The courtroom felt stifling, not because of the crowd but due to the weight of unresolved emotions hanging in the air. Sanyukta sat rigid, clutching the edges of her dupatta as the judge reviewed the final arguments. Naman lounged on the opposite bench, his posture reeking of arrogance, while his lawyer smirked, confident of dragging the case longer.
As the judge delivered the verdict, the words seemed to echo: “The court grants the divorce.”
Sanyukta didn’t flinch. She had prepared for this moment for months, imagining it over and over. But reality came with a different kind of sting—a sharp pain mixed with relief.
Naman, however, was furious. As soon as the session ended, he stormed out of the courtroom. His parents, visibly seething, followed him but not before turning their wrath toward Sanyukta.
Outside the Courtroom
The hallway buzzed with people, but Sanyukta barely noticed it. She was heading toward the exit with her lawyer and her family members when Naman’s mother blocked her path.
“Ab toh khush ho? Ghar ujad kar mil gaya sukoon?” Her voice was loud enough to turn heads.
Sanyukta stopped but didn’t respond, her silence seemingly fueling the older woman’s anger.
“Tum jaisi auratein hi sab kuch kharaab karti hain,” she continued, her finger jabbing at Sanyukta. “Apne baare mein sochti ho, pati aur beta kis halat mein rahenge, iska khayal bhi nahi. Tumhara beta bina baap ke bada hoga aur galat rasta hi pakdega!”
Sanyukta’s calm broke at those words. She turned sharply, her eyes blazing. “Mera beta galat rasta tab pakdega jab main aap logon ke beech rehkar use aapki soch sikhaungi,” she snapped. “Aur agar ek aurat apne self-respect ke liye stand leti hai, toh iska matlab yeh nahi ki woh apni family ka khayal nahi rakhti.”
Naman joined in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Drama queen banne ki zarurat nahi hai, Sanyukta. Tumhare jaisi aurat ka ghar toh basna hi nahi chahiye tha. Tum sab ke liye toxic ho.”
Her lawyer intervened, urging her to walk away. But Sanyukta wasn’t done. She took a deep breath, looked Naman and his parents in the eye, and said firmly, “Toxic woh rishta tha jo aap logon ne banaya tha, aur us rishtay se nikalna meri sabse badi jeet hai.”
She walked away, her head held high, leaving them stunned and seething.
The days after the hearing passed in a haze. While Sanyukta felt relieved, the stigma of being a divorced woman in a small society was hard to ignore. The neighbors whispered, their words felt like tiny daggers.
“Maa, logon ki baatein sun kar thak gayi hoon,” she admitted one evening as she sat on the terrace with her mother and Avu.
Her mother sighed, gently placing a hand on hers. “Beta, logon ka kaam hai bolna. Tumhare kaam hai sahi raaste par chalna , unka muh band karna nahi .”
Avu, was her only solace. His laughter filled the quiet spaces of her heart, but the reality of raising him alone weighed heavily on her. Her Bhabhi Pooja, was less than supportive, constantly dropping hints about how her presence was becoming a burden.
“Kitni der tak yahan rahogi, Sanyu?” Pooja asked one morning, her tone casual but her intent clear. “Tumhare liye toh achha hoga agar tum kisi achhe ghar mein settle ho jao.”
“Main yahan temporary hoon, Bhabhi,” Sanyukta replied tersely. “Lekin apni zindagi ke faisle main khud loongi.”
Pooja smirked but said nothing, her silence was louder than words.
A week later, Sanyukta’s mother approached her cautiously. “Beta, ek rishta aaya hai,” she said, her tone hesitant.
Sanyukta frowned. “Maa, abhi toh divorce hua hai. Aur mujhe shaadi ke baare mein sochna bhi nahi hai.”
“Lekin ek baar milne mein kya jata hai?” her mother urged. “Rakesh naam hai, shant nature ka lagta hai. Do bacche hain uske, aur ek partner dhundh raha hai.”
Reluctantly, Sanyukta agreed, mostly to keep the peace. When Rakesh visited, he came across as polite and practical. He spoke about his late wife and how his children needed a mother figure.
“I like you, Sanyukta,” he admitted after their initial conversation. “Lekin ek baat kehni hai. Aapka beta… woh apne nani ke paas hi rahega. Main uska kharcha uthane ko tayar hoon, lekin apne ghar ka hissa nahi bana sakta.”
Sanyukta froze, her patience snapping. “Aapko lagta hai main apne bete ko chhod kar kisi ke saath jaaungi? Agar aap mujhe accept karna chahte hain, toh mere beta ko bhi accept karna hoga” she said with finality.
Rakesh tried to reason with her, but her answer remained firm. Eventually, he left, his pride bruised.
That evening, Sanyukta sat with Avu, his small hand in hers. “Hum dono ek team hain haina baby ,” she whispered. “Aur koi bhi hume alag nahi kar sakta.”
Pooja couldn’t resist taunting her. “Dekha? Tumhare jaise aurat ke liye bas aise hi proposals aayenge. Prince charming ki sapne dekhna chhod do.”
Sanyukta smiled faintly, her voice steady. “Shaadi mujhe karni hai, lekin apne terms par. Agar meri shartein kisi ko nahi pasand, toh yeh unki problem hai, meri nahi.”
For the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of clarity. Life wouldn’t be easy, but she wasn’t going to compromise—not for society, not for convenience, and definitely not for someone else’s expectations.
