16-03-2026, 06:37 AM
"How have you been, beta?" He asked me as we walked side by side into the house.
"Everything is fine, Baba. I am so excited to be here for Nikhil's wedding. I've been looking forward to this for so long." I replied as we walked towards the courtyard of the house.
It was a large house, typical of what was found in the countryside and built by Baba's father several decades ago.
Above the large teakwood door was a stone arch which gave way to the living area. The house had a courtyard allowing plenty of light and air to pass through the house. To the east of the courtyard was a large dining table where a dozen people could eat at a time, and the kitchen was to the north of the dining room and a storeroom behind the kitchen. A large temple room was to the south of the dining table. Baba performed a pooja in the temple every morning before starting his day.
There was a large wooden swing with brass chains and hooks to the west of the courtyard with sofas and coffee table, making it the living room of the house. To the northwest of the courtyard was the first bedroom, originally used by Baba's mother in her last days. The courtyard had 4 thick but beautiful carved sagwan wood pillars with vines running along their tops. The house was mostly made of wood, with brickwork walls.
Adjacent to the bedroom were the stairs which led to the first floor. The first floor had four more bedrooms, each with their own bathrooms and balconies.
The house was full of people. The extended family had gathered for my brother-in-law, Nikhil's wedding, which was to happen a couple of days from now in the bride's hometown. Nikhil was my husband's younger brother. Like his brother, Nikhil also had an engineering degree from a top ranked college before settling down here to help Baba run his estate.
"Shalini!" I heard my mother-in-law call out to me from the courtyard. She was sitting on a chair, surrounded by the ladies of the house, getting mehendi etched on her hands.
Suman, who I fondly called as Aai, is my mother-in-law. A warm, affectionate and docile woman, she gets along well with everyone. She is everyone's favorite in the family and the exact opposite of Baba; short, chubby, talkative, cheerful and very loving.
Aai and Baba got married at a very young age, as was the custom during those days. With a secure job in the army, a 20 year old Baba married an 18 year old Aai. A year later, Rahul was born, followed by Nikhil a couple of years after.
"Hi Aai. How are you?" I greeted her before touching her feet and then hugging her. "I am busy, as you can see. Haha..." she said excitedly.
"That I can. After all, it's your son's wedding," I replied as I sat on a chair in front of her.
"Where is my son?" Baba said in his usual stern manner.
"Your son is busy working. He sends his regards and apologies for not being able to attend," I replied.
"I don't understand how work is so important that he can't even find a couple of days of time to be there for his brother's wedding," Aai said, sounding disappointed, as she should have been.
"Upcoming elections are keeping him busy, Aai. His regular work is hectic and the election duty has only added to it. He barely gets time to come home. He wanted to come and was sad about not being able to," I replied, trying to justify my husband's absence.
"That is nonsense. What's the use of having a cushy government job when he can't find time for anything?" Baba said, sounding the most annoyed.
"I wanted him to stay here and look after the family business, but he wanted to become an IAS. What's the use of being a Saheb if you can't find time for your family?" Baba said, sounding not just annoyed but genuinely disappointed.
"Does he find time for you, beta?" Aai asked.
"Ya... sometimes... but I'm used to that now," I replied.
Just then, my phone started ringing. It was my husband, Rahul.
"Looks like he started getting hiccups," I said, pointing the phone at my in-laws, referring to the old myth in India. We all burst out laughing.
"Hello. Ya... I just reached home. Baba had sent a car to pick me up at the station. Ya... ya... here, speak to them," I said, handing over the phone to Baba.
My husband spent the next few minutes explaining, apologising to his parents. After the call, I went upstairs to meet the groom, my brother-in-law, Nikhil. I spent a few minutes talking to him before Aai called me downstairs for the mehendi.
I sat on a chair in the courtyard while the mehendi artist went to work on my hands. The mood of the house was joyous, with laughs and giggles all around.
But between those laughs and giggles, I noticed my father-in-law stealing glances at me every now and then. I noticed those glances weren't the regular ones and felt as if he was checking me out. I had first noticed his glances a year ago when both Aai and Baba had visited us. I ignored it the first few times I caught him but noticed his gaze either on my chest or on my butt every time I was around him.
