Chronicles Of My Darling Husband

3. Atirajni (Part 3)

"So, Nishita," Yashoda Aunty began, strolling ahead and checking out the roses in the garden, "How was your trip to Mahabaleshwar?"

"It was alright," Nishita said, "Well, it was decent, but I figured it's perfect for a two-day getaway." She matched her pace with Yashoda Aunty's and stood beside her. "By the way, what's your name?"

Yashoda Aunty turned with a grin, a playful twinkle in her eye. "It's Yashoda. I noticed you caught it when Maa Ji called me, huh? Is this your go-to conversation starter?"

Gosh!

The back of her neck burned hot. "Yeah, I meant your full name."

"Yashoda Veer Singh."

"Alright," Nishita replied, "I'm not big on calling people 'Aunty', especially when they don't seem like one." She shrugged. "I prefer using names, but that might not be respectful, so I'll go with Mrs. Singh."

Mrs. Singh let out a small laugh. "Just a few minutes ago, you were ready to kick me out of your house, and now you're trying to butter me up."

Why is she so... so straightforward!?

"No... I mean... You just seem too young to be called an Aunty," she stammered, her face flushing as she spoke.

"My firstborn, my son is almost six years older than you," Mrs. Singh said proudly. "So, yes, I'm old enough to have a son for whom I am here and determined to find him a wife."

Her brain kicked into overdrive, and before she knew it, she clamored, "Your son is twenty-eight!?" She might have resembled a ripe tomato when the lady in front looked at her with amusement.

Mrs. Singh couldn't help but chuckle. "Almost, but not quite. He's just twenty-seven."

"Ah," she muttered, her cheeks still ablaze with embarrassment.

"Ah?" Mrs. Singh jibed, "Are you okay with that age difference?"

"Huh?" Nishita blinked, caught off guard by the spontaneous inquiry, and then it hit her.

Oh boy, she's quite the character!

She scrambled to retort, "Mrs. Singh, hold on, I never approved of anything!"

Mrs. Singh erupted into laughter.

Damn, she's making me nervous now!

"You really are something.", Mrs. Singh held her cheeks in her hands, "I can finally see a woman who could make my son feel happy, again."

What!? No, no, no!

Gently prying Mrs. Singh's hands from her face, Nishita shook her head in complete disbelief. "You're jumping to a lot of conclusions here, Mrs. Singh. Marriage is not exactly on my radar right now!"

"Hmm..." Mrs. Singh's smile persisted as she prodded, "So, what's with the sudden craving for my phone number?"

She dropped to her knees, plucking a few weeds that jeopardized her mother's favorite shrubs. "I just have this thing for collecting numbers of feisty, headstrong women."

"What? So you think I'm some kind of obstinate mother-in-law?" Mrs. Singh couldn't contain her laughter. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or offended! By the way, what do you plan to do with these women? Hand their numbers over to some underworld boss? Or starting your own underground network or what?"

Nishita blushed once more, "No... I've been trekking through various villages, and guess what? I've observed in many villages that numerous women lack the confidence to assert their independence. They hesitate to challenge the prevailing injustices in society, especially on themselves and their daughters. As a result, girl-child literacy suffers because many women don't recognize the importance of education in life." Standing tall, she leveled a look at Mrs. Singh. "You are the poster child for empowerment; Women like you can reach out to them. When a young woman, like me, engages with them, trying to impart understanding, they perceive it as an attempt to incite rebellion against their stupid and arrogant husbands." She sighed heavily. "It's disheartening. Watching all these potential powerhouses stuck in the kitchen, poppin' out babies—it's like a talent show gone wrong!"

Mrs. Singh raised a questioning eyebrow. "So, is that why you're steering clear of marriage?" she asked. "You're worried about being pigeonholed into a baby factory?"

"It's a part of it," she admitted. "I believe marriage can strip away a person's freedom, for both men and women. It can mean sacrificing individual happiness for the sake of family harmony."

As they walked together, Mrs. Singh listened intently to Nishita's extensive dialogue, nodding along as she poured out her thoughts. When they reached a cozy garden swing, Mrs. Singh took a seat and patted the cushion beside her, inviting her to join with a welcoming smile. Nishita appreciated it and happily obliged, sliding onto the swing and settling comfortably next to Mrs. Singh.

"Take my Papa, for instance. He's passionate about photography but had to shelve that dream to provide for our family," Nishita added. "And my Maa? She forgoes her share of mango slices to please me because I enjoy them too just like her."

"Hmm..." Mrs. Singh gestured for her to continue.

"I can't help but feel they've sacrificed so much of themselves for the sake of our family's well-being. They've lost sight of their uniqueness in persevering for our collective well-being."

After venting about her views on how a typical family works, Nishita caught Mrs. Singh gazing into the distance.

Is she zoning out? Seriously, what the heck!?

Clearing her throat, Nishita asked, "Mrs. Singh, what's on your mind?"

Mrs. Singh turned back, a soft smile on her face. "You're too pure to believe that people sacrifice without gaining something in return," she said. "We're all a tad selfish to be virtuously altruistic."

She was astounded by Mrs. Singh's remark. "Can you elaborate on that?"

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A/N

"Jiya Re" is dedicated to our travel enthusiast Nishita!

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