11-12-2025, 06:40 PM
Maldives se Mumbai wapas ki flight lambi thi. Business class mein dono side-by-side seats par baithe the, lekin poori flight mein shayad hi dus baatein hui hongi.
Anil takeoff ke ek ghante baad hi blanket odh kar so gaya. Uski saansein dheemi aur regular thi, jaise honeymoon ka koi tension hi nahi tha. Malv parableekin aankhen khuli thi. Wo window seat par baithi thi, bahar andhera tha, sirf clouds dikhte the. Headphones lage the lekin music off tha. Poore 7 ghante uska dimaag bas ek hi sawal ghuma raha tha:
“Kya maine galati kar di shaadi kar ke?”
Honeymoon ki har raat yaad aa rahi thi—Anil ka 30-40 second mein khatam ho jana, uska guilty chehra, uski “sorry baby, next time” wali baatein. Wo sochti thi ki shayad starting mein aisa hota hai, lekin ek hafta beet gaya aur kuchh badla nahi. Wo frustrated thi—physically, emotionally. Wo 26 saal ki jawan aurat thi, jiske body mein abhi bhi modeling days ki energy thi, aur uska husband bed mein bilkul satisfy nahi kar pa raha tha.
Wo apne aap se poochti rahi—paisa, security, family pressure… kya sirf iske liye shaadi ki? Kya usne apni khushi compromise kar di?
Flight land hui. Mumbai ki garmi aur traffic ne unka swagat kiya. Dono ghar pahunch gaye—Bandra West mein unka naya 3 BHK flat, sea-facing, modern interiors, Anil ke paise se fully furnished. Pehle din toh thodi excitement thi—luggage unpack, gifts baantne, relatives se milna. Lekin ek hafta beet te hi routine set ho gaya.
**Daily routine aisa tha:**
Subah 7 baje Anil uth kar gym jata (ab seriously try kar raha tha body banane ki), office ke liye nikal jata. Malvika 9 baje tak so, coffee peete hue balcony mein baithi phone scroll karti, Instagram par Maldives ki photos post karti—perfect couple wali, jisme wo dono has rahe the, caption “Best honeymoon ever ❤️”.
Din mein Malvika ghar par hi rehti—kabhi yoga, kabhi friends se lunch, kabhi shopping. Shaam ko Anil 8 baje tak wapas aata. Dinner bahar ya ghar par, thodi TV, thodi baatein, aur phir bedroom.
Bedroom mein bhi wahi—Anil try karta, foreplay thoda zyada karta ab, lekin result same. 1 minute se zyada nahi tikta. Malvika ab openly frustrated dikhati thi—sigh karti, side ho jati, phone utha leti. Anil guilty feel karta, usko hug karne ki koshish karta, lekin Malvika door ho jati.
Society mein bhi unki jodi discussion ka topic ban gayi thi.
Bandra ki high-society building thi—kaafi celebrities, models, businessmen rehte the. Lift mein, parking mein, morning walk ke time log Malvika ko dekhte reh jaate.
Ek aunty ne toh seedhe neighbor se kaha, “Arre wo Malvika na? Jo model thi? Uska husband toh bilkul simple lagta hai… height bhi kam, body bhi patli. Kaise manage kar leti hogi?”
Morning walk karte waqt do aunties gossip kar rahi thi:
“Package toh acha hoga uska… 1-2 crore toh kama hi raha hoga.”
“Haan, warna aisa maal kahan milta aise ladke ko?”
Gym mein bhi ladke Malvika ko dekhte—wo ab tightne tight leggings aur sports bra mein workout karti. Trainer usko extra attention deta. Ek baar toh trainer ne kaha, “Ma’am, aap toh abhi bhi ramp walk kar sakti hain!” Malvika has di, lekin andar se aur frustrated hui.
Society ke young lads bhi lift mein Malvika ke saath aane ki koshish karte, baatein karne lagte. Ek baar 22-23 saal ka ladka bola, “Bhabhi, aap toh bilkul heroine lag Oopar se neeche tak scan kiya usne.
Anil sab notice kar raha tha. Wo office se thaka hara aata, aur ghar par bhi tension. Malvika ab usse thodi coldly behave karti thi—baatein kam, touch kam, sex toh bilkul rare ho gaya tha.
Do mahine beet gaye the shaadi ko. Flat mein sab kuchh perfect tha—furniture, view, lifestyle. Sirf unka rishta perfect nahi tha.
Malvika raat ko aksar balcony mein akeli baithi rehti, Mumbai ki lights ko dekhti, aur sochti—ab kya karein? Kaise adjust kar le?
Aur Anil apne study room mein baitha late night work karta, guilt aur insecurity ke saath. Wo jaanta tha ki uski wife khush nahi hai. Lekin uske paas koi solution nahi tha.
