04-06-2026, 08:00 PM
The Delivery
The next morning, Simran finished making breakfast quietly.
Poha, tea, fruit.
She placed everything on the dining table and stood to the side, waiting for Arvind to finish. Ravi had already gone out, saying he would try at one more factory near the main road. His voice had confidence in the morning, but Simran had started noticing that Ravi’s confidence usually disappeared by evening.
Arvind ate slowly.
He did not rush.
After breakfast, the doorbell rang.
Billa opened the gate.
A delivery boy stood outside with two neatly packed clothing bags from the shop.
“Malhotra ji ke naam delivery hai,” the boy said.
[There is a delivery in Mr. Malhotra’s name.]
Billa took the bags and looked inside before bringing them in. A small smile moved under his moustache.
He carried the bags to the dining area.
“Sir, kapde aa gaye,” Billa said.
[Sir, the clothes have arrived.]
Simran looked up from the tray in her hands.
Arvind wiped his fingers with a napkin and stood.
“Good. Simran, take these.”
[Good. Simran, take these.]
She stepped forward slowly.
The bags looked expensive in her hands. Too expensive for someone who still had not received her first salary.
“Sir, main baad mein rakh doon?” she asked softly.
[Sir, should I keep them for later?]
Arvind looked at her calmly.
“Nahi. Abhi change kar lo. Aaj se yahi pehenna hai.”
[No. Change now. From today, you will wear these.]
Simran blinked.
“Abhi?”
[Now?]
“Haan. Uniform hai. Work ke time proper rehna chahiye.”
[Yes. It is your uniform. You should look proper during work.]
She nodded hesitantly.
“Ji, sir.”
[Yes, sir.]
Billa stood near the side door, pretending to adjust the garden gloves in his hand.
His eyes followed the bag.
Then Simran.
The New Suit
Simran went to the outside room and closed the door.
She opened the bag carefully.
Inside was the white suit.
At first, it looked beautiful.
Soft fabric.
Light embroidery.
Neatly stitched sleeves.
She smiled a little.
For one second, she forgot the pressure in her chest. She touched the cloth with shy happiness. It had been a long time since something new belonged to her.
Then she lifted the kameez fully.
Her smile faded.
The neckline was much deeper than she had expected. The shoulders were cut wider than her usual suits. The fabric was lighter than the one she had chosen in the shop.
She looked at it for a long moment.
Then looked toward the closed door.
Maybe this was Delhi style, she thought faintly, though the thought did not stay clear in her head.
She changed slowly.
When she stood in front of the small mirror, her face turned hot.
The suit did not feel like her.
It sat on her body in a way that made her uncomfortable. The fabric was too light. The neckline felt too open. The dark innerwear showed through more than she expected, even though she tried adjusting the dupatta again and again.
She pulled the dupatta higher.
It slipped.
She pulled it again.
Her fingers became nervous.
“Yeh kaise pehnu?” she whispered to herself.
[How do I wear this?]
She tried pinning it differently.
Still, she felt exposed.
Not because she had chosen it.
Because someone else had changed the choice after she made it.
But Simran did not understand that fully yet.
She only felt embarrassed, confused, and trapped inside a new piece of cloth.
After a few minutes, Arvind’s voice came from outside the room.
“Simran? Time lag raha hai?”
[Simran? Is it taking time?]
She quickly grabbed the dupatta and opened the door.
In Front of Arvind
Simran stepped out slowly.
Her eyes were lowered. One hand held the dupatta near her shoulder, the other kept pulling at the side of the kameez.
Arvind stood near the garden path.
He looked at her once.
Only once.
Then he looked away like a decent man.
That made her even more confused.
“Sir…” she said softly, “yeh neck thoda…”
[Sir… this neckline is a little…]
Arvind turned toward her.
“Thoda kya?”
[A little what?]
She swallowed.
“Open lag raha hai.”
[It feels open.]
Arvind smiled lightly.
“Simran, tum gaon wali habit se dekh rahi ho. Delhi mein yeh normal hai.”
[Simran, you are looking at it with village habits. In Delhi, this is normal.]
She kept her eyes down.
“Par mujhe ajeeb lag raha hai.”
[But I feel strange.]
“Ajeeb isliye lag raha hai kyunki pehli baar pehna hai.”
[It feels strange because you are wearing it for the first time.]
She adjusted the dupatta again.
“Main dupatta pin kar loon?”
[Should I pin the dupatta?]
“Pin kar lo, lekin kaam karte waqt baar-baar sambhalna mushkil hoga.”
[You can pin it, but while working it will be difficult to keep adjusting it.]
Simran looked unsure.
Arvind’s voice became softer.
