Transmigration to the 90's

Daily-life

Aadarsh's days had settled into a predictable routine. He would wake up early every morning, freshen up, and head straight to the puja ghar to offer prayers. It had become his favorite part of the day—a quiet, peaceful moment where he could gather his thoughts and express his hopes, even if he didn't quite know what he was hoping for anymore.

After the puja, he would make breakfast for everyone, preparing dishes that his husband, Randhir, and father-in-law, Ratan, seemed to enjoy. He had learned their preferences quickly—Randhir liked his tea strong, without too much sugar, while Ratan preferred a cup of masala chai with a hint of ginger. Packing their lunch was another part of the morning ritual, and he'd always make sure the meals were hearty and comforting, just as he had been taught.

Every morning, he would see them off. Randhir would head to his office, looking sharp and focused, with a brief nod as he took the lunch box Aadarsh handed him. Ratan would leave soon after, with a warm smile and a pat on Aadarsh's head, thanking him for the tea and wishing him a good day. Aadarsh always felt a small flutter of warmth when his father-in-law addressed him so kindly. It reminded him of how different this world was compared to his old one, where he'd never felt such acceptance or warmth from a family.

Once they left, the house would fall silent, and that's when the day began to stretch. Aadarsh would often laze around, read a book, or sometimes help Sunita with the house chores just to keep busy. Sunita would often scold him gently, telling him that he didn't need to do the work she was hired for, but Aadarsh liked the distraction.

In the evenings, he would start preparing dinner, waiting for the sound of the front door opening, signaling Randhir's return. Even if their interactions were minimal, there was something about seeing his husband return home that made Aadarsh's day feel complete. They'd have dinner together, with Ratan joining them, the conversation mostly revolving around mundane topics, the sounds of spoons clinking against plates filling the silence.

But when the night came, it became the most challenging part of the day for Aadarsh. Randhir had moved into his old bedroom, converting it into a study where he would sleep. Their marital life had been devoid of romance from the very beginning, and a month into their marriage, it was clear nothing had changed. They were like two strangers living under the same roof, bound by a relationship that neither had chosen nor seemed eager to nurture.

As Aadarsh lay on the bed alone, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder if this was how it would always be. He thought back to his own world, where he had longed for a family who would support him, a life where he could be himself. Here, he had found a kind father-in-law and a home that felt safe, yet there was still a hollow, aching emptiness inside him.

Randhir had been civil, polite even, but distant. There was no hostility, just indifference, and Aadarsh had begun to crave more than that. He didn't know if it was love he wanted, but at least acknowledgment—something more than just being another presence in the house. The days were fine;they were manageable. But the nights, when he was alone with his thoughts, were when the loneliness truly seeped in.

As the weeks passed, everything became routine, and Aadarsh found himself getting bored. The chores, the cooking, the prayers—none of it filled the void. He began to wonder what he could do to break the monotony, to find some purpose here. The life he had now was good, but he realized he wanted more than just comfort. He wanted to feel alive again, to find joy in this new world he was now a part of.

But how? That was the question he didn't yet have an answer to, Maybe he will find it soon. 

That evening, Aadarsh found himself in the living room, watching as his father-in-law, Mr. Ratan, spread out papers and ledgers across the table. The accounts of their textile factory were splayed out, and Ratan's face bore a slight frown of concentration. Aadarsh hesitated for a moment before approaching.