet, whose mind, though dizzy, was wide awake now. She looked at the glass in Karan’s hand, realising he had made her drink water. He had broken her fast himself, unknowingly.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t intentional. What mattered was that he had done it.
Her heart fluttered as she looked at him one last time before leaving the room.
Karan stood there, still tense, still angry, but a small smile curved her lips despite the exhaustion.
Her Teej fast had been completed after all.
God had given her another sign that her marriage wasn’t doomed yet.
There was still hope. And that hope, faint but glowing like the lamp in the mandir, was enough to keep her heart alive.
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A week later – Wadhwa Mansion
Mishti was in her bedroom arranging fresh lilies in the vase when the low growl of Karan’s car engine broke the silence.
She hurried to the window just in time to see him striding out of the house, sharp in a black casual shirt and jeans, his duffel bag slung carelessly over one shoulder.
He took the keys to his car from the driver and got inside.
Where was he going with a duffel bag? Wasn’t he coming home tonight?
Maria appeared in her room, that very moment, asking her what she would like for dinner.
“Maria, do you know where Karan is going?”
Maria shook her head. “No, Ma’am. He didn’t say anything. Just said he would be back tomorrow late afternoon.”
Mishti’s frown deepened. Tomorrow?
She reached for her phone. There was only one person who could possibly know…Rajat. She scrolled to his number and hit call.
“Ah, Mishti!” Rajat’s cheerful voice boomed through the receiver. “I was just about to call you!”
She blinked, taken aback. “You were?”
“Of course. To check if you and Karan have started or not for Lonavala.”
She was confused.
“Lonavala?”
“Mishti, c’mon. Didn’t Karan tell you? It’s my birthday today.”
Mishti’s eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Rajat! Happy birthday!”
He laughed softly. “No apologies. But you are coming right, with Karan? Just like every year, my friends have hosted a small party tonight, in my farmhouse in Lonavala. We all do stayovers. This time, you too are joining the group.”
Her heart skipped. “Karan… has already started, I guess. And I cannot come. But please enjoy your day, Rajat.”
“Wait a minute. Karan has already started and he didn’t tell you? But I’d invited you too.”
Mishti hesitated, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He didn’t mention it. And I don’t think it’s right for me to come. You’re celebrating with your friends; I don’t want to intrude.”
“Mishti, don’t even think like that,” Rajat said warmly. “You’re family now. Everyone’s excited to meet you properly as Mrs Mishti Wadhwa. Come on, you have to meet Karan’s friends. You’ll love them.”
She smiled faintly at his attempt to make her feel included, though a nervous flutter rose in her chest. “Still… if Karan didn’t tell me, maybe he doesn’t want—”
“Stop right there,” Rajat interrupted. “You’re my guest, not his shadow. And if my best friend has a problem with that, he can take it up with me. You’re coming, Mishti. No excuses.”
Mishti could almost picture his grin on the other side. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”
“Never have, never will,” he teased. “I’ll text you the address. Be here by night. And bring that calm, pretty smile of yours, the one that’ll make even grumpy Karan behave for a change.”
She chuckled softly and agreed, though her heart was already beating faster, wondering if Karan would like her to be a part of his friends or not.
She hung up, promising herself she would go not to impress anyone, not even Karan, but because she deserved to stand beside him as his wife, no matter how much he tried to push her away.
“Maria, I’ll need your help. I’m going out tonight,” she said, turning toward Maria, who was still there, waiting patiently. “Let’s pick something… nice. I want to look like Mrs Karan Wadhwa tonight.”