Unka “happily married” ka facade social media par toh chamak raha tha, lekin andar se sab kuchh khokhla ho chuka tha.
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Anil takeoff ke ek ghante baad hi blanket odh kar so gaya. Uski saansein dheemi aur regular thi, jaise honeymoon ka koi tension hi nahi tha. Malv parableekin aankhen khuli thi. Wo window seat par baithi thi, bahar andhera tha, sirf clouds dikhte the. Headphones lage the lekin music off tha. Poore 7 ghante uska dimaag bas ek hi sawal ghuma raha tha:
“Kya maine galati kar di shaadi kar ke?”
Honeymoon ki har raat yaad aa rahi thi—Anil ka 30-40 second mein khatam ho jana, uska guilty chehra, uski “sorry baby, next time” wali baatein. Wo sochti thi ki shayad starting mein aisa hota hai, lekin ek hafta beet gaya aur kuchh badla nahi. Wo frustrated thi—physically, emotionally. Wo 26 saal ki jawan aurat thi, jiske body mein abhi bhi modeling days ki energy thi, aur uska husband bed mein bilkul satisfy nahi kar pa raha tha.
Wo apne aap se poochti rahi—paisa, security, family pressure… kya sirf iske liye shaadi ki? Kya usne apni khushi compromise kar di?
Flight land hui. Mumbai ki garmi aur traffic ne unka swagat kiya. Dono ghar pahunch gaye—Bandra West mein unka naya 3 BHK flat, sea-facing, modern interiors, Anil ke paise se fully furnished. Pehle din toh thodi excitement thi—luggage unpack, gifts baantne, relatives se milna. Lekin ek hafta beet te hi routine set ho gaya.
**Daily routine aisa tha:**
Subah 7 baje Anil uth kar gym jata (ab seriously try kar raha tha body banane ki), office ke liye nikal jata. Malvika 9 baje tak so, coffee peete hue balcony mein baithi phone scroll karti, Instagram par Maldives ki photos post karti—perfect couple wali, jisme wo dono has rahe the, caption “Best honeymoon ever ❤️”.
Din mein Malvika ghar par hi rehti—kabhi yoga, kabhi friends se lunch, kabhi shopping. Shaam ko Anil 8 baje tak wapas aata. Dinner bahar ya ghar par, thodi TV, thodi baatein, aur phir bedroom.
Bedroom mein bhi wahi—Anil try karta, foreplay thoda zyada karta ab, lekin result same. 1 minute se zyada nahi tikta. Malvika ab openly frustrated dikhati thi—sigh karti, side ho jati, phone utha leti. Anil guilty feel karta, usko hug karne ki koshish karta, lekin Malvika door ho jati.
Society mein bhi unki jodi discussion ka topic ban gayi thi.
Bandra ki high-society building thi—kaafi celebrities, models, businessmen rehte the. Lift mein, parking mein, morning walk ke time log Malvika ko dekhte reh jaate.
Ek aunty ne toh seedhe neighbor se kaha, “Arre wo Malvika na? Jo model thi? Uska husband toh bilkul simple lagta hai… height bhi kam, body bhi patli. Kaise manage kar leti hogi?”
Morning walk karte waqt do aunties gossip kar rahi thi:
“Package toh acha hoga uska… 1-2 crore toh kama hi raha hoga.”
“Haan, warna aisa maal kahan milta aise ladke ko?”
Gym mein bhi ladke Malvika ko dekhte—wo ab tightne tight leggings aur sports bra mein workout karti. Trainer usko extra attention deta. Ek baar toh trainer ne kaha, “Ma’am, aap toh abhi bhi ramp walk kar sakti hain!” Malvika has di, lekin andar se aur frustrated hui.
Society ke young lads bhi lift mein Malvika ke saath aane ki koshish karte, baatein karne lagte. Ek baar 22-23 saal ka ladka bola, “Bhabhi, aap toh bilkul heroine lag Oopar se neeche tak scan kiya usne.
Anil sab notice kar raha tha. Wo office se thaka hara aata, aur ghar par bhi tension. Malvika ab usse thodi coldly behave karti thi—baatein kam, touch kam, sex toh bilkul rare ho gaya tha.
Do mahine beet gaye the shaadi ko. Flat mein sab kuchh perfect tha—furniture, view, lifestyle. Sirf unka rishta perfect nahi tha.
Malvika raat ko aksar balcony mein akeli baithi rehti, Mumbai ki lights ko dekhti, aur sochti—ab kya karein? Kaise adjust kar le?
Aur Anil apne study room mein baitha late night work karta, guilt aur insecurity ke saath. Wo jaanta tha ki uski wife khush nahi hai. Lekin uske paas koi solution nahi tha.
Unka “happily married” ka facade social media par toh chamak raha tha, lekin andar se sab kuchh khokhla ho chuka tha.
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