VANSHIKA NIRVAAN DEVRAAJ

I woke to sunlight spilling across my face, warm and intrusive, forcing my features to scrunch in quiet protest. The brightness felt  deliberate like the day had decided to begin without my permission, Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes.

For a moment, everything was blurred light, shadows, the faint outline of unfamiliar shapes. Then the room came into focus. Walls painted in muted grey and deep coffee brown enclosed me, the colors rich yet suffocating, like a space that wasn’t meant to comfort but to contain.

I stilled , this wasn’t my room? The realization didn’t arrive gently it struck Suddenly.

My heart skipped a beat, then another, as if it had forgotten its rhythm altogether.

I had gotten married yesterday.

The thought settled heavily in my chest, unfamiliar and unreal, as I pushed myself upright. The bedsheet crumpled beneath me, and the bed gave a soft, betraying creak at the slightest movement a thin, veering sound that made heat crawl up my neck.

Slowly, I sat straight, my fingers curling into the fabric as my eyes began to take in the room properly this time. Last night had been a blur of too many rituals, too much weight pressing down on me to notice anything beyond my own racing thoughts.

My gaze moved carefully, cautiously, across the space. The room was small smaller than I had expected. The walls, painted in shades of grey and coffee brown, felt closer in the daylight, as if they had shifted inward overnight.

The bed beneath me was just big enough for two people to fit barely. There was no extra space, no room to breathe or move without brushing against the other person. It was a conopy with rods adjusted on all side and white net curtains were hanging all the side. every slight shift of my body made it creak again, the sound loud in the quiet morning, embarrassingly.

A strange unease settled into my bones.I let my gaze wander again, slower this time, more deliberate , last night I hadn’t even looked around.

I had been too exhausted physically, emotionally, in every way that mattered. As soon as I was brought here, I had barely registered the space. I had just changed, my hands moving on instinct, my mind somewhere , and then I had collapsed onto the bed without a second thought. Now, in the quiet light of morning, it felt different.

Now I was awake enough to notice and enough to feel.

In the left corner of the room stood a wooden almirah, painted a dull black that swallowed the light instead of reflecting it. Beside it, a long mirror was fixed to the wall, its surface cold.

Next to the mirror was a table empty at first glance. A single chair was tucked beneath it, slightly pulled back, like someone had used it recently. And then, in the far corner, another table caught my attention. This one wasn’t empty at all. Books were stacked in uneven piles, files arranged with an attempt at order, and a pencil stand sat near the edge, filled with pens and sharpened pencils.

It looked like a small, quiet workspace my fingers tightened slightly at my sides.

Then my gaze shifted to the right side of the room. A large window took up most of the wall, its curtains hanging loosely from a steel rod, swaying faintly.

I pushed myself off the bed.

The moment my feet touched the floor, a sharp chill ran through me. The cold seeped into my skin, grounding me in a way that felt almost too real.

Step by step, I walked toward the window.

And when I reached it when my eyes finally took in what lay beyond , I gasped , It was a forest.

Everything was green so intensely, endlessly green that for a moment I forgot to breathe. Trees stretched as far as my eyes could go, blending into each other like they had no beginning and no end. Birds were chirping nonstop, their voices overlapping in a chaotic, beautiful rhythm that filled the air.

The forest didn’t seem to end, It just kept going and going.

I leaned slightly out of the window, trying to catch a better view, my eyes tracing the endless stretch of green. A strange calm settled inside me, quiet but real.

I couldn’t help but imagine how it would look at night.

When the moon would rise high above, surrounded by millions of stars and the entire forest would glow under that silver light, turning into something almost magical.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

I stiffened for a second before quickly grabbing my dupatta and draping it over my shoulders, my fingers fumbling slightly in the hurry. My heart began to race again, that quiet moment from before slipping away too easily.

I hadn’t even taken a bath.

It was my first day here what would they think?

I slowly opened the door there she stood his choti maa.

Last night, she had been the one to welcome me, gave me food to eat , to guide me through the rituals, and finally, bring me to this room. The memory of it all flickered in my mind as I looked at her now.

She was draped in a simple green cotton saree, the fabric soft and familiar. Her white hair was neatly combed back into a sleek bun, not a strand out of place. And when she smiled at me, the wrinkles beside her eyes deepened, giving her face a quiet warmth.

Without thinking, I bent down to touch her feet.

“Get ready and come down for the morning pooja,” she said in a calm, steady voice.

I nodded quickly.

She turned and walked away, her footsteps fading down the corridor. I closed the door softly and turned back into the room, my eyes searching for my luggage.

It wasn’t there, I froze at my place.

A sudden panic rose in my chest, sharp and suffocating. I looked around again, this time more hurriedly, as if it might appear if I searched harder.

My steps grew restless as I began walking back and forth across the room, my heartbeat quickening with each passing second.

I quickly picked up my phone, my fingers slightly trembling as I dialed his number.

Where had he gone so early in the morning?

And more importantly where was my luggage? How was I supposed to find it now?

The call rang and rang and then it cut he didn’t pick up.

A sharp wave of frustration rose within me. I tried again, pressing the phone harder against my ear as if that would somehow make a difference.

