It was close to midnight. The guest room on the fifth floor was crowded with anxious family members. Rajatava had just brought his younger brother home—completely drunk, barely conscious, lost in his own world.
The two brothers carried him to the bed, removed his shoes, and laid him down. He was still wearing his wedding attire—he hadn't even changed before storming out.
Rajatava unclasped his brother's watch, loosened his sherwani, and turned on the AC. But as he stepped back, his brother began mumbling in his sleep. Leaning in, Rajatava caught the same slurred, distressed words repeating over and over—
"I won't stay… I won't… I won't do this… I won't be with her… Get her out… Get her out of here…"
"They forced me… They forced me into this marriage… They all wronged me… I'll leave… I'll leave and never return… Never!"
Rajatava's eyes met his father's. His voice was firm but quiet.
"I told you all. You didn't listen. Now deal with it. This isn't going to be as easy as you thought."
Ganesh Babu exhaled sharply. "Where did you find him?"
"Where else?" Aditya scoffed. "At a bar. Just sitting there, drinking like a man with nothing to lose. He didn't even recognize us at first!"
Rina Devi's voice trembled as she turned to her elder brother-in-law. "Dada, what do we do now?"
"Did we make a mistake by forcing this marriage?" Sharmishtha Devi asked anxiously. "If he keeps behaving like this, our family's reputation will be ruined!"
"What if he takes a transfer just to avoid her? Then what?"
Mahesh Chatterjee, the family patriarch, listened silently before finally letting out a slow sigh.
"You're all overthinking. He ran away yesterday too, didn't he? But he still came back. Let him be. Give it time. I'll talk to him when he sobers up."
"But—"
"Enough. Let him sleep. And the rest of you—go to bed."
With that, the discussion ended. The family members left one by one, though worry still lingered in the air.
The wedding was grand. A spectacle for all to see.
But would the marriage survive?
---
The First Night at the Chatterjee House
Srirupa didn't sleep at all.
It wasn't just the unfamiliar surroundings; she had never been able to sleep without her own pillow, in her own space. But now, everything had changed.
Her new room was vast—almost overwhelming. Every corner was meticulously designed. A study area to one side, a seating arrangement near the balcony, an extravagant king-sized bed. The walls were adorned with elegant paintings, the furniture rich and polished.
She felt out of place, almost afraid to touch anything, reminding her of something she desperately wants to forget.
Her sister-in-law, Tanni, had stayed with her the previous night because she had admitted, in a small voice, that she was scared of being alone.
They had spent hours talking—about family, about the house, and inevitably, about Ritwick.
Now, morning had arrived. It was past 11 a.m., and Srirupa was preparing for the Bou Bhaat ceremony.
She wore a deep red Dhakai Jamdani saree, embroidered with delicate gold and multicolored threadwork. Light gold jewelry graced her ears and wrists, her long hair pinned into a neat bun. A bold red bindi adorned her forehead, the vermillion in her parting deep and fresh.
She looked breathtaking—like a goddess.
Meghna, Neelanjana's younger sister, watched in awe.
"Didivai, how do you do such flawless makeup? You have to teach me!" she gushed.
Srirupa laughed softly. "YouTube tutorials."
Meghna's eyes widened. "That's it? But you look like a professional did it! Will you do my makeup for the evening reception?"
"Of course. Come to my room. But there will be professional makeup artists too—I can ask them to help you."
"Are you two ready?" Neelanjana called from the doorway. "It's time to go downstairs."
Srirupa hesitated. "Do I look okay?"
Neelanjana stepped closer, adjusted the pleats of her saree, then gave her a nod of approval. Only then did Srirupa release the breath she had been holding.
With a reassuring smile, Neelanjana took her arm and led her downstairs.
The entire family was waiting.
---
The Bou Bhaat Ceremony
"Mahesh, tell me something—was there no suitable girl for your son in Kolkata? Why go so far?" The voice was sharp, laced with resentment, Doladevi, Mahesh Chatterjee's paternal cousin.
She had always been bitter, especially after failing to get her niece married into the Chatterjee family. She hadn't even attended the wedding but had conveniently shown up for the Bou Bhaat ceremony.
Mahesh Chatterjee, unfazed, replied evenly. "Didi, if fate decided that my son's in-laws would be far away, what can I do?"
Doladevi scoffed. "Fate? Or your stubbornness? Plenty of eligible girls here, yet you went all the way to Banaras?"
Her words hung in the air like a challenge.
Sharmishtha Devi had had enough. "Didi, Siliguri may seem like a 'small town' to you, but for us, it's home. And Banaras is a holy city, not some backward place."
"We chose educated, cultured daughters-in-law. If you judge by your so-called standards, our choices still surpass what you had in mind."
Doladevi's face twisted. "Oh really? And what about my niece? Was she not good enough?"
Sharmishtha's smile was razor-sharp. "If we were to discuss what your niece does in the name of 'modeling,' I doubt it would be a pleasant conversation."
"And before pointing fingers at my sons, maybe you should check on yours. One is permanently at his in-laws' house, and the other keeps running back home!"
Doladevi's nostrils flared. "Boudi, you—!"
"The truth stings, doesn't it?" Rina Devi smirked. "You're a guest here. Enjoy the food, celebrate, and leave. There's no need to meddle in our family's affairs."
Doladevi opened her mouth, ready to argue—
"Oh, look! The boudis are here!" Aditya interjected loudly, cutting through the tension.
Everyone turned to the entrance.
Neelanjana stepped in first. And beside her, the new bride.
A hush fell over the room.
For the first time, all eyes were truly on Srirupa.
And the 'Vat kapor' ceremony began.