Aasha. Was a young beautiful girl and always submissive. She was a classical dancer and had a dream of setting up a dance school and becoming a dance teacher. But her life was going to take a turn into tragedy because her father forced her into marriage. He doesn't respect her and hates her. When she thought what could be much worse her husband was shot right after he put a knot of marriage on her neck. The moment he became her husband she became his widow. Her husband was shot right on the altar while he was tying a knot to her. His blood spilled on her head as he fell down to her side. Horrified, she looked at the spilled blood and her husband. Panic grew among the public as they began to run away. When she looked forward unknowingly her eyes met with the murder. And he was looking at her as well. A smirk laid on his lips as he mouthed to her. "I'll get back to you".
View MoreThat alone was enough to bring tears of rage to my eyes. As I stepped down the staircase, I forced myself to really look at the house for the second time. The first time was right after he married me and dragged me here—when my vision was too clouded with tears to see anything. Now, I stood still
**One week.** Only one week has passed. Yet it felt like a lifetime, suspended in the choking fog of boredom and dread. Time dragged its limbs across the floor of this strange new home, echoing hollow and heavy with every breath I took. I refuse to lift a finger in this house—as if I’m some kind
Her eyes fell on the sacred thread around her neck—the nuptial chain. Her fragile fingers took it in hand as she examined it with longing eyes. This was the second time she was married, wasn't it? The irony? She was married to her dead husband's stepbrother. Both of them shared a common aim: dest
The room was dimlh lit with scented candles spreading fragrance. The balcony door still open with the flowing wind inside the intimate sounds from them echoed. Rose petals lay withered over the bed spread randomly now crippling under them. The white jasmine hung around the bed from the bed posts s
Asha’s POV**** Lifting my head, I saw him. Unlike me, wrapped in traditionals, he stood in a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into black pants. His hair was combed back, though a few strands had fallen forward, softening the sharpness of his features. He looked so composed, so unaffected, while my w
The women took over as they seated her on the chair as they began to smoke her hair woth dhoop. With her head bowed down she took a glance at him and looked away on finding him still standing there. After few seconds he left the place. Mean time they began to drape a white saree with a reddish go
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