“Tumhe comfortable hona seekhna padega. Ghar ka kaam karna hai, guests bhi aate hain. Kapde neat hone chahiye. Itna sharmane se kaise chalega?”
[You will have to learn to be comfortable. You have to work in the house, guests also come. Clothes should be neat. How will it work if you feel shy about everything?]
Simran’s cheeks warmed.
“Ji sir… main try karungi.”
[Yes sir… I will try.]
“Good girl,” Arvind said.
The words were quiet.
But they sat strangely on her skin.
She did not know why.
Billa At The Back
Simran turned toward the kitchen.
As she passed the back corridor, she felt someone’s presence near the garden door.
Billa was outside, half-hidden behind the side wall, holding a pipe in his hand.
He was not watering anything.
He looked away quickly when she noticed him.
“Madam ji, naya suit?” he said with a crooked smile.
[Madam, new suit?]
Simran stopped for a second.
Her fingers tightened on the dupatta.
“Ji,” she said quietly.
[Yes.]
“Achha hai. Malhotra ji ka taste bada mehenga hai.”
[It is nice. Mr. Malhotra has expensive taste.]
She did not answer.
She walked into the kitchen faster than usual.
Behind her, Billa kept watching from the garden side, pretending to fix a plant pot.
The house had many doors.
But today, every door felt like an eye.
Getting Used To It
In the kitchen, Simran tried to work normally.
She washed cups.
Cut vegetables.
Wiped the counter.
But every few minutes, her hand went to her dupatta.
She kept checking the neckline, then the fabric, then the door.
Arvind came in with an empty cup.
“Tea bana dogi?”
[Will you make tea?]
“Ji, sir.”
[Yes, sir.]
She turned to the stove.
While pouring water into the pan, her dupatta slipped slightly from her shoulder. She quickly caught it.
Arvind noticed her nervous movement.
“Simran,” he said gently.
She turned.
“Ji?”
[Yes?]
“Work pe dhyan do. Kapdon pe nahi.”
[Focus on work, not on clothes.]
She looked embarrassed.
“Sorry, sir.”
[Sorry, sir.]
“Sorry ki zarurat nahi. Bas aadat daalni padegi.”
[No need to say sorry. You just have to get used to it.]
She nodded.
But her hands did not stop feeling shaky.
Arvind placed the cup on the counter.
“Kal se second suit bhi try kar lena. Pink wala.”
[Try the second suit from tomorrow too. The pink one.]
Simran looked up quickly.
“Woh bhi aisa hi hai?”
[Is that also like this?]
Arvind paused, then smiled.
“Better hai. Tum par achha lagega.”
[It is better. It will look good on you.]
She did not know what to say.
So she only lowered her eyes.
“Ji.”
[Yes.]
Ravi Returns Late
That evening, Ravi returned later than usual.
He looked tired again, his shirt dusty, his mood broken. There was also a faint smell of alcohol on his breath.
Simran was in the kitchen when he came near the back side.
He looked at her new suit.
For a moment, his face changed.
“Yeh naya suit hai?”
[Is this the new suit?]
Simran held her dupatta.
“Haan… shop se aaya tha subah.”
[Yes… it came from the shop in the morning.]
Ravi looked at her, then at the floor.
“Achha hai.”
[It is nice.]
She waited.
Maybe he would notice she was uncomfortable.
Maybe he would ask who changed the design.
Maybe he would say she did not have to wear it.
But Ravi only rubbed his forehead.
“Sir ne payment ki na?”
[Sir paid for it, right?]
Simran nodded slowly.
“Ji.”
[Yes.]
“Phir theek hai. Waise bhi tumhe kapdon ki zarurat thi.”
[Then it is fine. Anyway, you needed clothes.]
Her face became still.
He had closed the matter again.
Like always.
A decision happened around her.
A discomfort sat on her body.
And Ravi saw only the bill being paid.
Night
Later, when the dinner was done and the kitchen was cleaned, Simran went back to the outside room.
She changed out of the white suit carefully and folded it.
Then she looked at it for a long time.
It was new.
It was beautiful.
It was not hers.
Ravi lay on the bed, almost asleep.
“Light band kar do,” he murmured.
[Turn off the light.]
Simran put the suit in the cupboard.
Her fingers stayed on the fabric for a second.
She did not understand the full game yet.
She only knew that since coming to this house, things were slowly being decided for her.
Where she lived.
When she worked.
What she wore.
Who paid.
Who stayed silent.
Outside, the garden was dark.
Billa coughed somewhere near the side wall.
Inside the main house, Arvind’s study light was still on.
Simran turned off the bulb and lay down beside Ravi.
The room became dark.
But sleep did not come quickly.
