It is Kartik's first night after marriage and he is expected to act as a man. He overpowers his wife, until something brings back memories of the past.
Kartik sat surrounded by his friends. They were drunk and laughed away the night wildly. Kartik as the groom, in his cream colored silk kurta looked handsome. The women sat huddled together in a room, some gossiping about the dowry received and others putting night creams on their sagging faces, still trying to reclaim what was once young; each one still trying to figure what the other used and if it had a better effect before retiring for the day.
Huge mattresses had been brought in from the local handloom shop, to accommodate the relatives. There was a commotion everywhere one stepped. The entire house had turned into a min field, as people had to move precariously to avoid bumping someone sleeping on the rented mattresses that sprawled all over the house, occupying every inch.
It was almost midnight now, after a grand reception at the local community hall. Kartik and his new bride , Naira had just come back home. He was already exhausted, with the long hours of standing and welcoming guests, maintaining a smile that made his cheeks hurt and posing for innumerable photo sessions, which ofcourse no one would remember; may be just the young ones who would post it on facebook with a earth shattering caption about how great they felt and wait for likes.
All he wanted now was to collapse on his bed. But his friends, who had joined him home, would not let go of him. They teased him endlessly and shamelessly pulled his leg, for tonight was the much awaited First Night. All his friends were still bachelors, and they seemed more thrilled than kartik over the prospect of the first night.
Almost as if she had read his mind, kartik's mausi came to his rescue,“Its so late and you boys still look energetic enough to go for another wedding. Stop this banter now! Kartik, tomorrow is the Satnarayan Puja, and you better wake up before the Panditji comes. Come on, get up now. Go to your room.” She kept standing there until kartik finally got up from his seat and followed him to his room. The friends teasingly shouted, “Best of luck” and began to look for places to sleep.
Halfway to his room, Mausi left for her own room and joined the group of giggling and snoring ladies. A few steps away from his room, kartik felt a strange feeling overtake him. Entering his own room, where he had spent almost all his life, felt different today. It actually felt uncomfortable. With his heart pounding nervously, he entered his room.
The bride was sitting on the corner of the bed. She had changed from her crystal embroidered heavy lehenga into a red silk saree. Kartik, closed the door behind him, and kept standing next to the door, without moving a step. He did not know what to do now. What should he say, it all seemed so awkward.
But he had friends to answer the next morning and return victorious smiles to inquisitive eyes. Without thinking much, he switched off the lights. Darkness gave him the confidence which he lacked in the light. Fumbling his way to the bed, he reached for his bride. He held her shoulders and drew her close to himself. The bride felt as dead as a corpse; Naira swayed whichever way kartik took her.
He began to take off her saree while the bride lay still. He kissed her on the forehead, but still, the bride reciprocated only with a still coldness. Kartik was about to enclose her into his arms, when Naira pushed him away. Kartik, was shocked and felt insulted. In a fit of rage, he slapped his wife and authoritatively pulled her near him. The new bride, frightened like a doe, started sobbing silently. Kartik could feel his chest getting wet, with her tears; yet, he continued to explore her.
