Page 98 of Mrs. Pandey
The hall erupted with thunderous applause, whistles, and cheers that bounced off the golden-draped walls like waves crashing against the shore. The chandeliers trembled with the sound, laughter and clapping spilling into the air as if joy itself had taken a physical form.
Prashant's mother rolled her eyes, her face disappointed and Priya murmured something to her mother which made my mother in law even angrier.
Beside me, sweet Pari clasped my hand gently. She leaned in, whispering words of encouragement I could barely hear above the roar of the crowd. Her touch was warm, supportive, unaware of the storm raging inside me. She thought this night was a celebration. She thought my smile was genuine.
And so I smiled too to mask the storm, but beneath it, my heart was pounding harder. My throat was parched, as if the wordsI carried inside had dried all the water in me. My palms were clammy against the silk of my saree, every nerve in my body screaming at me to act.
For one week, I had carried this decision like a burning coal. Every moment it scorched me, searing deeper, yet I refused to let it go until today because today, in front of all these people, I was going to let it burn everything down.
I took a step forward.
The sharp click of my heels echoed against the polished marble floor, cutting through the applause. Slowly, I reached into my purse. My fingers trembled, but they did not falter. When they emerged, they held the papers, the weight of them heavier than any jewel I had ever worn, heavier than gold, heavier than all the garlands and bangles the world could have offered me.
The applause dwindled into confused murmurs as I turned and held the papers out to Prashant. He frowned, his eyes narrowing. His hand hesitated before taking them, and as his gaze dropped to the bold title, "Divorce Petition." His breath caught.
A ripple of shock spread across the hall.
It was as though the sound itself had been swallowed by the walls. Glasses hovered mid-air, untouched. A fork clattered onto a plate somewhere, breaking the silence. Even the music that had been humming in the background faded into nothingness, as though it too understood the gravity of this moment.
I took in a shaky breath. My voice trembled at first but grew stronger and louder. "Yes, you read it correctly. These are divorce papers. I’m ending my marriage with you."
The gasps erupted in the entire hall. His mother's hand flew to her chest as if she was suffering a heart attack. Priya muttered curses under her breath and stormed forward, but Pari caught her wrist, her own face pale with disbelief.
I pressed on, my voice sharpening with the truth I had hidden for far too long. "I never imagined my marriage would end like this. I never imagined I would stand here, in front of all of you, to say these words. But sometimes the truth leaves no choice. I had no choice."
My gaze flicked to Prashant. His hands shook against the papers, his knuckles white as he gripped them. His jaw tightened, his throat working as though he was trying to swallow words that refused to come.
I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. "Prashant cheated on me. He broke the vows he made to me."
The collective gasp that followed was louder than any applause could have been. Women covered their mouths with their hands. Men shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Whispers slithered through the hall, carrying shock, judgment, and disbelief in every direction.
I looked at him again. The man who once held me when I cried, who once promised me the world, now stood frozen, stripped bare by the truth. His proud shoulders sagged under the weight of his silence. His lips parted, as though he might defend himself, but no words came. For the first time, the officer who commanded respect with a single glance stood helpless, his authority crumbling in his own hands.
I glanced at Riddhima Kashyap, standing at the corner of the room with a pale expression. My voice softened, but it carried strength. "I will not name the woman. I do not believe in destroying another person's image in front of the world. My dignity, my pain, is mine to carry, not hers to bear."
My eyes softened, though my chest throbbed with every beat. "All I want is freedom, nothing else."
I turned slowly, each step deliberate as I walked away from the stage. The silk of my pink saree swayed behind me, my bangles clinking softly against the roar of whispers building around me.
"Ira..." Pari's voice trembled as she caught up to me, her hand grasping my arm. Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill.
I shook my head gently, managing a small, sad smile. "Please, don't defend your brother."
Behind me, I could feel his sharp and desperate gaze boring into my back almost begging me to turn around. But the distance between us was no longer measured in steps. It had become infinite.
I walked away. The pink saree, the mangalsutra at my throat, the sindoor in my hairline as symbols of a bond that had lost its soul remained on me. But they no longer owned me.
I chose myself again over everything.
_______
Chapter 46
IRA
The sun filtered weakly through the sheer curtains, spilling pale light across the empty side of my bed. I had not slept much. The echoes of last night’s gasps, the stunned silence, the cold burn of eyes on me...all of it still clung to my skin like a second shadow. My body was tired, but my mind refused to rest, replaying every second again and again until exhaustion felt like punishment.
I ran my palm across the bedsheet, smoothing a wrinkle as though it might soothe the turbulence in my chest. The bangles I had not removed clinked softly, reminding me of the mask I had worn the night before: the woman draped in a pink saree, marked with sindoor and mangalsutra, who had chosen freedom in front of a hall full of strangers. That woman felt both like me and someone I no longer recognized.