The new suit sat in the cupboard like a quiet warning.
The next morning, Simran finished making breakfast quietly.
Poha, tea, fruit.
She placed everything on the dining table and stood to the side, waiting for Arvind to finish. Ravi had already gone out, saying he would try at one more factory near the main road. His voice had confidence in the morning, but Simran had started noticing that Ravi’s confidence usually disappeared by evening.
Arvind ate slowly.
He did not rush.
After breakfast, the doorbell rang.
Billa opened the gate.
A delivery boy stood outside with two neatly packed clothing bags from the shop.
“Malhotra ji ke naam delivery hai,” the boy said.
[There is a delivery in Mr. Malhotra’s name.]
Billa took the bags and looked inside before bringing them in. A small smile moved under his moustache.
He carried the bags to the dining area.
“Sir, kapde aa gaye,” Billa said.
[Sir, the clothes have arrived.]
Simran looked up from the tray in her hands.
Arvind wiped his fingers with a napkin and stood.
“Good. Simran, take these.”
[Good. Simran, take these.]
She stepped forward slowly.
The bags looked expensive in her hands. Too expensive for someone who still had not received her first salary.
“Sir, main baad mein rakh doon?” she asked softly.
[Sir, should I keep them for later?]
Arvind looked at her calmly.
“Nahi. Abhi change kar lo. Aaj se yahi pehenna hai.”
[No. Change now. From today, you will wear these.]
Simran blinked.
“Abhi?”
[Now?]
“Haan. Uniform hai. Work ke time proper rehna chahiye.”
[Yes. It is your uniform. You should look proper during work.]
She nodded hesitantly.
“Ji, sir.”
[Yes, sir.]
Billa stood near the side door, pretending to adjust the garden gloves in his hand.
His eyes followed the bag.
Then Simran.
The New Suit
Simran went to the outside room and closed the door.
She opened the bag carefully.
Inside was the white suit.
At first, it looked beautiful.
Soft fabric.
Light embroidery.
Neatly stitched sleeves.
She smiled a little.
For one second, she forgot the pressure in her chest. She touched the cloth with shy happiness. It had been a long time since something new belonged to her.
Then she lifted the kameez fully.
Her smile faded.
The neckline was much deeper than she had expected. The shoulders were cut wider than her usual suits. The fabric was lighter than the one she had chosen in the shop.
She looked at it for a long moment.
Then looked toward the closed door.
Maybe this was Delhi style, she thought faintly, though the thought did not stay clear in her head.
She changed slowly.
When she stood in front of the small mirror, her face turned hot.
The suit did not feel like her.
It sat on her body in a way that made her uncomfortable. The fabric was too light. The neckline felt too open. The dark innerwear showed through more than she expected, even though she tried adjusting the dupatta again and again.
She pulled the dupatta higher.
It slipped.
She pulled it again.
Her fingers became nervous.
“Yeh kaise pehnu?” she whispered to herself.
[How do I wear this?]
She tried pinning it differently.
Still, she felt exposed.
Not because she had chosen it.
Because someone else had changed the choice after she made it.
But Simran did not understand that fully yet.
She only felt embarrassed, confused, and trapped inside a new piece of cloth.
After a few minutes, Arvind’s voice came from outside the room.
“Simran? Time lag raha hai?”
[Simran? Is it taking time?]
She quickly grabbed the dupatta and opened the door.
In Front of Arvind
Simran stepped out slowly.
Her eyes were lowered. One hand held the dupatta near her shoulder, the other kept pulling at the side of the kameez.
Arvind stood near the garden path.
He looked at her once.
Only once.
Then he looked away like a decent man.
That made her even more confused.
“Sir…” she said softly, “yeh neck thoda…”
[Sir… this neckline is a little…]
Arvind turned toward her.
“Thoda kya?”
[A little what?]
She swallowed.
“Open lag raha hai.”
[It feels open.]
Arvind smiled lightly.
“Simran, tum gaon wali habit se dekh rahi ho. Delhi mein yeh normal hai.”
[Simran, you are looking at it with village habits. In Delhi, this is normal.]
She kept her eyes down.
“Par mujhe ajeeb lag raha hai.”
[But I feel strange.]
“Ajeeb isliye lag raha hai kyunki pehli baar pehna hai.”
[It feels strange because you are wearing it for the first time.]
She adjusted the dupatta again.
“Main dupatta pin kar loon?”
[Should I pin the dupatta?]
“Pin kar lo, lekin kaam karte waqt baar-baar sambhalna mushkil hoga.”
[You can pin it, but while working it will be difficult to keep adjusting it.]
Simran looked unsure.
Arvind’s voice became softer.
