Jaya was sitting on the charpai, carefully peeling vegetables while Poonam and Pinki helped her. Aasha was inside, braiding Bobi's hair as he squirmed, wanting to run off and play.

Just then, a loud knock echoed through the house. Pappan ran to open the door, his bare feet pattering against the mud floor.

"Arre, Ghanshyam kaka!" Pappan exclaimed, stepping aside to let the matchmaker in.

Ghanshyam walked in, wiping sweat from his forehead with a white gamcha. His eyes sparkled with excitement.

Jaya stood up "Aaiye, Ghanshyam ji, Kya baat hai?" she asked, her voice laced with worry and hope.

Ghanshyam grinned, his teeth slightly crooked but his smile genuine. "Badhai ho, Jaya behen! Ladke ke gharwale ne haan kar di hai!" he announced, his voice booming with joy.

Jaya's hands trembled, and she pressed her palms together, her heart pounding. "Sach?" she whispered, her eyes welling up.

Sach!" Ghanshyam nodded, beaming. "Unhone Aasha ko pasand kar liya. Shadi ki baat pakki samjho."

Rupesh, who had been resting inside, rushed out upon hearing the news. "Shukar hai Bhagwan ka," he muttered, his voice cracking. He folded his hands and looked up at the sky, silently thanking the gods.

Jaya's heart swelled with relief and fear at the same time. She folded her hands in gratitude toward Ghanshyam. "Bhagwan aapko khush rakhein, Ghanshyam ji. Aapne itni badi khushkhabri di."

Ghanshyam chuckled, settling onto the charpai with a heavy sigh. "Arey, ye toh mera farz hai, behen. Aapke ghar ki ladki ke liye itna achha rishta mila hai - Devraj ji ke ghar se rista aana kismat ki baat hai."

Jaya and Rupesh exchanged a glance, their faces shadowed with the weight of what that meant.

Ghanshyam cleared his throat, lowering his voice. "Waise, ladke ke ghar se roke ki tareekh nikal aayi hai."

Jaya sat down beside him. "Kab ki tareekh nikali hai, Ghanshyam ji?" she asked cautiously.

"Agle mahine ki panchmi," Ghanshyam said, rubbing his knees. "Unki mataji ne kaha hai ki mahurat bahut shubh hai."

"Panchmi?" Rupesh's voice wavered. "Itni jaldi?"

"Jaldi hi toh acchi baat hai," Ghanshyam reasoned. "Baaki sab shadi ki baat tab dekhi jayegi, pehle roka toh ho jaye." He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. "Waise... ladke ke ghar se pucha tha ki dahej ki tayari ho gayi hai ya nahi?"

Jaya's breath caught in her throat. She looked at Rupesh, whose face had turned pale.

Rupesh swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "Hum... hum koshish karenge, Ghanshyam ji," he whispered, his voice hollow.

"Accha hai, Rupesh bhai," Ghanshyam said, patting his shoulder. "Ladki ki zindagi ki baat hai, thodi bahut mehnat toh karni padegi, or vese bhi kisi paraye ghar m thodi de rhe h kuch sab kuch apki beti ka hi hoga kal ko ja k."

Jaya looked toward the small, dimly lit room where Aasha sat, still giggling as she braided Bobi’s hair. The innocence on her daughter’s face made Jaya’s chest ache.

“Humari beti ka bhala ho bas,” Jaya whispered, her voice trembling. “Jo bhi karna pade, hum karenge.”

Rupesh placed his hand on her shoulder, his eyes heavy with the weight of their reality. “Bhagwan sab theek karenge,” he murmured, though the doubt in his voice lingered like a shadow.

Ghanshyam stood, straightening his kurta with a satisfied nod. “Main kal phir aunga, baaki baatein tai karne ke liye,” he said, adjusting his gamcha. “Aap log bas mann banaiye, ab Aasha bitiya ki nayi zindagi shuru hone wali hai.”

As he left, Poonam and Pinki peered from the doorway, their wide eyes flickering with curiosity. Jaya wiped her face and forced a shaky smile. “Chalo, kaam karo,” she said softly, her voice lacking its usual warmth.

Inside, Aasha laughed as Bobi finally wriggled free, running out to join Manu and Pappan in the courtyard. The sound of their laughter echoed through the small house, but to Jaya and Rupesh, it felt distant — like a fleeting memory of a childhood already slipping away.

Because no matter how much they prepared, she knew that after the roka, Aasha’s life would no longer be in their hands.

         ---------------------------------------------

The night had fallen, and the dim glow of a flickering diya cast long shadows on the mud walls of their small home. The children had fallen asleep, huddled together on a thin mattress, their breaths steady and peaceful. But in the corner of the room, Jaya and Rupesh sat cross-legged on the floor, their faces etched with worry.

Jaya said "dahej ka intezam kaise hoga?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her fingers trembling. “Humare paas toh kuch bhi nahi hai.”

Rupesh rubbed his face with rough hands, his shoulders slumped. “Main soch raha tha... kheti ki zameen girvi rakh dete hain,” he muttered, staring at the floor. “Thodi si toh mil jayegi paise ki rashi.”

Jaya flinched, her heart pounding. “Par zameen ke bina hum guzara kaise karenge? Bacchon ko kya khilayenge?”

Rupesh’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Aasha ki shaadi ho gayi toh kam se kam ek bojh toh halka hoga,” he whispered, the words slicing through the air like a blade.

Jaya wiped her eyes with the edge of her saree, her chest tightening. “Main apne purane gehne bech dungi,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Mere shaadi ke kangan... wo purani jhumkiyaan... sab naya banwa lenge Aasha ke liye.”

Rupesh looked up, his eyes glistening. “Par wo toh tumhari maa ke diye the na?”

“Ab meri beti ki izzat unse zyada zaroori hai,” Jaya said, her voice firm despite the pain in her heart. “Kam se kam sasural jaate waqt sar utha ke jaayegi, bina sharam ke.”

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the decision pressing down on them like a mountain.

“Main Charan se baat karunga,” Rupesh said finally, though doubt clouded his voice. “Shayad kuch madad mil jaye.”

Jaya stiffened. “Charan bhaiya madad kar bhi de toh kya uski patni maanegi? Wo toh kabhi nahi chaahti ki humse rishta banaye rakhein.”

Rupesh sighed heavily. “Pata nahi... par koshish toh karni padegi. Aasha ke liye.”

Jaya looked around their small home — at the steel bartan she had carefully collected over the years, the old trunk filled with patchy quilts, the clay pots lined up neatly in the corner. Everything felt small, insignificant, against the towering demands of dowry.

“Jo kuch hai, sab de denge,” Jaya whispered, clutching her chest. “Par meri beti ki zindagi bas achhi ho jaye, Bhagwan se bas yehi prarthana hai.”

Rupesh placed his hand over hers, his grip tight but gentle. They didn’t need words in that moment — just the quiet understanding of two parents willing to break themselves apart to piece together a future for their daughter.

              -----------------------------------

She lay with her back to the thin curtain that separated her from her parents, her eyes open, staring into the darkness. The muffled hum of her mother’s voice seeped through the fabric, each word landing like a stone in her chest.

Aasha clutched the edge of her blanket, her fingers twisting the worn fabric. She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound — only the slow rise and fall of her breath betrayed that she was still awake.

And when a single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, she let it fall silently, sinking into the pillow beneath her head.

          ------------------------------------------

Outside, the wind rustled through the neem tree, the world silent as if it, too, was mourning the price of marriage.