Khushi was sipping her tea and sitting on the balcony. It was her secret place to go when she needed those scarce few minutes from her own life.

It had been days since she enjoyed the fresh breeze. Her thoughts went back to her home in Amritsar. Back then, she took an hour just to finish her cup of coffee. A smile filled her face, but it was short-lived.

“Khushi, where is my tea?”

The voice brought her back to her current house, where she stayed with her husband Samrat and her in-laws. Samrat was ready and leaving for the office. 

“Your Tiffin, Samrat.” 

She handed him his tiffin but he refused to take it. Some party at the office, he had said. This was happening regularly now. She got up early every day and made his tiffin. He would then refuse to take it. 

The ever-smiling Khushi was now just a bundle of bones, wrapped in loose clothing, covered from head to toe. Those bright eyes were now dazed and without dreams. 

In just one year the love had vanished. Samrat refused to even speak to her lovingly. What is wrong? Is it me? Does he want a child?  More dowry? Is it my cooking? Self-doubt ate her every minute of the day with no one to even speak to about it.

With the same thoughts, she returned to her room, to the ever-loving balcony to see her cup of tea, waiting for her, now cold and lifeless just as she was. 

She thought it was time I stood up. Should I speak to Maa about it first? Maa was Kalpana, Khushi's mother-in-law, a loving lady but as helpless as Khushi.

She decided to speak to Smarat that night very well knowing that it would bring no results. Dinner was on and Khusi was serving food. The moment Maa and Papaji got up, Khusi sat down and cleared her throat.

Her heart was beating faster than usual. A hint of shiver engulfed her body and her face was warm. Mustering all the courage she spoke out.

“Samrat, can we talk?” She asked with great courage

“Hmm”, was his reply.

Kalpana could not hear what was being spoken, but she realized it was not good. Anger roared inside her, but helplessness burdened her down. She saw Khushi run to her room.

The next morning, there was no reply when Samrat shouted for his tea. He kept calling, saying that the women of the house were of no use. He picked up his briefcase and stormed out. Khushi came down with her briefcase packed, unsure how to explain it all to her Maa. 

“Go on, my dear child, if you lose the courage to take this step now, you never will take it. Believe me.”

With confidence, Khushi stepped out of the house. She lost a family that day but made a new friend for life.

It was her Maa.