I also noticed that his behaviour had changed with me. Baba was usually a stern man with few words. I had always known him like that and was a bit intimidated by him when I first came into this family a decade ago. But during his last visit to our house, I sensed he was being more chatty with me, a lot more than usual. Before that, Aai talked to me the most, with Baba just being in the periphery. After that visit, Baba would occasionally call me, speaking to me briefly, asking about me or Rahul or our son.
But that was just the last time, but today, the way he gave me a tight hug, it gave me goosebumps. He had never done that before, restricting himself to only blessing me.
I married Rahul almost 12 years ago. It was an arranged marriage, like almost all of them in India. After graduating with a degree in computer sciences, I was working in a tech company in Bangalore. My father rang me up one day telling me about a marriage prospect. He was a newly minted IAS officer, and one of my mom's friends had referred the proposal to us.
That he was an IAS was enough for everyone to say yes, and meeting Rahul was merely a formality, though I did like him on the first date. A whirlwind courtship lasted only a few months before we got married. I was 23 and Rahul was 28. My husband's job was not just transferable, but being a junior IAS, he was posted mostly to small towns in the countryside as SDM. I decided to quit my job and move with my husband to a small town in anywhere India.
With a large house, domestic help and staff at my beck and call, I had a comfortable life wherever we went. The early years of our marriage were usual, full of romance and frantic lovemaking. My husband spent the days in office, running the government and nights, fucking me silly and breeding me, which resulted in our son Aarav being born a year and a half into our marriage.
As years passed on, I got busy with my son and the household and Rahul got busier with work. He was slowly climbing the administrative ladder, being posted to bigger districts and bigger departments. He would be away for days at a stretch on inspection visits and spent long days at work. Even when he was home, he would be surrounded by his staff and paperwork.
Between his work and my household responsibilities, our lovemaking became infrequent and drab. But I wasn't complaining. I was living the lavish life of an IAS wife. Being his wife, it was my responsibility to attend functions and socials frequently, which also kept me busy.
After our wedding, we moved four times and every time we moved, we had to look for a new college for our son, which affected his studies. So after he turned ten, we got him admitted to a reputed boarding college in the hills. With that, I had a lot of free time on hand as I didn't need to work, nor did I have to look after our son and my husband being forever busy, contrary to the popular belief that government jobs are stress free.
My parents and in-laws would visit every few months to give me company and during the last visit of my in-laws, I noticed my father-in-law's gaze.
"Everything is fine, Baba. I am so excited to be here for Nikhil's wedding. I've been looking forward to this for so long." I replied as we walked towards the courtyard of the house.
It was a large house, typical of what was found in the countryside and built by Baba's father several decades ago.
Above the large teakwood door was a stone arch which gave way to the living area. The house had a courtyard allowing plenty of light and air to pass through the house. To the east of the courtyard was a large dining table where a dozen people could eat at a time, and the kitchen was to the north of the dining room and a storeroom behind the kitchen. A large temple room was to the south of the dining table. Baba performed a pooja in the temple every morning before starting his day.
There was a large wooden swing with brass chains and hooks to the west of the courtyard with sofas and coffee table, making it the living room of the house. To the northwest of the courtyard was the first bedroom, originally used by Baba's mother in her last days. The courtyard had 4 thick but beautiful carved sagwan wood pillars with vines running along their tops. The house was mostly made of wood, with brickwork walls.
Adjacent to the bedroom were the stairs which led to the first floor. The first floor had four more bedrooms, each with their own bathrooms and balconies.
The house was full of people. The extended family had gathered for my brother-in-law, Nikhil's wedding, which was to happen a couple of days from now in the bride's hometown. Nikhil was my husband's younger brother. Like his brother, Nikhil also had an engineering degree from a top ranked college before settling down here to help Baba run his estate.
"Shalini!" I heard my mother-in-law call out to me from the courtyard. She was sitting on a chair, surrounded by the ladies of the house, getting mehendi etched on her hands.
Suman, who I fondly called as Aai, is my mother-in-law. A warm, affectionate and docile woman, she gets along well with everyone. She is everyone's favorite in the family and the exact opposite of Baba; short, chubby, talkative, cheerful and very loving.
Aai and Baba got married at a very young age, as was the custom during those days. With a secure job in the army, a 20 year old Baba married an 18 year old Aai. A year later, Rahul was born, followed by Nikhil a couple of years after.
"Hi Aai. How are you?" I greeted her before touching her feet and then hugging her. "I am busy, as you can see. Haha..." she said excitedly.
