The 'New-Bride'

She was summoned.
Summoned for what? She did not know.. Perhaps after so long a month was her husband coming back to the village, to meet her finally.
She was just in her early twenties, gorgeous, fair, brown eyes, rosy lips; and newly married.. for about four months. I bet her husband must have missed her a lot while staying so away from her, at Delhi, to earn some bread to feed the soon-to-be-starting family.

She blushed as she remembered the day they got married, dipped into the red bridal veil, with jewellery all adorning her already beautiful body, she looked like an angel, as divine as ever.
Yes! Her husband was, perhaps, back finally.. as he had promised to her.. he would be back no matter what.. to love her again, take her in his arms and together they would dream of a future so romantic with only he and her, and later on, a kid of theirs.
Her rosy cheeks blushed once again.

"Suman, leave your thoughts alone!"

But who would listen, even when calls from elders come. Weaving dreams in air is the favourite thing you do when you are new to the wedlock.
"Finally!" She sighed.. "He comes back, as he promised...!"
She adorned herself with jewellery, golden and colourful bindi, kajal in her dark eyes, lipstick so red, big red bangles. He would once again fall in love with his wife...

Coyly, she managed to come out of her dreams to meet her husband.
He really had come back to his village in Rajasthan...
But covered in white sheet with red, family members who had waited so excitedly since the past week for his arrival were now mourning over it, all clad in white- white sarees, white kurta, and as a ceremonal process, she was summoned.

She sat down, still not able to understand what was happening, as she pulled away the cover to see a sleeping face of her husband, covered by a sheet of blood-red.

"He had gone to dose forever... He had met with an accident, Suman." The elder woman told heer.

She wasn't even able to recover from the shock when she was suddenly asked to sit in front of her husband's dead body.
The vermillion was washed away, the kajal smudged, lipstick removed, bangles were all broken, none caring for the blood that oozed out of her hand- she was no longer a 'newly wed' for them, rather a widow, who to them didn't deserve any respect.
Why would she? Her husband was on longer there to support her, and thus she would become a burden for them. A burden till she survived. Who would pay for her bread forever?

In front of all audience, there was this show, her attire snatched from her, asked to remain colourless for life, to wear white mourning over the loss forever.
She didn't deserve tasty food, the new bride was now a widow.

She realised the pain her life would be from now on, as the yellow flames set ablaze burnt the body of someone who could save her from this catastrophic life she would have to lead. Death was easier, she felt, as she readily threw herself into the funeral pyre of her husband, freeing herself from all she had to suffer.


Such is the horrific situation in our country...