2 ~ Troublemaker Chahat #2
I was still sitting beside Mukti when the door burst open.
"Mukti! Chahat! Tum dono abhi tak tayyar nahi hui?" Mumma's sharp voice echoed through the room.
(Mukti! Chahat! You two aren't ready yet?)
Mukti jumped a little, startled. I turned, meeting Mumma's eyes... the same eyes that once held warmth but now were filled with anxiety, as if every crease on her forehead carried the weight of society's expectations.
"Mumma..." I started, but before I could speak, Mukti stood up quietly and lowered her gaze. I could feel her trembling.
"Mumma, Didi ko shadi nahi karni," I blurted, stepping in front of her before Mukti could stop me.
(Mom, she doesn't want to get married.)
Mumma's face froze. "Chahat, yeh kya bakwaas hai?"
(Chahat, what nonsense is this?)
"Bakwas nahi sach hai!" I snapped, my tone sharper than I intended. "Unhe ye shadi agar nahi karni to aap log zabardasti kyu kar rahe ho unke saath?"
(It's not nonsense. It's the truth! If she doesn't want this marriage, why are you people forcing it upon her?)
Her eyes flashed with warning. "Awaaz neche karo apni."
(Lower your voice.)
"Nahi!" The word came out louder. "Uski khudki koi marzi nahi hai kyaa? Aap logon ko aesa kyun lagta hai ki ek ladki ki zindagi shuru ya khatam shadi pe hi hoti hai? She's twenty-four, not forty!"
(No! Does she not have a will of her own? Why do you people think that a girl's life begins and ends with marriage? She's twenty-four, not forty!)
Just then, Papa entered, his heavy steps and calm authority silencing the air instantly. His voice was calm but carried that edge that made everyone freeze.
"Chahat," he said, "Ye kis tarah baat kar rahi ho tum apni maa se. Aur hum dono ne ye faisla bohot soch samajh ke liya hai."
(What kind of way is this to speak to your mother? And the two of us have taken this decision after a great deal of careful thought.)
I turned to him, frustration rising in my chest. "Papa, please! Why can't you understand? She doesn't want this! You're not giving her a choice! Ek baar Mukti didi se baat to kijiye...unki marzi ka kyaa."
(Just have a word with Mukti Didi once... what about her wishes?)
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Chahat, bohot ho gaya. Bacchi ho ye sochke bohot manmani karne dete hain hum tumhe lekin iska ye matlab nahi hai ki tum bade ke faislon par sawaal karo."
(That's enough. We let you get away with a lot of self-willed behavior because we think of you as a child, but that doesn't mean you have the right to question the decisions of your elders.)
"Lekin Papa..."
(But father.)
"Chup. Ek aur shabd nahi." He scolded.
(Shut up. Not another word.)
"Mukti tum kuch bol kyun nahi rahi ho. Kuch to bolo..."
(Mukti, why aren't you saying anything? Say something...)
"Chahat!" His voice echoed making me still of my place.
Papa's eyes darkened with disappointment, but he didn't argue, he left. Just like that. As if my words were nothing more than childish noise.
I turned to Mumma, my eyes burning with unshed tears and fury. "At least you try to understand. You know she's not happy. Please talk to Papa. Convince him."
But she shook her head, her expression soft but unbending. "Yehi hum sab ke liye behtar hai, beta. Woh log acche log hain. Ameer, izzatdaar. Mukti wahan khush rahegi."
(It's best for all of us, beta. They're good people. Rich, respectable. Mukti will be happy there.)
I almost laughed bitterly. "khush? Chehra dekho aap uska. Kitni udaas hai wo, kitni pareshan hai. Aap kaise keh sakte ho ki didi wahan khush rahengi."
(Happy? Just look at her face. She is so sad, so distressed. How can you say that she will be happy there?)
"Yeh umar hoti hai shaadi ki," she repeated gently. "Wo bas thoda ghabrai hui hai is rishte ho leke. Aise hi sab hota hai. Tum samajh jaogi jab waqt aayega."
(This is the right age for marriage. She's just nervous because of this marriage thing. That's how it is. You'll understand when the time comes.)
Her words stung more than a slap.
I stared at her, my throat tightening. "No, It's not how it works anymore. It's not the old times. Mummy zamana badal chuka hai. Aaj auratein sirf chup nahi rehti, apne sapne nahi chhod deti aur naahi ghunghat mein apni puri zindagi guzaar deti hain. We're not bound to kitchen walls anymore."
(Mom, times have changed. Today, women no longer simply remain silent, nor do they give up on their dreams, nor do they spend their entire lives behind a veil.)
She didn't respond... just looked away, the argument ended before it truly began.
I stood there, fuming, my chest heavy with helpless anger. The urge to shout, to break something, to make them see, it burned inside me like wildfire.
But I swallowed it down, just like every woman in this house had done before me.
The only difference was... I knew, one day, I wouldn't swallow it anymore.
The door clicked shut behind Mumma, and silence wrapped around the room.
Only the sound of Mukti's soft breathing filled the air.
She stood there like a statue. I was still angry, my mind still burning with the argument we just had but before I could say anything, she whispered, "Chahat... I'm going."
I blinked, a slight grin tugging at my lips.
That's it.
And instead of stopping her...a slow smile tugged at my lips because whatever she was about to do...It didn't sound simple.
And simple was never my thing.