Unwillingly Yours: Siya

The man grabbed her wrist, turned to the stunned priest. “Pandit ji”, his voice thundered, “Shaadi shuru karo”. Everyone gasped. Siya froze, “Kya!? Have you lost your mind?!” But he didn’t answer. He simply gestured to his men, who moved the trembling groom and bride aside. “Sir”, bride’s father stammered, “yeh — yeh zabardasti—” “Chup!” His tone was enough to make the man stumble back. “This marriage will happen. Right now.” Siya’s voice rose, trembling with anger but firm. “You can’t force me—-” “I can”, he said, eyes glinting. “And I will. Say yes or watch your father lose his life.” Siya looked at bride’s father. But she stayed firm, “Never and he is not my father…”. As soon as the word ”never” left her mouth, that man took the gun out from his hip, behind his tailored blazer. And shoot at the bride's father's arm. Her breath hitched. ------------------------------------------ “Mere dadaji ki haalat ke liye yeh ladki zimmedar hai!” he roared. Siya glared. “Main kisi ke liye zimmendar nahi hoon! Aur aapko kisne haq diya aise kisiko accuse karne ka?” Before Siya could question further, a doctor came running down the grand staircase, panting. “Hukum saa — your grandfather… he’s regained consciousness.” The room fell silent. Siya exhaled sharply. “Good. Ab toh main bhi mil leti hoon us buddhe se jise maine hurt kiya hai.” Her tone was laced with sarcasm — a spark she couldn’t dim, even now. The slap came before she even registered his movement. SMACK. The sound cracked through the air like thunder. Her head snapped to the side, her cheek burning. Slowly — too slowly — Siya raised her head, her eyes shimmering tears, her lips trembled… “How dare you?” but her pride remained unbroken. And before logic, fear, or sense could intervene — she raised her hand. CRACK. The second slap echoed even louder. ------------------------------------------ “Theek hai! Aap sabko lagta hai yeh shaadi sach hai? Fine! Toh main divorce lungi. Simple.” That word echoed through the room like a thunder. Then, his mother — calm, yet her words held weight — “Hamare raj gharane mein divorce nahi hote, Siya. Yahan sirf arthiya uthti hai.” But she was done with everything, emotionally exhausted but still fierce, “Toh theek hai!” she shouted. “Ab toh aapke bete ki arthi hi uthegi! Par main yahan nahi rahoongi.”