Author's POV

"Dasi banja humare bete ki." Sadhna stated.

(Become my son's slave.)

"Memsahib..." Nayan was taken aback by her proposition.

"Izzat se banayenge hum tujhe humare bete ka gulam. Shaadi karwayenge usse. Banegi?"

(I will make you my son's slave with respect. I will get him married to you. Will you?)

"Aap kya khe rahin hain, Memsahib..." She was startled.

(What are you saying, Ma'am...)

"Thik se soch le ladki. Mandir ke bhavishiya tere haathon me hain ab. Tu shaadi karle humare khandan ka naam jud jayega mandir se or isse kabhi mandir par aanch nhi ayegi."

(Think carefully, girl. The future of the temple is in your hands now. If you marry into our family, the temple's name will be associated with our family, and it will never face any harm.)

"Hum...humein pata nhi hum kya...hum kya bole aapse." She stuttered.

(I...I don't know what...what to say to you.)

"Sochle ladki. Humare ghar ki bahu banna koi aisi vaisi baat hai nhi. Roz nhi milenge aise maukein."

(Think about it, girl. Becoming the daughter-in-law of our house is no small matter. Such opportunities do not come every day.)

"Memsahib, mai ek choti si gharane ki ladki...kaise aapke ghar ki bahu ban sakti hoon?"

(Ma'am, I am a girl from a small family...how can I become the daughter-in-law of your household?)

"Tere to bahut kwaishein hain! Dasi bana rahe hain tujhe. Bahu to bas naam ki."

(You have many desires! We are making you a servant. Being a daughter-in-law is just in name.)

Nayan remained silent as tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.

"Itni der se tere akal me baat ghusi nhi kya? Dekhle, mandir bachane ki yehi upai hai. Agar mere bete ko khush rakh pai, mandir surakhshit rahega nhi to bhool ja ki kabhi yahan mandir hua bhi karta tha."

(Have you not understood what I have been saying all this time? Look, this is the only way to save the temple. If you can keep my son happy, the temple will be safe, otherwise, forget that there was ever a temple here.)

"Aisa na kahein Memsahib! Ye mandir mera sab kuch hain! Mai ise khona nhi chahti hoon!" She cried.

(Don't say that, Ma'am! This temple is everything to me! I don't want to lose it!)

"To aaja humare paas. Hum to tujhe izzat se leke jayenge bol rahe hain. Phir bhi tujhe nautanki karni hai."

(Then come to us. We are saying we will take you with respect. Still, you want to make a fuss.)

"Nhi nhi Memsahib. Aapki vachan hi antim hain."

(No, no, Ma'am. Your words are final.)

'Badhiyan! Chal tere baap ko khush khabar detein hain."

(Excellent! Let's go give your father the good news.)

As Sadhna started leaving the chamber, Nayan followed her behind. She somehow managed to not let the tears cascade her eyes.

Nayan's POV

I have to do this for Mahadev, for his devotees, for my father, for the temple. I should've anticipated that nothing comes without a price. I should feel fortunate that Mahadev has chosen me for this sacrifice to uphold the faith of his devotees. And what's the significance of marriage anyway?

You'll be a servant, not a wife. My subconscious mocked me.

But saving the temple from these ruthless loan sharks is my sole objective now. My entire being is dedicated to the temple. Mahakal is compassionate, benevolent, and kind towards all his devotees. He readily grants boons and blessings to those who approach him with sincerity and devotion. I am one hundred and ten percent sure that if he wants me to marry into the Thakur household, there's a reason behind it. So, if this is the ultimate way to save the temple, then so be it. I have faith in my Shivji and Mata Parvati. I'm certain that everything is happening for a reason, a reason unknown to me but has been troubling me since I met Memsahib today.

Earlier, whenever she visited the temple, which was rare, I only caught a glimpse of her. We never had a formal interaction until today because my father was against it. I guess today was the day our fate was destined to change, hence our meeting.

I know my father will be furious with my decision, but he has to understand that this is necessary. Besides, marrying into a respected, powerful family is not only beneficial for the temple but also for me. What could possibly go wrong?

Really? You don't find this unsettling? My subconscious mocked me for the second time.

Soon, I found myself standing at the entrance of Mahadev's sanctum. It seemed like Memsahib had already proposed the idea to my father. His face displayed shock and fear, and when he noticed me, his gaze turned furious. I lowered my eyes but observed the scene unfolding in front of me from the corner of my eye. He redirected his gaze towards Memsahib as she continued speaking. I couldn't hear her words, but my father nodded, tension still evident on his face.

After some time, Memsahib left, and my father bid her farewell with another namaste. As the troop of SPGs departed, the temple returned to its tranquility, and the atmosphere lightened. I sensed my father marching towards me.

"Kya kar diya tumne, Nayan!?" He demanded, his voice filled with anger and pain.

(What have you done, Nayan!?)

"Baba, mandir bachani zaroori hai," I replied, my gaze still on the floor. All this while, my heart was thumping so loud like never before.

(Baba, saving the temple is necessary)

"Mandir ke liye khud ko samarpan karna zaroori hai? Apne aap ko bech rahi ho, Nayan!" he literally yelled, his voice stern but lightly shaky.

(Are you sacrificing yourself for the temple? Are you selling yourself, Nayan?)

"Biyah karke le jayenge bole hain, baba," I tried to reason out in an attempt to convince him.

(She said they'll take me after marriage, baba.)

