Part 12
Chapter 34: The Solitary Solace
The morning of the *Kanda-Pohe* ceremony finally arrived, heavy with the humid scent of monsoon rain. The household was a whirlwind of frantic activity, but a cloud of quiet gloom hung over Rajjo’s room.
Early that morning, Vandana Kaku and Ira had dropped by with a plausible excuse: a distant relative in a neighboring town had fallen suddenly ill, and their entire family had to leave immediately for the day. Ira had stolen a brief, quiet moment with Rajjo before leaving, adjusting the tight silk blouse of her saree and offering a reassuring, secretive smile, but the silver key to the locked device remained safely tucked around Ira's neck, hidden under her dupatta.
Left alone with Kamal Aai and Ria, Rajjo sat before the vanity mirror, her heart sinking deeper with every passing minute.
"Cheer up, Rajasi!" Ria chirped, expertly applying a layer of glowing foundation over Rajjo’s face. "It's just a formality. Aai said she will handle the groom's family. You just have to sit there, look pretty, and let the families do the talking!"
Kamal Aai stepped in, draping a breathtaking crimson and gold Paithani saree over Rajjo’s glued, voluptuous frame. She layered heavy heirloom gold necklaces over her chest, adjusted the pearl *Nath* on her nostril, and pinned fresh, fragrant orange marigolds into her sleek bun.
Rajjo looked at her reflection—a flawlessly styled, traditional Marathi girl. But beneath the heavy silk and gleaming gold, her mind was a mess of anxiety. The groom’s family was approaching, Ira was miles away, and the physical restriction of the chastity device served as a constant, humming reminder of her helpless situation.
Chapter 35: The Secret Strategy
While Rajjo was sitting anxiously in her bedroom, a completely different scene was unfolding just down the road.
Vandana Kaku and her family hadn't gone to any neighboring town. In fact, the entire 'groom' plot had been concocted by Ira’s family and Kamal Aai weeks ago. They had decided that if the two were going to play this elaborate game, the families would orchestrate the ultimate grand finale.
That very morning, Ira’s mother had revealed the entire scheme to Ira, presenting her with a tailored, sharp formal shirt, dark trousers, and a sleek leather belt. Ira had been stunned to realize her family got to know about her secret affair and was fully onboard with the playful charade.
Stepping out of the car near Rajjo’s house, Ira looked remarkably sharp. Dressed in full masculine attire, with her hair styled cleanly back, she moved with an easy, confident swagger. She checked her pocket to make sure her smartphone—and the tiny silver key—were securely in place.
Chapter 36: The Draped Entry
The sounds of heavy footsteps and loud greetings echoed from the living room as the "groom’s family" arrived.
Inside the bedroom, Kamal Aai walked in, holding Rajjo's own saree's heavy, opaque embroidered silk pallu.
"Rajasi, the family is seated," Kamal Aai instructed, her tone suspiciously formal. "According to our traditional village custom for this specific ritual, you must pull the pallu deep over your face—below your eyes—so you only look down at the floor while serving. You must show ultimate modesty."
"Below my eyes, Aai?" Rajjo asked, her voice a soft, nervous whisper.
"Yes, no looking up until we tell you," Kamal Aai insisted, carefully arranging the heavy fabric so that Rajjo’s vision was completely restricted to the small patch of floor directly in front of her feet.
Gathering the heavy pleats of her Paithani saree, her silver anklets jingling nervously, Rajjo picked up the heavy tray laden with steaming cups of tea and hot & fresh pohe. She shuffled slowly out of the bedroom, her eyes fixed strictly on the floor.
She reached the living room, where the low murmur of chatter suddenly died down. All she could see beneath the edge of her pallu were the polished wooden floorboards and a pair of socks peeking out below the formal trousers, resting right near the center cushion.
Trembling, her glass bangles clinking against the tray, Rajjo knelt down submissively to place the snacks on the low table. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
"Now, Rajasi," Kamal Aai’s voice rang out, thick with suppressed laughter. "You may lift your head and reveal your face to the groom."
Slowly, carefully, Rajjo reached up with trembling, henna-stained hands. She folded back the heavy silk saree pallu, lifting her eyes expecting to see a strange village man sitting across from her.
Instead, her gaze met a pair of sharp, familiar eyes, a wicked, triumphant smirk, and a sharp, formal suit.
Rajjo froze, her lips parting in utter, unadulterated shock. Sitting directly in front of her as the 'prospective groom'—surrounded by both their smiling, conspiratorial families—was Ira.
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