"That I can. After all, it's your son's wedding," I replied as I sat on a chair in front of her.
"Where is my son?" Baba said in his usual stern manner.
"Your son is busy working. He sends his regards and apologies for not being able to attend," I replied.
"I don't understand how work is so important that he can't even find a couple of days of time to be there for his brother's wedding," Aai said, sounding disappointed, as she should have been.
"Upcoming elections are keeping him busy, Aai. His regular work is hectic and the election duty has only added to it. He barely gets time to come home. He wanted to come and was sad about not being able to," I replied, trying to justify my husband's absence.
"That is nonsense. What's the use of having a cushy government job when he can't find time for anything?" Baba said, sounding the most annoyed.
"I wanted him to stay here and look after the family business, but he wanted to become an IAS. What's the use of being a Saheb if you can't find time for your family?" Baba said, sounding not just annoyed but genuinely disappointed.
"Does he find time for you, beta?" Aai asked.
"Ya... sometimes... but I'm used to that now," I replied.
Just then, my phone started ringing. It was my husband, Rahul.
"Looks like he started getting hiccups," I said, pointing the phone at my in-laws, referring to the old myth in India. We all burst out laughing.
"Hello. Ya... I just reached home. Baba had sent a car to pick me up at the station. Ya... ya... here, speak to them," I said, handing over the phone to Baba.
My husband spent the next few minutes explaining, apologising to his parents. After the call, I went upstairs to meet the groom, my brother-in-law, Nikhil. I spent a few minutes talking to him before Aai called me downstairs for the mehendi.
I sat on a chair in the courtyard while the mehendi artist went to work on my hands. The mood of the house was joyous, with laughs and giggles all around.
But between those laughs and giggles, I noticed my father-in-law stealing glances at me every now and then. I noticed those glances weren't the regular ones and felt as if he was checking me out. I had first noticed his glances a year ago when both Aai and Baba had visited us. I ignored it the first few times I caught him but noticed his gaze either on my chest or on my butt every time I was around him.
I also noticed that his behaviour had changed with me. Baba was usually a stern man with few words. I had always known him like that and was a bit intimidated by him when I first came into this family a decade ago. But during his last visit to our house, I sensed he was being more chatty with me, a lot more than usual. Before that, Aai talked to me the most, with Baba just being in the periphery. After that visit, Baba would occasionally call me, speaking to me briefly, asking about me or Rahul or our son.
But that was just the last time, but today, the way he gave me a tight hug, it gave me goosebumps. He had never done that before, restricting himself to only blessing me.
I married Rahul almost 12 years ago. It was an arranged marriage, like almost all of them in India. After graduating with a degree in computer sciences, I was working in a tech company in Bangalore. My father rang me up one day telling me about a marriage prospect. He was a newly minted IAS officer, and one of my mom's friends had referred the proposal to us.
That he was an IAS was enough for everyone to say yes, and meeting Rahul was merely a formality, though I did like him on the first date. A whirlwind courtship lasted only a few months before we got married. I was 23 and Rahul was 28. My husband's job was not just transferable, but being a junior IAS, he was posted mostly to small towns in the countryside as SDM. I decided to quit my job and move with my husband to a small town in anywhere India.
With a large house, domestic help and staff at my beck and call, I had a comfortable life wherever we went. The early years of our marriage were usual, full of romance and frantic lovemaking. My husband spent the days in office, running the government and nights, fucking me silly and breeding me, which resulted in our son Aarav being born a year and a half into our marriage.
As years passed on, I got busy with my son and the household and Rahul got busier with work. He was slowly climbing the administrative ladder, being posted to bigger districts and bigger departments. He would be away for days at a stretch on inspection visits and spent long days at work. Even when he was home, he would be surrounded by his staff and paperwork.
Between his work and my household responsibilities, our lovemaking became infrequent and drab. But I wasn't complaining. I was living the lavish life of an IAS wife. Being his wife, it was my responsibility to attend functions and socials frequently, which also kept me busy.
After our wedding, we moved four times and every time we moved, we had to look for a new college for our son, which affected his studies. So after he turned ten, we got him admitted to a reputed boarding college in the hills. With that, I had a lot of free time on hand as I didn't need to work, nor did I have to look after our son and my husband being forever busy, contrary to the popular belief that government jobs are stress free.
My parents and in-laws would visit every few months to give me company and during the last visit of my in-laws, I noticed my father-in-law's gaze.
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