It was 8:30 in the evening when Sneha called everyone for dinner. One by one, the family gathered in the hall. Her mother-in-law, Ramila, began serving food. The atmosphere was calm and filled with light chatter.
As Ramila placed food on the plates, she asked gently, “So, Sneha, are you going to your parents’ house tomorrow?”
Sneha replied softly, “Yes, Maaji. I was thinking of taking Samay with me as well.”
At that very moment, her husband, Samay, who was about to put a bite of rice and lentils into his mouth, froze. Suddenly, in a fit of rage, he slammed his hand onto the plate and hurled it against the wall. The food flew across the room and splattered onto Sandhya, his sister, who sat nearby. Shocked, she stayed silent. The entire room fell still—everyone feared Samay’s temper.
His eyes blazed red as he glared at his mother. “Didn’t I tell you I never wanted to marry? Still, you ignored me and forced this on me!” he shouted, before rambling angrily.
Sneha sat quietly. She had seen this side of him too many times. Without a word, she forced herself to eat, swallowing her tears with each bite.
After dinner, while washing dishes, her mind echoed with pain. What is my fault? she thought. My husband never speaks kindly, never respects me, never lets me go out or meet anyone. I am educated, yet I live worse than a servant in this house.
She recalled the nights when Samay would wake her abruptly, pinching her in anger and yelling, “Leave! Don’t sleep here beside me!” Though sometimes he showed affection, his toxic behavior had broken her spirit.
As Sneha looked out of the kitchen window, she saw birds flying across the sky. Tears filled her eyes. I, too, want to fly like them. But my wings have been cut. She sighed deeply, finished her chores, and went to her mother-in-law’s room.
“Maaji, tomorrow morning I’ll go to my parents’ house,” she said firmly.
Ramila looked at her for a moment and simply nodded.
That night, Sneha packed her belongings. At dawn, she stepped out of her marital home, determined never to return.
Crossing the threshold, she felt a strange peace. Whatever comes, I’ll face it. From now on, I will live freely—on my own terms.
