Match Made
The sun was still behind the hills, casting soft shadows over Gulmohar Gaon. In the Verma household, the day began too early.
FL Mother
*[wiping hands on saree, ringing brass bell]*
Priya! Get up! The wheat needs grinding before the sun gets too high!
Priya Verma/Singh(FL)
*[groaning under blanket]*
Ugh… five more minutes Ma(Mom)…
Priya hadn’t slept well. The same dream—falling through the cracks of her own life—haunted her. Responsibility weighed on her chest like a stone.
Priya Verma/Singh(FL)
Marriage. Children. Endless work. Is that all there is? (Thinks)
The matchmaker arrived like a storm—unannounced, inevitable. Her saffron saree blazed against the muted browns of Gulmohar Gaon, and the village women trailed behind her like shadows. They knew what her presence meant: another girl’s fate, bartered over milky chai and hushed calculations.
Priya's mom wiped her hands on her frayed apron, fingers trembling as she poured jaggery tea into the matchmaker’s cupped palms. The woman sipped slowly, her eyes sharp as a hawk’s, already tallying Priya’s worth—the slope of her shoulders, the calluses on her palms, the silence that clung to her like a second skin.
Match Maker
*[smacking her lips]*
Good tea. Strong. Like your daughter, no?
FL Mother
*[forcing a laugh]*
Priya? Oh, she’s sturdy. Grinds wheat faster than any girl here.
Sturdy. A safe word. It meant *obedient*. It meant *won’t complain*.
Match Maker
*[leaning in]*
The Sarpanch needs a wife who won’t shame him. A quiet one.
Quiet. Another safe word. It meant *won’t resist*.
FL Mother
*[nodding too fast]*
Priya’s quiet. Clever too—
Match Maker
*[raising a hand]*
Cleverness isn’t wanted. Can she bear sons?
The question hung like a sickle over priya’s mom throat. She glanced at Priya, crouched in the corner, grinding spices with mechanical precision. Her daughter’s face was blank, but her knuckles were white around the mortar.
FL Mother
*[whispering]*
Of course.
The matchmaker grinned, gold teeth glinting. She pulled out a ledger, its pages stained with betel juice, and scrawled Priya’s name beside Arjun Singh’s.
Match Maker
Done. The Sarpanch will clear your debts.
No one asked Priya. No one ever did.
Rumors swirled through the village. The matchmaker had arrived, and Priya’s name was on the list.
Random Villager 1
Did you hear? Sarpanch Singh wants Priya Verma!
Random Villager 2
His debts… her future… a fair trade, no?
Debts - her father is having it and you will know it in future why and how?
For Trade - It's not a trade
You'll know it in future
Priya Verma/Singh(FL)
A trade? Is that all I am?(Thinks)
Sarpanch Arjun Singh’s house stood firm in the village center. When Priya’s father came to him, Arjun listened silently.
FL Father
She’s bright, Sarpanchji! Knows all the crops. She’ll be a good wife.
Arjun Singh (ML)
*[grunting]*
I’ll consider it.
But something about Priya’s name stuck with him. When the match maker bought her photo he didn't see it .
Unexpectedly while taking a shirt he observed the table and saw the photo which made him mesmerized.
Arjun Singh (ML)
Her eyes in the photo… like she’s hiding something. (Thinks)
The matchmaker arrived, her loud voice sealing Priya’s fate.
Match Maker
Priya Verma will marry Sarpanch Arjun! A fine match!
Priya Verma/Singh(FL)
*[silent, fists clenched]*
That night, Priya lay awake, her fingers brushing against a hidden book under her pillow.
Priya Verma/Singh(FL)
**(whispering to herself)**
What if there’s more?
Meanwhile, Arjun sat at his table, staring at a half-written letter.
Arjun Singh (ML)
**(muttering)**
If only I could read…
His gaze lingered on the ink-blurred words.
Arjun Singh (ML)
**(Thinks)**
Maybe if she knows to read… she could teach me....
Arjun Singh (ML)
**(Thinks)**
What am I thinking ...
Huff
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