“What the hell” I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening around the phone. “Why isn’t he answering?”

My thoughts began to spiral, one over the other.

Now where was I supposed to go? Who would I even ask? Other than him there was no one I could turn to for my things.

And that realization made the room feel even smaller.

My eyes turned glossy at the thought, a sting building behind them before I could stop it. I sank onto the bed with a loud thud, the frame creaking beneath me again, echoing the heaviness inside my chest.

It was my first day and already, I felt trapped.

His choti maa had asked me to come down for the pooja what would she think now? That I was lazy? That I had ignored her words?

My fingers tightened in the fabric of the bedsheet, my thoughts tangling into knots I couldn’t undo.

Then a knock came at the door.

I quickly wiped my tears, brushing them away before they could betray me, and hurried to open it. It must be him.

But when I pulled the door open, it wasn’t him. It was his younger cousin brother Aditya.

He stood there with an easy, warm smile, as if mornings came naturally to him. “Good morning, bhabhi ji,” he chirped, his tone a little too cheerful for how heavy everything felt inside me.

I only nodded my head, unable to trust my voice enough to speak.

“Your luggage,” he said, gesturing toward the bags beside him.

Relief washed over me so suddenly that I almost felt weak. I stepped aside, giving him space to bring them in.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“I am always here to help consider me your personal assistant,” he replied dramatically, lifting his collar with a playful pride.

“Why are your eyes red, bhabhi ji? Were you crying?” he asked, his voice softer this time, laced with a hint of concern.

I quickly shook my head.

“No I just woke up now, so__” I lied, forcing a small smile onto my lips.

He studied me for a brief second, as if trying to read between the lines, but then his expression eased. Seemingly satisfied, he gave a small nod and turned to leave.

The door closed behind him and just like that, the room fell silent again.

I quickly opened my bags, my hands moving faster now, and pulled out a pink saree.My mother had told me to wear this on my first day.

For a moment, I just held it, my fingers brushing over the soft fabric, gathering myself, I stepped out of the room.

Thank God the bathroom was right beside it at least I didn’t have to worry about that.

I took a quick shower, my movements rushed and careless. I didn’t drape the saree properly just wrapped it loosely around me so it wouldn’t get wet. Peeking out from the bathroom door, I checked the corridor it's empty relief flickered through me.

Gathering the saree in my fists, I practically ran back to my room, my damp feet barely making a sound against the floor. The moment I was inside, I shut the door quickly behind me, my breath uneven from the sudden rush.

Taking a deep breath, I stood in front of the mirror.

But the moment I looked at my reflection, reality hit me all over again ididn’t know how to wear a saree.

The thought settled in, heavy and humiliating, and my composure cracked just a little. Tears filled my eyes again, blurring my own face in the mirror.

Now what? “Now what will I do how will I even ask anyone for help?”

The words barely left my lips before my voice broke. Tears spilled down my cheeks, warm and unstoppable then an another knock , I froze in my place.

Someone must be here to call me for the pooja.

A soft sob escaped me before I could stop it. The knock came again, a little firmer this time, pulling me out of my spiral.

Quickly, I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, trying to compose myself. One hand clutched the saree tightly in place, as if it might fall apart if I loosened my grip even slightly.

I swallowed hard and forced my feet to move toward the door.

“Vanshika?”

A deep, bold, rough manly voice came from the other side of the door. It was him.

My heart began to race faster than before, louder than it should, as if it might give me away.

What was I supposed to do now?

I wasn’t ready nowhere close. I was barely covered, the saree half draped and damp, my blouse clinging to my skin because of my wet hair. I didn’t even have a dryer, and he was standing right outside the door.

How was I supposed to open it like this?

Panic surged through me, fast . My hands started trembling, refusing to stay still as my thoughts spiraled out of control.

Oh God I was going to ruin my first day.

I let out a low groan, frustration and helplessness twisting together inside me, making my chest feel tight.

“Vanshika?”

This time his voice was louder firmer and intimidating.

My throat went dry instantly. No words came out. My lips parted, but nothing followed.

I forced myself to take a deep breath and turned toward the mirror.

Quickly, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my wet hair, twisting it tightly so the water wouldn’t drip anymore. My fingers moved faster than my thoughts as I gathered the loose saree, tucking it securely into the underskirt. Then I pulled the pallu over my shoulder, adjusting it just enough to cover myself.

It wasn’t perfect not even close to perfection.

But atleast I am wearing something.

My hands were still trembling as I stared at my reflection messy, rushed, barely put together.

Another second passed he was still outside.

I walked toward the door, each step slow and uncertain another knock came the third one.

This time, his tone was the same firm but when he said my name again, “Vanshika,” something inside me shifted. Every time he said my name  something happened.

Something I didn’t understand.

It was as if my heart suddenly dropped straight into the hollow of my stomach leaving a strange emptiness behind. A pull, sharp and unfamiliar, tightening somewhere deep inside me.

I couldn’t explain it.

I just felt it.

And that made my steps falter for a second before I finally reached the door.

I slowly opened the door, just enough to peek outside and there he was.

Standing right in front of me.

Those beautiful emerald  eyes.