Exploring Love...the shade of PINK

Innocent Pink -Part 6

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As the wedding rituals drew to a close, the echoes of dhol and shehnai faded behind Chavi's vidai. The youngest daughter of the house had stepped into her new life, emotional yet hopeful, while Raghav stood still—eyes dim, face unreadable. With a curt nod to everyone, he left soon after for the city to attend an urgent business meeting with the Makhijas. Dev, too, had to depart unexpectedly, summoned to their ancestral village to handle a brewing land conflict.

Back at the haveli, the grand celebration felt like a distant memory.

Maasa took the reins of the household once again—with iron fists and burning fury. Her eyes, still red from unspoken disappointment, now locked onto Vrinda. The moment Dev stepped out of the house, Maasa's venom found its path.

She dismissed every worker appointed by Raghav to clean and pack the wedding leftovers. "Beggar's daughter thinks she'll live in comfort?" she spat, glaring at Vrinda. "Today, you'll earn your stay."

Without a word, Vrinda nodded. Her eyes lowered in respect, not fear.

From morning till evening, she swept and mopped the entire haveli—one that once hosted 300 guests now lay empty, but the mess lingered. She washed utensils, sorted left-behind gifts, even climbed ladders to remove the garlands hanging from the ceilings. The sun beat down harshly, but she never paused.

Neighbors passing by noticed. Some looked on with pity, others with whispered criticism. A few tried intervening. "Bhabhi, badi bahu hai ghar ki, kyun aise kar rahi ho?" one aunty asked gently.

But Maasa snapped, "Yeh to chalak hai! Apne patidev ke kaan bhar rahi thi, bol rahi thi ki main uske saath bura bartav karti hoon. Ab bhugto!"

And just like that, sympathy turned to suspicion. A few women murmured, "Chehra to masoom hai... par andar se pata nahi kya nikli."

Vrinda heard everything. Every word stabbed deep, but she said nothing. She carried on.

By evening, her limbs trembled with exhaustion. But Maasa wasn't done.

"Kapde bhi dho. Saare. Ghar ke, mehmaanon ke, safai waale kapde bhi," she ordered with a wicked smirk.

Vrinda's throat was parched. She hadn't eaten properly in two days, only drank half a glass of buttermilk. Still, she obeyed.

By midnight, she finished. Every cloth was hung. Every inch scrubbed.

She stumbled back into her room, muscles aching, clothes soaked, head spinning. The moment she lay down, her body gave up.

Next morning, Maasa waited for her with a list of fresh orders. When Vrinda hadn't emerged till 10 AM, something shifted. A flicker of worry crept in. She walked into the room and froze.

Vrinda was burning with fever, lips pale, breath shallow. Unconscious.

A rare shiver ran down Maasa's spine.

She called Dev, her voice unusually strained.

Within an hour, Dev stormed into the haveli with his childhood friend, Dr. Anand. He ran to the room, kneeling beside Vrinda. "Vrinda?!" he whispered, but she didn't stir.

Dr. Anand quickly examined her. "She's severely dehydrated, weak, and mentally exhausted. The fever is from overexertion. What happened here?"

Dev's eyes sharpened. "There were workers... Raghav paid them. Why did she have to do everything?"

Maasa, cornered, muttered, "Woh... mazdoor paise zyada maang rahe the. Vrinda ne kaha, main kar lungi."

Dev's eyes blazed. "She hadn't eaten. Didn't even rest. You made her wash clothes at midnight? Yeh koi naukrani hai?"