“Tumhe comfortable hona seekhna padega. Ghar ka kaam karna hai, guests bhi aate hain. Kapde neat hone chahiye. Itna sharmane se kaise chalega?”
[You will have to learn to be comfortable. You have to work in the house, guests also come. Clothes should be neat. How will it work if you feel shy about everything?]
Simran’s cheeks warmed.
“Ji sir… main try karungi.”
[Yes sir… I will try.]
“Good girl,” Arvind said.
The words were quiet.
But they sat strangely on her skin.
She did not know why.
Billa At The Back
Simran turned toward the kitchen.
As she passed the back corridor, she felt someone’s presence near the garden door.
Billa was outside, half-hidden behind the side wall, holding a pipe in his hand.
He was not watering anything.
He looked away quickly when she noticed him.
“Madam ji, naya suit?” he said with a crooked smile.
[Madam, new suit?]
Simran stopped for a second.
Her fingers tightened on the dupatta.
“Ji,” she said quietly.
[Yes.]
“Achha hai. Malhotra ji ka taste bada mehenga hai.”
[It is nice. Mr. Malhotra has expensive taste.]
She did not answer.
She walked into the kitchen faster than usual.
Behind her, Billa kept watching from the garden side, pretending to fix a plant pot.
The house had many doors.
But today, every door felt like an eye.
Getting Used To It
In the kitchen, Simran tried to work normally.
She washed cups.
Cut vegetables.
Wiped the counter.
But every few minutes, her hand went to her dupatta.
She kept checking the neckline, then the fabric, then the door.
Arvind came in with an empty cup.
“Tea bana dogi?”
[Will you make tea?]
“Ji, sir.”
[Yes, sir.]
She turned to the stove.
While pouring water into the pan, her dupatta slipped slightly from her shoulder. She quickly caught it.
Arvind noticed her nervous movement.
“Simran,” he said gently.
She turned.
“Ji?”
[Yes?]
“Work pe dhyan do. Kapdon pe nahi.”
[Focus on work, not on clothes.]
She looked embarrassed.
“Sorry, sir.”
[Sorry, sir.]
“Sorry ki zarurat nahi. Bas aadat daalni padegi.”
[No need to say sorry. You just have to get used to it.]
She nodded.
But her hands did not stop feeling shaky.
Arvind placed the cup on the counter.
“Kal se second suit bhi try kar lena. Pink wala.”
[Try the second suit from tomorrow too. The pink one.]
Simran looked up quickly.
“Woh bhi aisa hi hai?”
[Is that also like this?]
Arvind paused, then smiled.
“Better hai. Tum par achha lagega.”
[It is better. It will look good on you.]
She did not know what to say.
So she only lowered her eyes.
“Ji.”
[Yes.]
Ravi Returns Late
That evening, Ravi returned later than usual.
He looked tired again, his shirt dusty, his mood broken. There was also a faint smell of alcohol on his breath.
Simran was in the kitchen when he came near the back side.
He looked at her new suit.
For a moment, his face changed.
“Yeh naya suit hai?”
[Is this the new suit?]
Simran held her dupatta.
“Haan… shop se aaya tha subah.”
[Yes… it came from the shop in the morning.]
Ravi looked at her, then at the floor.
“Achha hai.”
[It is nice.]
She waited.
Maybe he would notice she was uncomfortable.
Maybe he would ask who changed the design.
Maybe he would say she did not have to wear it.
But Ravi only rubbed his forehead.
“Sir ne payment ki na?”
[Sir paid for it, right?]
Simran nodded slowly.
“Ji.”
[Yes.]
“Phir theek hai. Waise bhi tumhe kapdon ki zarurat thi.”
[Then it is fine. Anyway, you needed clothes.]
Her face became still.
He had closed the matter again.
Like always.
A decision happened around her.
A discomfort sat on her body.
And Ravi saw only the bill being paid.
Night
Later, when the dinner was done and the kitchen was cleaned, Simran went back to the outside room.
She changed out of the white suit carefully and folded it.
Then she looked at it for a long time.
It was new.
It was beautiful.
It was not hers.
Ravi lay on the bed, almost asleep.
“Light band kar do,” he murmured.
[Turn off the light.]
Simran put the suit in the cupboard.
Her fingers stayed on the fabric for a second.
She did not understand the full game yet.
She only knew that since coming to this house, things were slowly being decided for her.
Where she lived.
When she worked.
What she wore.
Who paid.
Who stayed silent.
Outside, the garden was dark.
Billa coughed somewhere near the side wall.
Inside the main house, Arvind’s study light was still on.
Simran turned off the bulb and lay down beside Ravi.
The room became dark.
But sleep did not come quickly.
The new suit sat in the cupboard like a quiet warning.
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