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Ranvijay's life was a series of victories, each case he won adding fuel to his growing reputation as a relentless lawyer. He thrived in the chaos of the courtroom, finding an unparalleled thrill in outsmarting his opponents. The smug satisfaction he felt after every debate, every victory, was his version of happiness. Relationships, marriage, and the so-called "normal life" didn’t appeal to him.
His family, however, thought otherwise. At 30, his mother believed he was long overdue for marriage. “Tumhare papa ke age mein toh tumhara bhai or tu dono ho chuke the,” she reminded him during breakfast .
Ranvijay, sipping his tea, raised an eyebrow. “Toh main papa ka clone hoon kya? Woh unka decision tha, mera alag hai.”
His mother sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Main toh bas yeh keh rahi thi ki ek acchi ladki aa jaye toh tumhari life set ho jaayegi. Mujhe toh bas apne pota potii dekhne ki khushi chahiye.”
His younger sister, Anushka couldn’t help but laugh. “Bhai, mom aapko emotionally blackmail kar rahi hain. Ab toh maan jao.”
But Ranvijay wasn’t one to give in so easily. “Maan gaya toh tum log mujhe ghar ka maamla solve karne ke liye lawyer nahi, domestic help samjhoge.” I don't want to get involved in that mess ...he announced and left for his office.
Ranvijay had built his life around control—his work, his ambitions, his freedom. The idea of marriage felt like an intrusion, a forced compromise. He often scoffed at the idea of settling down. The thought of “typical” relationships—emotional drama, clingy expectations, endless compromises—was enough to make him cringe.
His mother, however, was relentless. From family dinners to festivals, every occasion became an opportunity for her to bring up prospective brides. “Kamini ki beti tumhare saath perfect lagegi. Doctor hai aur sanskari bhi.”
When rest of his family joined in asking him to atleast meet the girl he agreed just for the sake of ending the discussion.
He went ahead with he meeting set up by his dearest mother to meet Megha ...The prospective bride ....He scoffed on the mere thought and scared away the girl telling her he is not at interested breaking her heart . But it was his mother fault...isn't it ...He shrugged and went on with his cases .
In the evening When he reached the living room , the entire family was assembled like a jury waiting to deliver their verdict. His father, Pratap , sat at the head of the sofa, his stern expression impossible to miss. His grandmother sat beside him, her walking stick tapping impatiently. Ranveer, his elder brother, had Aarvi on his lap, while Anjali sat quietly, clearly reluctant to involve herself in the brewing storm. Anushka, however, looked amused, ready to enjoy the show.
Pratap began, “Ranvijay, tumse ek zaruri baat karni thi.”
Ranvijay folded his arms. “Agar yeh zaruri baat shaadi ke baare mein hai, toh main abhi se jawab de deta hoon—nahi.”
His father’s patience snapped. “Case case case! Har waqt tumhare paas ek hi bahaana hota hai. Tumhare bade bhai ne bhi kaam ke saath shaadi manage ki hai. Tumse kam busy nahi the woh.”
Ranveer, sensing the heat, tried to lighten the mood. “Papa, sabka apna time hota hai. Shayad Ranvijay ka abhi nahi aaya.”
But Pratap wasn't having it. “Yeh bas ek excuse hai. Baatein banane mein sabse aage hai, lekin zimmedari lene ki baat aaye toh peechhe hatt jaata hai.
After months of dodging family interventions, Ranvijay finally decided enough was enough. If they wanted him to marry, he’d play by his own rules. He needed someone who didn’t care for societal norms, who wasn’t obsessed with the idea of being a perfect wife or fulfilling everyone’s expectations.
His plan was simple yet cunning: find someone as disinterested in marriage as he is. Someone who wouldn’t cling, wouldn’t demand attention, and definitely wouldn’t come with the baggage of traditional expectations.
Talking to himself one night, he mused, “Ek ladki jo mujhe peace de, drama nahi. Bas ek non-interference clause ke saath shaadi sign karni hai.”
The next morning, over breakfast, he made an announcement. “Main shaadi ke baare mein sochne ke liye ready hoon.”
The room fell silent. His grandmother almost dropped her spoon. His father raised an eyebrow. Anushka’s jaw dropped in mock surprise.
Before anyone could react, he added, “Ek condition hai. Mujhe apni pasand ki ladki dhoondhne do.”
Pratap narrowed his eyes. “Tum mazaak toh nahi kar rahe?”
Ranvijay smirked. “Main apni terms pe hi kuch accept karunga, Papa. Agar aapko ye manzoor hai, toh theek. Varna aapko mujhe shaadi ke liye force karna band karna padega.”
His grandmother clapped her hands together. “Yeh toh ek acchi baat hai! Hum ladki ke baare mein kuch nahi kahenge, bas tum shaadi ke liye haan kardo.”
But in Ranvijay’s mind, this was far from a surrender. His search wasn’t going to be about finding a life partner—it was a strategic move to find someone who shared his disinterest in marriage and all its baggage.
The battle wasn’t over; it had just shifted to new territory.
And so, the battle of wits between Ranvijay and his family continued, each side stubborn in its resolve. Little did Ranvijay know that life had its own plans, and the kind of girl he was looking for might just be out there—strong-willed, uninterested in societal norms, and a match for his sarcasm and wit.
Whereas Sanyukta was busy fighting against the society for her baby Ranvijay was in tussel with his family but their problem was the same....The Marriage.
Stay tuned to see how they become the solution to each others problem and what Destiny has in store for them ....
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