Long ago.... On a moonless night when villages were illuminated by moon, stars and faint glow of laundered lanterns flickering behind closed doors, casting streaks of weary light onto the cobbled lane...A thin female figure was appeared
Shivani ripped off her mangal sutra, plucked black beads one by one, sprinkled them like sowing beads as curse itself, muttering maledictions to herself as she was walking...
Her untied long hair as dark as that night was wavering with her fast and steady walk. Her bare feet, still adorned with silver anklets, ringing out loud in resonance with her walk overlapped by the thudding sound of footsteps. Her frame was gaunt, carved by days of labor and nights of hunger.
Behind her, the beads formed a trail no one dared follow.
Villagers were watching behind the faded curtains, eyes watching in suspense trying to guess the walking figure to be a human or ghost or an evil spirit. Where elders were bold enough to get a clear glance at the figure. The elders, hardened by time and tales, dared to gaze steady and unflinching. But children were pulled back, and pregnant women were quietly ushered away…
Almost two years back...
On a shiny bright day, Shivani entered the same cobbled lane seated in a bullock cart, her eyes brimming with wonder. Bells tied around the bullock’s neck jingled in a festive rhythm, in perfect resonance with the chime of her anklets—
two melodies meeting for the first time, announcing her arrival.
The Mangal sutra nestled against her collarbone, beads untouched, sacred. Shivani smiled, to escape from his uncomfortable gaze (as she could sense it to be loveless) said
“This village is beautiful”
“Aahaan!”
She couldn’t take up a single word reply and also confirmed his disinterest in her for the fourteenth time. Where the other confirmations were made in the pre-wedding and post- wedding rituals.
And also, she was wondering in despair, "would this be worse If my brother failed to give them three tolas (24 grams)".
Three months rolled on as she was trying to figure out how to get in in-terms with the Devan's family and never-ending attempts to win Devan's love. Still she could see the cold behind their smiles.
Shivani's brother had promised her in-laws that he would harvest sunflowers and settle them with a dowry of 24 grams. Unfortunately, the rain failed.... harvest and his promise too failed ....
It removed the last shred of patience the family might have had and smiles grew thinner.
Here comes Lakshmi, The Mother-in -law who became vicious and evil day by day. She planned to remarry Devan to a bride from a wealthier family, one who could bring dowry heavy enough to restore the family’s pride.
She wanted to drive her off by tormenting her to the end. Then should be blamed that
“She was lazy, her upcoming was poor that she couldn't cope up with household chores”
Devan as if he had been waiting for this opportunity he was also shouting,
“You’re unfit for this family,” he spat.
His selfishness and coldness are fully revealed.Shivani was helpless, totally blank, completely devastated
Here comes the worst of all…
Though she cooked wholesome delicious foods, still she was allowed to eat only left-over meals or almost rotten. Not allowed to sleep with Devan, Lakshmi yelled,
“You have got no right to sleep with my son or to bear child to this prestigious family”
She was given space in a stable where she had to sleep amidst the "smell of dung and urine," the final, brutal statement of her worth. She was praying day and night,
“Next year for sure my brother will make a fruitful harvest, and all my sufferings will come to an end!”
Days were rolling on … It was almost late evening…Devan entered the house shouting out loud “Shivangi… where are you? "He was fuming with disappointment that he could no longer hope for the dowry.
Shivani stormed into the house from the backyard.
“What happened?” she gulped out of fear.
“Your brother met me in the market. He said he would not be able to give dowry as promised this year too..”
“There must be some valid reason..”
“I don’t want to listen to any of his reason or so called lies I dragged him out of the market”
Shivani stormed into the house from the backyard.
“What happened?” she gulped out of fear.
“Your brother met me in the market. Again, he says he can’t give the dowry this year either.”
“There must be some valid reason..”
“I don’t want to listen to any of his reasons or so called lies I dragged him out of the market and drove him away”
“You… humiliated him? In front of everyone?”
Shivangi finally speaks her truth aloud—raw, questioning, and quietly defiant:
“Is my suffering not enough for you? Now my brother too had been ill treated. How much had I been working day and night? Almost all day starving when I’m allowed to eat only left overs that too limited one? Have you ever cared when and where I sleep? What more should I take for the sake of three tolas of gold?”
“I don’t care”
“Is that all you can say? I was in the belief that some day you will understand my love for you through my sufferings and patience…”
Devan was infuriated as she bombarded him with endless questions.
Lakshmi arrived …
“Enough .. Devan Let’s quit this! Any how we are going to arrange for your next marriage as we have already planned”
Shivani could no longer bear the agony of her broken marriage, she slapped in his face with blazing eyes…
Later at night..
She sat up slowly, her body trembling, her breath uneven.Shivaangi tried to open her eyes lying on the floor in the stable. She could feel pain all over the body, dizzy, stomach growling out of hunger. She can hardly remember that Devan dragged her by hair and hit her head hard onto the wall that stole her breath…
In midnight the villagers witnessed Shivani’s walk under moonless night where,
Shivani ripped off her mangal sutra, plucked black beads one by one, sprinkled them like sowing beads as curse itself , muttering maledictions to herself as she was walking…
The beads didn’t bounce.
They landed with purpose.
Years passed, and every curse she uttered began to bloom like poisoned flowers.
Devan’s family, once proud and prosperous, began to annihilate.
First, the cattle fell ill—one by one, they collapsed under unseen disease.
Then came the drought, cruel and unrelenting, turning their harvest to dust.
Debts piled like bones in a forgotten grave, and the family went broke.
In the heat of midsummer, their grand house,plunged into darkness,was burnt to ash.
Villagers rumoured that all of the Shivangi’s curse had been happening. They spoke of misfortune as if it were magic,
as if her pain had summoned the drought, the ruin, the fall. But I would say that they were the consequences of crumbling dreams and crushing the life of a pathetic soul… “Shivangi” her question
“Why did this happen to me?”
could it be the voice of countless women whose dreams were crushed under the weight of tradition disguised as duty?