Page 104 of Mrs. Pandey
At the sound of my voice, she quickly wiped her tears, but I had already noticed the bruises on her hands and cheeks.
“Ira…” she murmured, trying to compose herself, but her broken state was too raw to hide.
My chest burned with anger. “What happened to you?” I asked angrily.
Kavya lowered her eyes, her lips trembling as if she wasn’t sure whether to speak or not. I gently sat down beside her on the bench. For a moment there was only silence, broken by her quiet sobs. Finally, she whispered, “They are forcing me, forcing me to marry a man I don’t even know. I said no… I told Papa I won’t do it. But… Bhaiya… he…”
Her voice shattered and I saw fresh tears roll down her swollen cheeks. She pulled her dupatta tighter to hide the marks, but I had already seen them. “They beat you?” I asked, my throat tight with rage.
She nodded slowly. “Bhaiya said I have no right to speak. Papa said my refusal has brought shame to our family. They dragged me out of the house… I didn’t know where else to go.”
I clenched my fists, my chest burning with fury. I wanted to storm into her house and scream at them, make them see what monsters they had become. But all I could do right now was protect her.
“Come with me,” I said firmly, standing up and holding out my hand. She hesitated for a second, then placed her trembling fingers in mine.
The walk back to my quarter was quiet. She kept her head lowered, as if every step weighed heavy with humiliation. When we reached, I guided her inside and closed the door behind us.
“You’re safe here, Kavya,” I said softly, making her sit on the couch. I fetched a glass of water and placed it in her hands. She sipped shakily, then buried her face in her palms. I sat next to her and put my arm around her shoulders.
She broke down completely, sobbing into me like a child. “I can’t do it, Ira… I can’t marry like this. I feel like someone is choking me to death.”
“Shhh…” I stroked her hair to calm her down. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Listen to me, Kavya… you’re not aloneot anymore.”
Her grip on my hand tightened. Slowly, her breathing began to steady. She looked at me with swollen eyes but I could see the faintest glimmer of relief in them.
That night, I tucked her into the bed in my room while I settled on the couch. She finally slept, her face soft and peaceful after hours of struggle. ______
Chapter 49
IRA
I was growing larger and larger as the days passed by. Six months had already gone by, and now my bump had grown quite big, so big that sometimes I struggled even to roll over in bed. I didn’t know the gender of my baby yet, but deep inside, it felt like a baby boy. A strange, motherly instinct told me so. God, I thought, soon I will see little Prashant running around this very house, giggling and filling every corner with joy. The thought made me smile faintly, though there was an ache beneath that smile.
"I swear I will never forgive that bastard Prashant Pandey for leaving you like this!" Kavya’s voice boomed from the kitchen, sharp as she slammed a pan onto the counter. "Tell me, Ira, are all army officers like this? Cold, arrogant, distant? They charm you once and then turn into strangers?"
I stroked my belly softly, feeling the stillness of my baby within, and shook my head. "No, not all," I murmured.
In truth, I never thought the woman I once found too noisy and talkative would become my closest friend. Yet here she was, Kavya Singh, she was fiery, outspoken, and without doubt, the kindest and funniest woman I had ever known. She was my anchor in these months when I had thought the ground beneath me had slipped away. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed this much before she came into my life, but with her, I found myself laughing every day, even with my swollen feet, aching back, and restless nights.
Kavya had practically moved in with me since that day, helping me with everything. It wasn’t as though I wanted anyone to do my chores, but she insisted on being there for me. And perhaps, in some strange way, I needed her too.
I knew from before that she was a Kathak dancer, but what surprised me was learning she was also one of the best interior designers I had ever met. With her talent, she transformed my dull army quarters into a home that felt alive. The pale white walls now had warmth and personality; she chose curtains, cushions, and furniture so perfectly that the house looked like it belonged to someone who hadn’t lost all her joy.
When my mother arrived and stepped inside, she was speechless. "I can’t believe this is the same quarter I visited months ago!" she gasped, her eyes sweeping over the elegant touches. "This doesn’t look like a barrack house at all...it feels like home." She had been so impressed by Kavya’s talent that she helped her find a few wealthy customers in town, people who could afford her eye for beauty.
One morning, as I sat at the dining table rubbing my belly lazily, my mother cracked eggs into a pan. The sizzle filled the silence. She turned and smiled. "And how’s that little one doing in there today?" she asked warmly.
I patted my bump with fondness. "I think he’s sleeping," I said softly, smiling. "It kicks all the time, but today it feels quiet."
I was on maternity leave, and for the first time in years, life was slower. I was surrounded by my mother’s presence and Kavya’s companionship. Sometimes I considered going back to Udaipur, but the thought of facing those haunted memories stopped me. Kabir was gone, buried with his sins, and Amish, last I heard,was paying for his karma, suffering from a spinal injury after a terrible accident. I thought I would feel satisfaction at their downfall, but when it happened, I felt nothing. No joy, no closure, only an emptiness that refused to leave.
And then there was Prashant.
It had been months since I last heard from him. He had gone on a mission, and I didn’t know whether he was safe or even alive. Sometimes I asked around, and once or twice, I overheard colleagues whisper that Aryan had been transferred again into the same unit, on the same mission. But Prashant? He was a ghost, absent and silent.
One afternoon, I turned to Kavya while she placed a steaming plate in front of me. "How’s Avni doing?" I asked, curious about her old friend.
"She’s fine, but she’s struggling," Kavya sighed, brushing her hair back from her face. "Two kids on her hands, and Aryan’s been transferred to Jammu again. She barely gets a moment to breathe."
