One day, Arjun went up to the terrace. The time had come for him to return to his job, far from home and family. As he stood there, he saw Shreya drying her thick, dark, curly hair in the golden sunlight.
Softly, she was humming an old Lata Mangeshkar song: "Jab pyar hua is pinjre se, tum kehne lage aazaad raho…"Arjun paused at a distance, listening to the melody, and an involuntary smile touched his lips.
Noticing his smile, Shreya suddenly turned around and blushed deeply. After many days, she had finally stepped out into the sunlight; otherwise, she rarely left her room.
This small change felt pleasant to Arjun.He walked closer to her and said gently, "It's good that I found you here on the terrace. I was thinking of speaking with you before I leave. While I'm not here, please take care of everyone. Mother is often unwell; you'll have to look after her. If any problem arises or if you face any difficulty, keep my phone number and inform me. I'll try my best to resolve it."
As they descended from the terrace, he added with a faint smile, "You sing beautifully. There is the living presence of Goddess Saraswati in your voice."
"You can live your life freely, exactly as you wish—just as you lived before. Consider that those difficult days never happened. Treat this family as your own. This tough phase will pass too."That was the extent of their brief meeting—the small gesture Arjun had made before departing. Yet it remained nothing more than a formal courtesy, one that could not be given any deeper name.
Inside the house, a quiet pain lingered in the mother's heart. Her eyes often searched for Shreya beyond the room. She longed to see her, to sit with her and talk, to normalize the situation. But words would freeze on her lips. "Perhaps it will take time… perhaps she is finding it difficult to adjust to this new home," she would console herself and remain silent.
The daughter, Ranjana, was accustomed to the lively bustle of the house, but Shreya's door mostly remained shut from inside. Both mother and daughter felt hurt by this behavior in their hearts, yet they feared to speak. They were afraid that if their pain reached her, she might feel bad. Neither wanted to escalate any issue unnecessarily.
Every night, the mother would pray silently to God: "O Lord, grant her a sense of belonging, so she may unlock the hesitation that has sealed her heart, and this house may once again become a true family."
Once or twice, Ranjana had complained to Arjun, "Shreya only cares about herself. She makes no effort to mingle with anyone in the house."
Arjun had replied calmly, "Let her be as she is. We cannot force her to talk."Arjun, Ranjana, and their mother believed that the shock must have been deep, which was why she was unable to adjust to the new environment.
But Shreya remained indifferent to all such thoughts. She had no interest in anyone in the house.Ever since Shreya had arrived, visitors would drop by almost daily—some under the pretext of seeing the new daughter-in-law, others to inquire about the mother's health.
Ranjana would grow irritated. "I can't entertain these neighbors every day. They can't manage their own homes, yet they come poking their noses into ours."
The mother would gently calm her, "Let it be, my child. This is human nature. If you ask about their families, they start looking the other way. They feel no shame in making fun of others."
Since Shreya never stepped out of her room, the neighborhood women could not digest it. They would come and lecture Ranjana and the mother on society, decorum, and virtuous conduct.
One day, a woman gave Shreya a lengthy sermon on the proper adornments of a married woman. For some reason, Shreya remained quiet that day. But afterward, she confined herself even more strictly to her room.
An elderly lady had once told her, "Now you are the daughter-in-law of our house and this neighborhood. A bride should be beautiful and graceful—wear a small bindi on your forehead, vermilion in your hair parting, and bangles on your wrists. These are the marks of a new bride. Of course, your smile itself is the greatest ornament."
Shreya showed no interest in managing the household or understanding its needs. She did not even come out to eat. Ranjana would carry food to her room and, once or twice, would inquire about her well-being. Shreya remained either busy on her phone for hours or asleep. She was completely unconcerned whether her lifestyle affected anyone or not. She had extended no hand of friendship toward anyone.
Meanwhile, Ranjana single-handedly managed the mother and all the responsibilities of the house. Sometimes the mother would cook so that Ranjana could feel a little like she was at her maternal home; otherwise, it seemed her fate was to handle the kitchen in both households.
Shreya continued to live like a guest, showing no interest in any family member.For the past few days, she had begun going out for two hours in the evening. Where she went, she never said, and no one had the courage to ask. Fearing she might take offense, they never questioned her.
Ranjana and the mother consoled themselves with the thought that at least she had started stepping out of the house. Perhaps in a few more days, everything would become normal and she would begin talking to everyone properly.
Suddenly, Arjun woke up with a start from his dream. In the dream, he had seen Shreya resting her head in his lap while he ran his fingers through her thick, dark curls. She was saying to him, "Why have you stopped chanting mantras? At least do it for me."
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