The morning of the roka felt heavy, yet strangely alive. The house buzzed with activity from early morning. Jaya and Poonam decorated the doorway with marigold garlands, their hands moving quickly as they chatted in low voices. Pinki helped sweep the courtyard, while the younger children ran around excitedly, their laughter echoing through the small house. The smell of sweets frying in the kitchen filled the air, mixing with the fresh scent of flowers. The small clay stove crackled as Jaya carefully cooked, her mind racing with thoughts of the ceremony.

By afternoon, the preparations were nearly done, but Aasha's heart was still restless. She sat by the window, her heart beating fast, her hands cold and shaky as she smoothed the pleats of her saree for the tenth time. Fear and nervousness sat deep in her chest. But mixed with the nervousness was a small feeling of excitement. The thought of wearing new bangles, people gathering for her, and the first step into a new life made her feel both scared and curious.

The sound of car tires crunching on the dirt path made Aasha's heart jump. She peeked through the window, her fingers gripping the edge of the wooden frame. Dust rose in the air as some black jeep stopped outside their small gate. Her father, Rupesh, hurried to the door, wiping his hands on his kurta, while Jaya adjusted her pallu, quickly checking if everything looked right.

Devraj's family stepped out slowly, with few of their own people. His father walked with his hands behind his back, his eyes scanning the house without expression. His mother wore a heavy silk saree, gold jewelry shining on her neck and wrists.

Devraj followed behind them, his dark eyes sharp as he looked around. He wore a crisp white kurta, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His face was serious, almost cold, and he didn't smile or greet anyone. Aasha quickly moved away from the window, her heart pounding so loudly she thought everyone could hear it.

There was a quiet air of authority around them, the unspoken weight of being the groom's side. Devraj's mother barely acknowledging Jaya's folded hands, while his father settled onto the cot without a word. Devraj stood tall, his presence filling the room. Aasha's family moved carefully around them, offering water and sweets, and endless respect, with lowered eyes, their voices gentle, treating each gesture like a silent prayer for the day to go smoothly.

Rupesh hurriedly wiped the wooden chair kept for devraj with his gamcha and gestured toward the chair.

"Baitheye damad ji," he said, his voice trembling. "Safar m thak gye honge. "

Devraj didn't say anything. He just stepped forward and sat down, his tall frame making the chair seem smaller. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, eyes still scanning the room without a word.

Rupesh folded his hands again, his body bent slightly in respect.

"Safar theek se hua na?" he asked cautiously. "Koi takleef toh nahi hui?"

Devraj's father finally spoke.

"Gaon ka raasta kharab tha," he muttered, voice laced with irritation. "Gaadi ko dhool se bhar diya, par chaliye goan ki shadi h to ye sab to hoga hi"

Devraj's bua sniffed, shaking her head.

"Itna bada rista hai... kam se kam raaste pe mitti toh daal dete," she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rupesh nodded quickly, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Galti ho gayi, behenji... agli baar dhyan rakhenge," he said swallowing.

Devraj's bua shifted on the cot. She glanced at the mud walls, her nose wrinkling slightly. Her eyes trailed up to the ceiling, where a thin crack ran across the dried clay. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head just enough for everyone to notice.

"Yeh ghar toh bahut chhota hai," she whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Ladki ka saman rakhne ki jagah hogi bhi ya nahi?"

"Jo hai, so hai, jiji," Devraj's mother said, her voice smooth but laced with quiet mockery. "Sab apni kismat ka hi to khate hain. Jitna likha hoga, utna toh mil hi jayega, hai na?"

Jaya carefully set down a large steel tray filled with sweets and snacks — golden mathris, flaky kachoris, ladoos, and a pot of steaming chai. She adjusted her pallu and stepped back.

Devraj’s bua picked up a kachori, breaking it in half. The filling crumbled out dryly, and she sniffed it before taking a small bite.

"Aloo bilkul thanda hai... aur masala toh jaise bhool hi gaye," she said, placing the half-eaten piece back on the tray. "Aise pheeke khaane se mehmaan ki izzat hoti hai kya?"

Jaya’s face flushed. "Maaf kariyega, behen ji... shayad jaldi mein gadbad ho gayi," she stammered.

Devraj’s mother took a careful bite of the mathri, chewing slowly. She wiped her mouth with a small handkerchief, her smile barely hiding her disdain.

"Mathri toh kaafi sakht hai," she said, setting it back on the plate. "Aur ladoo mein boondi thodi zyada pak gayi lagti hai... lekin chaliye, niyat toh achhi hai."

