The Rathore's Family

Broken Home

Tej sat in the hall with his friends, their conversation a mix of random topics and light laughter. His presence commanded attention, his voice carrying the usual air of authority.

Drishti entered quietly, carrying a tray of water glasses. She approached the table and placed the tray down.

Tej glanced at her and, in an authoritative tone that felt more like an order, said, “Give it to them in their hands.”

Drishti nodded without a word and began handing the glasses to each guest, following it up with a plate of sweets. She moved gracefully, her demeanor calm despite the weight of his tone.

As she stepped back after completing her task, one of the men turned to Tej and asked, “Who is she?”

Tej’s response came without hesitation, his voice steady. “She’s a maid.”

The man nodded casually, saying, “Oh, I see.”

Drishti froze momentarily, the words hitting her like a sharp sting. Though her steps didn’t falter outwardly, her heart clenched at the remark.

How could he? she thought, her mind racing. I thought he was a good person, someone who always spoke to me kindly. But is this who he really is?

Her eyes stung, but she blinked away the tears. Without looking back, she left the room, her mind clouded with confusion and disappointment.

Seeing the faint shadow of distress on Drishti’s face, Riddhima approached her with concern.

“Kya hua, baccha?” she asked softly, her voice full of warmth and care.

Drishti paused, her thoughts waging a silent battle. She wanted to tell Riddhima everything, to let out the sting of the words she had just heard, but she hesitated. It’ll only create unnecessary tension, she reasoned with herself.So instead, she forced a smile.

………..

It was evening, and Tej’s friends were preparing to leave. As they exchanged pleasantries and stepped toward the door, one of the men lingered, turning to Drishti.

He approached her with a casual smile, pulling a five-hundred-rupee note from his pocket. “As a maid, you’ve done a lot for us,” he said, extending the note toward her.

Drishti froze, her eyes widening in disbelief and humiliation. She didn’t know how to react, her hands instinctively clenching at her sides. Her gaze darted toward Anjali, seeking some semblance of support.

Anjali noticed immediately and stepped forward, placing herself between Drishti and the man. “She’s not—” she began, her voice firm but faltering under the weight of her rising anger.

But before she could finish, Tej cut her off with a loud, mocking laugh. “Ah, these women of the house,” he said, shaking his head. “Whoever stays with them for a while, they start thinking of them as family.”

His words were sharp, almost biting, and his gaze turned to Anjali, dark and threatening. With a subtle yet menacing gesture, he ordered her to step away from Drishti.

But Anjali didn’t move. She stood her ground. Her silence spoke volumes; her refusal to comply was a quiet act of rebellion against Tej’s cruelty.

Deepa, who had been observing the scene from afar, couldn’t hold back any longer. She stormed forward with fiery determination, her voice sharp and unwavering.

“Aapko zaroor koi galti hui hogi,” she said, her eyes blazing as she looked directly at the man. “She is the daughter-in-law of this house. And whoever told you that she is a maid must have a problem with their vision."