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Shivangshi's pov-
.
I’m getting ready after cooking lunch for everyone, as guests are
coming over. I’m wearing a saree that Baba gifted me a few days
ago, paired with a small golden jhumka that belonged to my mother,
along with my mangal sutra and shakha pola—[the traditional
wedding bangles that Bengali married women wear every day].
My hair is naturally wavy, but I’ve tied it up in a bun since I'll be
serving food. Usually, I feel a bit insecure about my body, but today,
I feel good about myself. The saree is gorgeous, and when I checked
myself in the mirror, I thought I looked nice.
I hope they like me. I’ve heard that Mr. Sen is close to them.
.
I went downstairs to arrange the dining table. Aunty, Mitali aunty (our house helper), and I set the table with food.
The doorbell rang, and Baba went to open it. A woman in her 40s entered first. She was wearing a pink chiffon saree, her shoulder-length hair had a few grey strands at the front, and she looked stunning and stylish—like a character from a TV serial.
Behind her, a man in his 40s, who appeared to be her husband, followed. Lastly, a young man entered behind them. They greeted Baba, Aunty, and Granny warmly and happily. Baba called me to meet them and Granny introduced me to them.
‘Meet Shivangshi, our Rudra’s wife’’
I greeted them with a smile, but Mr. Sen’s mashi, Mimi, looked me up and down without returning my greeting.
“Jiju, what is this? This is the woman you chose for my niece?” she said, her tone dripping with disdain. “Rudra is handsome and popular—many girls would jump off a cliff to marry him, and you married him off to this... small elephant? Look at this fatso! How could you do this to Rudra, Jiju? Mrs. Sen, you’re Rudra’s granny—how could you allow this? If my sister were alive today, she would never have accepted this girl as his wife. Just seeing this ugly face is enough to ruin anyone’s day!”
“Mimi, what are you saying? Don’t speak like this. You don’t even know her,” her husband said, trying to stop her.
“Mimi, you are disrespecting my daughter-in-law,” Baba said, his voice firm. “If your sister were alive today, she would be ashamed of you. I didn’t know you were so narrow-minded to judge people by their appearance.”
“Oh, really!” Mimi retorted. “Now I’m the one who’s wrong? Then tell me, is Rudra happy with this marriage? If he’s so happy, then where is he? Why isn’t he here greeting us with his newlywed ‘wife’? Tell me!”
“Shut up, Mimi!” Granny snapped. “You are my daughter-in-law’s sister, and that’s the only reason I’m still tolerating you. Don’t you dare talk nonsense about Shivangshi!”
“Wow, just wow! Now I’m the villain here?” Mimi said, her voice rising. “What spell has this bitch cast on you all to manipulate you like this?”
Her words were like a dagger to my heart. I felt the ground beneath me shatter. I couldn’t tolerate this humiliation. I didn’t force Mr. Sen to marry me. Why, Ma Durga, why? Am I not your child? What sin did I commit to deserve this? Tears rolled down my cheeks despite my efforts to hold them back.
Am I so ugly that even seeing my face makes people unlucky? Is that why Mr. Sen avoids looking at me when he leaves for the office?
.
Flashback
‘how many times I have to tell you don’t show me your face when I am going out. You are a bad omen, you ruined my day you bitch, because of you my manager scold me today’ my father said slapping me in the face.
I was sleeping in my room after finishing all the housework when my father suddenly came into my room. He woke me up roughly and slapped me. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. All I had done that morning was hand him his glasses as he was leaving, because he was forgetting them. My stepmother stood at the door, watching me get slapped, smiling the entire time.
After that incident, I was forbidden from showing my face to them whenever they left the house. Perhaps they believed I was a bad omen. Once, my stepsister saw me before going to school, and later that day, she broke her arm. That night, my stepmother beat me with a belt, and my father said I deserved it. I was only 10 years old at the time.
Flashback ends …
‘What the hell is happening here?’
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