Rupesh’s hands fidgeted with his gamcha as he bowed his head.

"Aasha ki maa abhi doosri kachori tal ke laati hain," he said quickly.

Bua ji laughed, shaking her head.

"Arre rehne do... itna bada rishta kiya hai, thodi si kami toh seh lenge," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Devraj’s father cleared his throat, placing his empty cup back on the tray with a loud clink. The room fell silent, the only sound the distant barking of a stray dog echoing through the village. He glanced at the old clock hanging crookedly on the wall, its ticking loud and slow.

"Samay ho raha hai," he said, "Roka ki rasam shuru karni hogi. Ladki ko bula lijiye."

"Ji... abhi bulate h," Rupesh whispered, signaling jaya to bring aasha outside.

Devraj’s bua leaned back on the cot.

"Dekhein toh sahi... ladki ka rang-roop kaisa hai," she muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Itna bada rishta hai... sab baatein dekhni toh padengi."

Jaya placed her hands gently on Aasha’s shoulders.

"Chal beta," she whispered, "Sab intezaar kar rahe hain." Jaya covered her face with the veil.

Aasha nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her heart pounded as she stood up.

The sunlight hit her face, making her skin glow under the sheer veil. She kept her eyes downcast, fingers clutching the edge of her saree tightly. The sound of her anklets filled the silence as she walked slowly, her bare feet brushing against the cool floor.

Devraj’s bua leaned forward, squinting as she examined Aasha like a jeweler inspecting gold.

"Chehra toh theek hai," she muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Kaali nahi hai ladki."

Jaya made Aasha to sit on a small wooden stool placed near Devraj.

Devraj didn’t move. His dark eyes, flicked briefly to Aasha before turning away again.

Aasha kept her gaze lowered. She could feel Devraj’s presence beside her.

The priest began the puja, chanting mantras as he lit a small oil lamp.

Rupesh carefully applied a red tilak on Devraj’s forehead, his fingers trembling as he prayed silently for his daughter's happiness.

"Bhagwan aap dono ki jodi banaye rakhe," he whispered.

Devraj accepted the tilak without a word. Aasha’s hands rested stiffly in her lap, her bangles clinking softly.

The exchange of gifts began next. Devraj’s mother handed Jaya a heavy silver plate piled with sarees, jewelry, and sweets.

"Yeh ladki ke liye hai," she said, her voice laced with quiet superiority. "Hamare ghar ki bahu ke layak honi chahiye har cheez."

Jaya accepted the plate with both hands, swallowing her nervousness. She placed a small bundle of homemade sweets, a modest gold chain, and a carefully wrapped gold ring on another tray — their humble offering looking almost insignificant next to the grandeur of Devraj’s family's gifts.

Devraj’s bua picked up the gold chain, turning it in her fingers with a raised eyebrow.

"Bas itna?" she asked, glancing at Jaya and Rupesh. "Itne bade ghar se rishta jod rahe ho... kam se kam thodi izzat ke layak diya hota."

Rupesh quickly folded his hands, shaking his head.

"Behen ji,vo samay kam tha to itna hi kar paye, shadi ke waqt sab kuch accha se karenge," he said, his voice filled with humility. "Rasam mein zyada nahi diya, par humari taraf se niyat saaf hai. Jo reh gaya, wo byaah ke din pura kar denge."

Bua ji nodded slowly but still dissatisfied.

"Dekho bhai, baat niyat ki nahi, izzat ki hoti hai," she said. "Zamindar ghar ke ladke ki shadi hai, to tyaari bhi ussi layak honi chahiye."

Devraj’s father cleared his throat, adjusting his shawl.

"Shaadi ke liye dhang se intazaam karna," he said, his voice firm and direct. "Gaon bhar ke log aayenge. Kisi cheez ki kami nahi honi chahiye."

Rupesh quickly nodded.

"Ji, ji... poori koshish karenge," he whispered.

Devraj’s mother said, glancing around the house.

"Humare Devraj ke layak sab kuch hona chahiye," she added, her smile sharp. "Ab rishta pakka ho gaya hai... ab ladki ko bhi tayyar karna padega."

The words lingered in the air, heavy with expectation.

As the guests finally stood to leave, Rupesh bowed low once again.

"Aap logon ki khushi ke liye jo ho sakega, karenge," he promised.

The black jeeps rumbled away, leaving the house quiet and heavy with the weight of the day’s events.

The first step had been taken — a small, irreversible step toward Aasha’s new life, where love had no promise, only duty and silent sacrifice.