She waited.
It is a small word. It does not convey what twenty years of waiting actually does to a woman.
She bore Ahaana in the second year. Vihaan in the fourth. She breastfed each of them while standing because Kausalya did not like the dining chairs being used for what she called "private matters". She fried bondas for her father-in-law's evening tea every single day for fourteen years.
She stopped running at five in the morning. ("Indecent, kanna. The neighbours.") She stopped wearing the coral Kanjivaram. ("Too bright. Married woman.") She stopped putting jasmine in her hair. ("The maid sweeps it up. Extra work.")
By her thirty-second birthday, she weighed fifteen kilos more than at her wedding. By her thirty-eighth, twenty. Her cheeks, once described by Rudraksh as "two halves of a peach", had become soft and full and a little tired. Her thighs rubbed when she walked. She bought blouses in larger sizes and did not look at them when she paid for them.
She did not hate her body. She simply stopped noticing it. There is a difference. Hate requires attention. She had no attention left for herself.And then, one evening in her thirty-ninth year, came the conversation that she would remember as the moment she officially became invisible:
[ A family wedding. Aaranya is dressed in a navy silk. She has spent an hour getting ready. Rudraksh is on the phone in the corner. He hangs up. ]
AARANYA — "Rudra. How do I look?"
[ He glances at her. He is already walking toward the door. ]
RUDRAKSH — "Fine. You look fine. Come, we're late."
AARANYA — "Rudra. Look at me. Properly."
[ A pause. He looks. He registers her presence the way one registers furniture — with a kind of distracted approval. ]
RUDRAKSH — "Yes, Aara. You look nice. You always look nice. Now please. The driver is waiting."
[ She follows him to the car. In the car she catches her reflection in the side mirror and does not recognise the woman looking back. She does not say anything. She is very good, by now, at not saying anything. ]
Ahaana, growing up, watched. She did not say anything. But she watched.