Our Mindset Episode 30
The saree was beautiful, just like the ones worn by the women in their household. It was so expensive that in seven years of marriage, I had never owned such a costly saree. My husband had given me only five sarees—one for our engagement, one for the turmeric ceremony, one for the wedding, one for my sixteenth birthday, and one for my first Sankranti. After that, all my sarees came from my maternal home. I never traveled much, mostly just to my parents’ house, where I’d leave my old sarees and return with new ones from my mother.
What woman doesn’t wish to buy a new saree straight from the store? Sarees and gold—these are a woman’s true indulgences. And if a husband gifts a saree out of love, there’s no greater joy. That’s how love is expressed.
But this saree wasn’t a simple gift—it carried an intent. They wanted to show me that someone else cared for me.
Balu smiled, “I picked the perfect color for you. It’ll look great on you.”
I did like the saree. I folded it back neatly, wrapped it in the newspaper it came in, and handed it back to Balu.
He looked confused. “Why? You don’t like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted, “but why was it given to me? To test my heart? To tempt me? I don’t even know the person who sent it—I’ve never seen them. I don’t know their intentions. So why should I accept it? Yes, I know my husband and I aren’t an ideal pair. He gives me no luxuries. He took me as his wife for a mere wage. You judged my worth based on his actions. But before making assumptions about me, you should have asked me what I wanted.”
Balu listened patiently. “You’re right. I’ll deliver your message. Until then, I’ll keep the saree at my place.” And he left.
If I had taken the saree immediately, Patil would have thought I was a fool. Still, a thought lingered in my mind—I should ask my husband first.
That evening, when he returned, I casually mentioned, “I saw a Kumkum saree at the market today. Will you buy it for me?”
He didn’t even look up. “Tell your mother to get it for you on Raksha Bandhan.”
Just because someone endures something doesn’t mean you should test their limits. A person who tolerates is not a fool—just helpless. My helplessness was my two children.
My husband and my parents thought I was clueless, incapable of making decisions for myself. But ever since I started working, I had grown braver, more confident. I had only known two worlds—my marital home and my childhood home. Until now, I had never seen the real world outside. The struggles my parents put me through, the hardships my husband imposed on me—I remembered them all. And soon, their illusions about me would shatter.
Before I could say anything, Balu had already told my sister-in-law everything. The moment I arrived at her house, she smirked, “What happened? Didn’t like the saree? Or do you need to see his face first before accepting it? We thought you were naive, but you’re smarter than you look.”
She continued, “Patil is tall, strong, and fair-skinned. They discussed it for hours last night in front of Balu’s house. They thought you’d be an easy catch. But you flipped the game on them. He already lost sleep over you once. Who knows what will happen now?”