"Tripti, you know what that means?", he asks in a deep voice, the type of voice which makes your legs go jelly. Not from anticipation but from fear. I was still trembling under him. "It means satisfaction, and You, my darling, are going to provide m...
Before I could react he grabs the phone off my hand and leaves.
".... Be ready by seven", I hear him say.
I'll go crazy at this rate. I can't just sit here and do nothing.
Think Tripti think, how can I run without getting in trouble...
It was seven, and I had dressed myself in the lehenga he had kept.
Why are they all having so deep neck? I shrug the thought away and sit on the bed.
He arrives soon after and escorts me to the place.
Why is he spending so much on a lost cause.
There's no one except the mehndi artists and a photographer.
I wasn't even given a second to think of running before he tied me to the chair with my hands pinned on each side.
"Don't forget to write my name on her hand", he says to the girl and she nods in fear.
"OH JUST UNLOCK THIS AND YOU'LL SEE-!", I shout at him.
" I'll... As soon as the work is done", with that he starts leaving.
" HEY! YOU!", I call him out.
He turns around and I continue, "You have to write my name as well!" I state.
He smirks and comes closer, " Is that what you want? "
"No, it's the ritual", I say while staring at my henna clad hands.
"Fine", I hear him and then he adds, "write her name here", he says to the artist.
I watch him get mehndi on his palm with my name written on it in bold letters. I gulp.
Maybe I shouldn't have said that.
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The henna art was beautiful, I almost felt guilty for doing what I did the moment I was untied. I scrapped the name of my hand, but even after washing my hands with soap, detergent, shampoo I couldn't get rid of his name.
That night I had a sleepless night. I wanted to call ma, she would be waiting for my call. I hadn't talked to Navya, she must be missing me...
So I'm get up from my bed and start banging my door.
