RELUCTANT MARRIAGE UNDENIABLE LOVE

Mira's POV

When my alarm went off, I jumped out of bed immediately. I was aware that my mother would be furious with me if I was even a single minute late. Since it was six in the morning, I had to get everything done as soon as possible so that I could prepare breakfast for the family. To complete my morning routine as quickly as possible, I snatched up my towel and hurried to the restroom.

Mira Raghav is who I am. I'm 23 years old, have completed my education, and attended college for two years. I attended Mumbai's local college. Not to explore my dreams, but simply to avoid interfering with my parents' lives. I only learned a handful of things that I didn't want to know. "A bad omen like you doesn't need to study just to work as a maid," my parents would always say when I aspired to become a doctor to save lives.

My parents pulled me out of college in my sophomore year when I arrived home late twice in a row due to a project. They continued hitting me and accusing me of whoring when I tried to tell them. I put an end to all of my dreams, including becoming a doctor, after that day.

Everyone is probably asking themselves, "Why do my parents abuse me?" The answer to that is, well, I'm not even sure. They simply treat me badly and mistreat me for every small error I make. However, my younger brother receives all of the attention that a child longs for. I'm not even permitted to address them as "dad" or "mom." I get up every day with the hope that things will change, but that optimism is invariably dashed at the end of the day. However, I am content with my existence as long as I have a place to live and food. I don't always understand that. Sometimes, due to trivial errors, I have to starve myself. I simply long for a little affection from my parents, but I never receive any in the end. Nevertheless, I harbor a small hope that I will eventually receive some affection and respect.

After taking a shower, I changed into a simple red churidar and a yellow dupatta. I applied chapstick and moisturizer to my face. I formally got ready for the day by leaving my hair down. I'm not a fan of cosmetics or overdoing it.

As usual, I prayed for a good day for everyone. Then, realizing that time was running out, I hurried to the kitchen below.

• • • •

I walked to the kitchen and began preparing the chai and kneading the paratha dough. My mom came into the kitchen and yelled, "Why aren't you done cooking yet?" Well, this is Swetha Raghav, my mother. She despises me and would stop at nothing to get rid of me.

I was terrified when I glanced up at her. Her loud voice usually made me feel shy. "I'm asking you something!" she said. I was a stuttering mess. "I..I..." How am I going to let her know that she's early today? "You...you got up earlier than...normal, so..." She struck me across the face before I could finish. Although it hurt a lot, I'm used to it. She screamed, "How dare you talk back to me!?"

I was unable to respond. I'd get spanked again if I did. "I'm so sorry; I'll finish up quickly." "You be" My younger brother Rohan Raghav interrupted her. For those that know him, he's called Ro. "Mom is breakfast ready? I have to go to college." Rohan said. "Good morning sweetie. This peasant is almost done. Now get lost and finish. My baby needs to leave." My mom remarked.

I hurried to the kitchen and got to work preparing food. Everyone may be asking why the wealthy Raghav family doesn't have maids in their home. We do, of course, but their purpose is to tidy everyone's room-aside from mine, of course. My parents don't like me handling their belongings, which is why. When I go grocery shopping, I am not permitted to speak to the maids or anybody else.

The servants do express sympathy, but there is nothing I can do about it. However, I have to cook everything and clean the rest of the house. I don't hate cooking for them because I truly enjoy it, but it stings when they don't value my efforts and only consider me to be one of the maids.

I put everything on the dining table after I was done cooking. I watched my dad descend and take a seat at the table. Akhil Raghav is my father! Although he is not as horrible as my mother, he shares her hatred of me.

I began serving them once everyone had sat down. My mother said, disgusted, "Serve my baby Ro first. He is getting late because of you, rat!" I nodded hastily and began serving him. I noticed some pity when I gazed into his eyes. I'm not sure whether I'm seeing it correctly, though. Every day, my brother doesn't talk to me or say anything to me. The bond between us is not typical among siblings.

After I finished serving everyone, they all began to eat as freely as they always did. Like every other day, I went to the kitchen and cleaned up while they were eating. Their family chats, which I seldom participate in, were audible to me. Although it doesn't mean anything to me and I am accustomed to it, it hurts in my heart.

I soon heard them rising. I then walked outside to retrieve their dishes and placed them in the kitchen. I noticed Rohan's bag by the chair when I went to get the last of the dishes, indicating that he had forgotten it. I grabbed it because I knew he was probably going to leave, and I was about to bolt from the house when my mother stopped me. "Where are you going, and why are you holding Rohan's bag?" she inquired. "H...e for...go...t it so... I was going... to give it to him..." "Then why are you standing here? Go!" she shouted. I gave a nod and hurried out the door.

Before he went, I called his name as I noticed him getting into his car. "Rohan." I hurried up to him as soon as he turned back to face me. By the time I got to him, I was breathless. As I took deep breaths, I added, "You...forgot your...bag." After glancing at me, he opened the door of his automobile. When he pulled out a water bottle and handed it to me, my bewilderment vanished.

I was about to accept it when I recalled something my mother had said. I shook my head in disapproval and noticed a glimmer of shame in his eyes, but he quickly averted his gaze and nodded, returning the water bottle. "You don't deserve anything from me, Akhil, and especially not my son Rohan. Stay away from us and our things!" I said. I gave him the bag, and he said 'thank you' quickly as he drove away.

• • • •

I walked inside and got a few slaps while doing my usual tasks. Not as horrible as the previous days. Since my other bruises haven't healed yet, I'm grateful that I didn't sustain any more today.

By nightfall, I had completed everything, and everyone had retired to their quarters. I so entered my boring and uninteresting room as well. There was an old mattress and bed in the room, along with a side table that had a lamp on it. A little dressing table, a tiny closet, a small adjoining bathroom, and a bookshelf containing some books I purchased myself.

I earned the money while I was in college and worked part-time in a cafe for a year to pay for books, but I was eventually caught by my father and forced to quit. You guessed it: my mother tormented me severely after that. In addition to being slapped and hungry for three days, I was struck by a belt.

I picked up a book and switched on the lamp on my side table. Since I don't have many books, I have read them all many times, but I'm content with them.

Despite not using it, I do have money saved up from my part-time employment. I only give it to those who are in need. Many individuals around the world are living without food or shelter. I feel fortunate to have at least those things when I think about them. I therefore constantly strive to assist those in need when I see them. My greatest joys are playing with children at the park and donating to charitable causes. Every time I go grocery shopping, I always get done before curfew and visit the park and temple.

This was how I lived every day. Get up, get ready, pray, cook, get teased, cook and clean, be spanked or tortured, make supper, clean up, go to my room and read, reflect on my day, come up with one major question, and then go to sleep.

Since I had to wake up early the following day, I put my book away and turned off the lamp. I lay on my bed and reflected on my day while gazing up at the ceiling. Ultimately, I considered that one question I asked myself every time. Will I find love and respect from anyone in this world? With that in mind, I entered the realm of dreams and lived my life as I had always desired.