"Uss ghar ki bahu banogi? Unke bete, Yashvardhan Thakur ka charitra kaisa hai pata hai tumhe? Unki pehle bhi shaadi hui thi pata hai tumhe?" He bombarded me with questions, each one revealing a little more about my prospective husband and hinting at something amiss in the family.

(You want to be the daughter-in-law of that household? Do you know about their son, Yashvardhan Thakur's character? Are you aware that he has been married before?)

"Baba, humein nahi pata unke bare mein jyada. Parantu humein ye zaroori maloom hai ki agar hum ye shaadi kar lenge to mandir hamesha ke liye bach jayega aur yahi humara asha hai," I declared.

(Father, I don't know much about him. But I do know that if I marry him, the temple will be saved forever, and that's what I want.)

"Parantu, tumhara kya hoga, Nayan? Isiliye hum tumhein Sadhan Thakur ke samne aane nahi dena chahte thein." He whined, his forehead creasing with worry lines.

(But what about you, Nayan? That's why I didn't want you to come before Sadhna Thakur.)

"Humara kya hoga, baba? Mahadev hai na!" I replied faking confidence.

(What will happen to me, father? Mahadev is there!)

"Beta," He heaved as he continued after some seconds, "hum ab bhi sehmat nahi hain. Jo thik lage karo lekin agar kabhi bhi nirnay badalne ki thaan liya tumne to turant humare paas ajana. Hum sab thik kar denge," he stated.

(Daughter, I'm still now okay with it. Do what seems right, but if you ever decide to change your mind, come to us immediately. We will set everything right)

I smiled at him.

"Baba, agar Mahadev ka yahi ichha hai to kuch accha hi hoga," I explained, to which he nodded and patted my head before leaving.

(Father, if this is Mahadev's will, then something good will come of it.)

As soon as he left, I rushed towards my home, situated at the outskirts of the temple. Entering my room, I locked myself in. The tears I had held back for so long cascaded down my cheeks. I had resolved never to marry. I wanted to dedicate my entire life to Mahadev, just as Mirabai did for Shri Krishna. But destiny had other plans for me. I was to marry into a family that was dangerous and very peculiar.

Govardhan Thakur, our former chief minister, was found dead at his home office in a pool of blood. In response, his wife, Sadhna Thakur, swiftly replaced him with another party leader. Many people accuse her of his death. She was accused of causing the death of her son's first wife too. The woman supposedly died in a bathtub at their mansion itself, just like Govardhan Thakur, with many claiming it was a suicide and no cause was found. The case closed forever pretty soon.

Yashvardhan Thakur, her son, is another unpleasant character. Known to indulge in relationships with women every day, he's said to have deeply loved his first wife. However, after her suicide, he became this way. But which loving husband would entertain other women in his bed after his wife's tragic death? Everyone in the family seemed peculiar and unsettling.

The reality of entering the peculiar Thakur family was about to become a stark truth in just a few days. But would that man, Yashvardhan Thakur, agree to marry me?

His wife had passed away just seven months ago, yet he seemed to have no qualms about entertaining multiple women in his bed. So, marriage wouldn't be a big deal for him, I guess. He would likely remain indifferent, but my life would take a complete turn.

Oh, Mahadev! I couldn't even expect loyalty from this man-whore who would soon be my husband. Loyalty was out of the question; I would most likely be forced by him. Yes, I wouldn't be a wife but his slave. That would be my reality.

Somehow, I managed to lift myself from the floor, where I had been lying dorsally, shedding silent tears, to proceed with the day's chores. However, the thought of marrying a dangerous man like Yashvardhan Thakur never left my mind for a moment.

During lunch, my father informed me that the wedding would take place next week, just five days from today. I wondered why Memsahib was hurrying the marriage. But ultimately, my father would be escaping the threats of the loan sharks in five days, so that sounded better. Plus, she had also decided to pay off the loan, so I should be grateful to her rather than suspicious of her. Overthinking wouldn't help. Ultimately, I had to face whatever the family had in store for me.

The day passed like this, until the sunset, and I performed the evening aarti for my deity. Despite the passing hours, my thoughts lingered. However, I managed to put on a smile for the sake of my dad.

Tomorrow, the preparations for my 'fortunate' wedding will begin, sadly.

Author's POV

It was midnight, and Sadhna Thakur, draped in a voluminous black gown, glided toward the innermost room of her chamber. This room, a testament to her sinister intentions and cruel reality, awaited her dark ritual.

In the centre lay a crosshatch, intricately designed with dried animal blood, emanating a foul stench that hung heavy in the air. Sadhna knelt beside it, inhaling deeply, savouring the putrid odour. A crooked smile spread across her face, a twisted expression of contentment. But was this peace she sought? Or was it the calm before a storm, one she had meticulously crafted to wreak havoc on those she loathed?

With deliberate slowness, she extended her wrinkled arms toward a brightly burning candle, placing it precisely at the heart of the crosshatch. Sprinkling a pinch of herb powder onto the flame, she watched as the dried blood began to shift hues, morphing from red to dark blue, then to an ominous black.

"Hahahahahaha."

Her malevolent laughter resonated through the chamber, her head thrown back, arms wide open, as if welcoming the dark forces, she had summoned. Suddenly, a violent thunderstorm erupted outside, a testament to her unleashed power. Her eyes glowed with a fiery reddish-yellow, resembling the flames of hell itself, as she straightened her head.

The room seemed to pulse with dark energy, the air thick with anticipation. Sadhna Thakur's ritual had commenced, and with it, the promise of chaos and destruction for those unfortunate enough to be caught in her web of hatred.

Her voice dripped with malevolence as she hissed.

"So, it begins."

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